Vibrating.

With energy. With happiness and disappointment.  With the desire to do, be and create.  To help and to heal.  Today was a slow starter...a lingering hangover of tiredness and a bit of melancholy.  Finally rolling out of bed brought a delicious cup of coffee.  The kind I'm trying to slow down and listen to.  Dripping slowly in the Chemex.  Promising a refresh and renewal.  

Slow down.  Stop. Breathe. Go back. Fall back. Way back.  Fall into the great unknown and not be afraid.  I feel as though I'm at a crossroads and with a fast approaching wedding, I suppose I am.  But in a spiritual sense as well.  I began my practice of yoga again.  At a place appropriately called Being Yoga.  Being is something I struggle with.  Being.  Not doing.  Not thinking.  Just being.  And yet, for the past two weeks, I've been stretching mental and physical muscles not used since my high school devotion to Rodney Yee yoga VHS tapes.  And you know what?  The (almost daily) panic attacks stopped.   There might be something to being.