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Everything has a Story

I dislike things that are half-assed. Either take me down or go away already. Last week, I was dealing with sinus pressure, slight headaches and occasional sore throat. It was not enough to take me out but held me back from engaging fully. In a word, annoying.

Instead of more vigorous workouts, I opt for meditation and gentle yoga. I stay home more but don't want to sit on the couch and watch Netflix all day. I'll start the day at Waffle House and see what happens. Some of you already know how much I love their hash browns.

I pull in to my favorite Waffle House and walk in. Not one other customer, my own private restaurant. I take a seat at the high bar. The server, ambles over we make small talk as she makes check marks on her yellow order pad with bright pink pen. The line cook listens over her shoulder and grabs the ingredients as I say them. Shortly thereafter, I'm enjoying my hash browns, veggies, decaf and cinnamon raisin toast. I put extra hot sauce on it to knock out whatever this cold thing is.

Right across the parking lot is my favorite secondhand store, Goodwill. Inspiration strikes, I'll work on a few things in my bedroom. Although we've been in the house a little over a year, I have yet to display all my "yogi stuff". A collection of gifts given to me by fellow yogis, or purchases made during yoga travels over the years. I'll transform the random clutter into something meaningful. I settle the bill, take a steaming hot cup of decaf in my hands walk out into an equally steamy day. I head across the parking lot.

What am I looking for? Glass and frames. Clear glass vases with interesting textures to adorn two small decorative windows. Frames to add impact and purpose to items I want to hang on the walls. I wander to the back of the store and find the glass first. A beautiful tall, swirled vase. Another that's very heavy and smooth, with an intricate carving of a single tulip on it. The final one makes me smile. It's covered in small raised vines and has lines to fill it with water, vinegar and oil to make vinaigrette. I scoop up all three and put them in my cart.

Frames are a few aisles over, I look for ones made of wood in natural colors. What sizes? One to frame the Krishna and Radha postcard that I got during my first ashram trip. It's been unframed so long it's warped and dusty. Another to frame Tara, a female buddha from a local Tibetan monastery. A final one for the naked line drawing. It's easy to flip through the frames and find ones that will work. I pick up a couple more just in case.

Back in my bedroom, I unload the Goodwill haul and find all the Command strips and hooks I can. It's time to get things up on the walls. I've received so many souvenirs over the years. They mark loving relationships and experiences. Snapshots in time that I don't want to forget. Looking at them helps me remember as the years fly by. They deserved to be displayed in a way that honors their energy.

Heart shaped pillows and statues. A collection of healing stones and sea glass. Bundles of sage, sweetgrass and palo santo. Artwork from yoga festivals. A Tibetan singing bowl. Handmade keepsakes. Mala beads. Bracelets. Chimes and bells. Prayer flags. Incense. Paintings from yoga students. Crystals and selenite wands. Mementos from people who have left this life.

Each piece has a tale to tell. I love surrounding myself with this energy as I rest, create and share from my room. It's a way to transfer the past into the present moment. A way to bring it along intangibly. Everything has a story. It has vibration, intention, beauty and truth. I can't imagine surrounding myself with anything else. That's how it should be for everyone. Always.


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