Love & Ahimsa Essential Oil Diffuser and Roller Blends
This month, as we focus on ahimsa—non-harming and self-compassion—these blends support love, heart-opening, and emotional ease. Perfect for meditation, gentle yoga, or mindful moments.
Ahimsa in Practice: Adaptive Yoga, Neurological Change, and the Eight Limbs for Every Body
This month, my work is rooted in ahimsa—the yogic principle of non-harming. While often translated simply as “non-violence,” ahimsa is far more nuanced. It asks us to relate to ourselves, our bodies, our nervous systems, and one another with care, patience, and deep respect.
For me, ahimsa is not theoretical. It has been shaped through nearly two decades of teaching adaptive yoga to people living with neurological conditions, and through my own lived experience navigating pain, injury, and profound physical change. This is where yoga becomes real. This is where it becomes adaptable, accessible, and truly transformative.
Neurological conditions—such as Parkinson’s disease, stroke, MS, dementia, and traumatic brain injury—affect far more than movement. They impact balance, coordination, cognition, emotional regulation, confidence, and one’s sense of identity.
Adaptive yoga meets people where they are, not where a pose or practice says they “should” be. It honors the reality of neurological change by:
Prioritizing safety and nervous system regulation
Using choice-based, non-linear movement
Emphasizing felt experience over external form
Supporting dignity, autonomy, and self-trust
This is ahimsa in action. We are not forcing the body to comply—we are listening.
The Eight Limbs of Yoga: A Framework for All Abilities
Yoga is not just physical postures. The Eight Limbs of Yoga, outlined in the Yoga Sutras, offer a comprehensive framework for living well—one that is inherently adaptable to all abilities and all stages of life.
Here is how I weave the Eight Limbs into adaptive yoga and neurological care:
1. Yamas – Ethical Foundations
Ahimsa lives here. In adaptive yoga, this means letting go of comparison, performance, and “pushing through.” We practice kindness toward bodies that may feel unpredictable or unfamiliar.
2. Niyamas – Self-Relationship
Practices such as self-compassion (saucha) and contentment (santosha) help students build a healthier relationship with change, loss, and limitation—without bypassing grief or frustration.
3. Asana – Adaptive Movement
Postures are modified, seated, supported, or imagined. The goal is not shape, but connection, safety, and agency. Sometimes the most powerful asana is simply resting.
4. Pranayama – Breath Awareness
Gentle breath practices support emotional regulation, vagal tone, and a sense of calm—especially important for those experiencing anxiety, tremors, or cognitive overwhelm.
5. Pratyahara – Turning Inward
In environments with constant stimulation—medical settings, assisted living, or busy minds—learning to gently withdraw attention can be profoundly grounding.
6. Dharana – Focus
Short, accessible moments of concentration help rebuild confidence and presence, even when attention feels fragmented.
7. Dhyana – Meditation
Meditation in adaptive yoga may look like guided imagery, sensory awareness, or simply noticing one breath at a time.
8. Samadhi – Integration
For many, this limb shows up as moments of ease, belonging, or acceptance—not perfection, but wholeness within change.
Ahimsa as a Monthly (and Lifelong) Practice
Focusing on ahimsa this month is an invitation to slow down and ask:
Where am I pushing instead of listening?
How can I reduce harm—to my body, my thoughts, my expectations?
What would it feel like to meet myself with curiosity instead of judgment?
In adaptive yoga, ahimsa reminds us that doing less can be doing the work.
Why This Matters
As someone who has taught adaptive yoga in assisted living and neurological settings for many years—and who now lives with my own physical limitations—I believe deeply that yoga must evolve.
Yoga should be:
Inclusive, not exclusive
Trauma-informed, not prescriptive
Rooted in compassion, not achievement
When we return to the heart of yoga—especially the Eight Limbs—we remember that yoga was never meant to be one-size-fits-all.
Ahimsa teaches us that every body, every nervous system, and every season of life belongs.
If you are interested in adaptive yoga, mindful resilience, or applying yogic philosophy to real-life challenges, I share ongoing practices, reflections, and resources here on the blog.
Valentine’s Day doesn’t need to be complicated to feel special. Sometimes the most meaningful moments come from simple pleasures—warm chocolate, juicy strawberries, and the joy of sharing something made with care.
These Chocolate Strawberry Skillet Brownies are rich, fudgy, and just a little romantic. Made in one pan and topped with fresh strawberries, they’re perfect for a cozy night in, a Galentine’s gathering, or a sweet moment of self-love.
Chocolate Strawberry Skillet Brownies
Ingredients
½ cup unsalted butter (or dairy-free butter), melted
¾ cup granulated sugar or coconut sugar
¼ cup brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¾ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
½ cup all-purpose flour (or gluten-free 1:1 flour)
Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Lightly grease a 9-inch cast iron skillet or baking dish.
In a mixing bowl, whisk together melted butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar until smooth.
Add eggs and vanilla extract, mixing until glossy.
Stir in cocoa powder, flour, salt, and baking powder just until combined.
Fold in dark chocolate chips.
Pour batter into the prepared skillet and smooth the top.
Arrange sliced strawberries gently over the batter.
Bake for 25–30 minutes, until edges are set and the center is slightly soft.
Let cool slightly before serving warm.
A Mindful Valentine’s Moment
Before serving, pause for one breath. Notice the warmth, the aroma, the deep chocolate color.
Let this dessert be a reminder that pleasure and presence belong together—and that joy can be a form of self-compassion.
Make It Your Own
Add a swirl of strawberry jam before baking
Use raspberries for a deeper berry flavor
Sprinkle chopped dark chocolate on top while warm
Serve family-style straight from the skillet
This is a dessert meant to be shared—or savored slowly, one bite at a time.
From Embracing Spirit Yoga
At Embracing Spirit Yoga, we believe nourishment includes moments of sweetness, warmth, and connection. May this Valentine’s Day invite you to soften, savor, and enjoy what brings comfort and joy.
Week One of Our February Yoga Theme: Ahimsa — A Month of Compassion
Introduction
Ahimsa, often translated as non-harming, is one of the foundational principles of yoga philosophy. While it’s easy to think of ahimsa as something we practice outwardly—toward others, animals, or the world—it begins much closer to home.
Week One of our February theme invites us to turn inward and explore ahimsa toward ourselves. This is where compassion takes root. This is where true softness and sustainable strength are born.
Practicing ahimsa with ourselves means noticing the subtle (and not-so-subtle) ways we cause harm internally:
Harsh self-talk
Pushing past pain or exhaustion
Ignoring emotional needs
Judging our bodies, choices, or perceived shortcomings
Self-directed violence is often quiet and normalized—but it deeply shapes how we move through the world.
Ahimsa toward ourselves is not indulgence or avoidance. It is honest care. It is listening. It is choosing kindness without force.
On the Mat: Practicing Self-Compassion in Yoga
This week’s yoga practices emphasize:
Slower pacing and intentional transitions
Permission to rest, modify, or pause
Awareness of internal dialogue during movement
Choosing sensation over performance
Rather than asking, “How far can I go?” we gently ask, “What would feel kind right now?”
This approach builds trust with the body and nervous system—something especially important during times of stress, healing, or uncertainty.
Off the Mat: Ahimsa in Daily Life
You may notice this week’s theme showing up beyond your yoga practice. Some gentle reflections to explore:
How do I speak to myself when things feel hard?
Where might I be pushing when listening would serve me better?
What would change if I treated myself the way I treat someone I love?
Small acts of self-kindness—resting without guilt, setting gentle boundaries, offering yourself patience—are powerful expressions of ahimsa.
A Simple Week One Practice
Self-Compassion Pause
Once a day, pause for three slow breaths.
Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly.
Inhale: I am listening.
Exhale: I choose kindness.
Let this be enough.
Essential Oil Support (Optional)
Rose or Bergamot — both oils gently support the heart and emotional body, making them especially aligned with self-compassion.
Rose invites tenderness, self-love, and emotional healing. It reminds us that softness is strength.
Bergamot offers lightness and encouragement, helping ease self-judgment and lift heavy inner dialogue.
Diffuse during practice or apply (diluted) over the heart space or wrists as a gentle reminder to meet yourself with kindness.
Closing Reflection
Ahimsa does not ask us to be perfect. It asks us to be present.
As we begin this month together, may we remember that compassion practiced inwardly ripples outward—softening our edges, deepening our resilience, and shaping how we meet the world.
February invites us to slow down, soften our edges, and return to one of yoga’s most foundational teachings: ahimsa, the practice of non-harming. Often translated as compassion or non-violence, ahimsa is not about perfection or passivity. It is about care. It is about choosing responses that reduce harm and increase kindness—toward ourselves, others, and the world we share.
This month at Embracing Spirit Yoga, we explore ahimsa as a living practice—one that unfolds gently, week by week, through awareness, movement, breath, and reflection.
Rather than striving to do more, February asks us to listen more deeply. To notice where we push, judge, or override our needs—and to choose something softer instead.
Non-harming begins within. The way we speak to ourselves, interpret our experiences, and meet discomfort sets the tone for everything that follows.
This week’s practices focus on cultivating self-compassion and awareness. We slow down enough to hear our inner dialogue and gently shift the tone from criticism to curiosity. Through mindful movement and breath, we practice meeting ourselves exactly as we are—without fixing, forcing, or comparing.
Reflection: How do I speak to myself when things feel difficult?
Affirmation:May I meet myself with kindness and care.
Week Two: Ahimsa with Our Body
Our bodies carry wisdom, yet many of us have learned to override signals of fatigue, pain, or discomfort in the name of productivity or progress.
This week invites a different relationship—one rooted in listening rather than pushing. Practices emphasize honoring sensation, respecting limits, and moving with awareness instead of force. Ahimsa shows up when we trust the body’s messages and respond with patience rather than judgment.
Reflection: What does my body need from me right now?
Affirmation:I honor my body with gentleness and respect.
Week Three: Ahimsa in Our Relationships
Compassion in relationship does not perhaps surprisingly—mean saying yes to everything or avoiding conflict. True non-harming includes honesty, clarity, and boundaries.
This week we explore how ahimsa lives in connection—with presence, listening, and respectful communication. Practices support staying open-hearted while grounded, especially in moments of emotional charge or disagreement. We practice kindness that includes ourselves.
Reflection: Where might kindness and boundaries coexist in my relationships?
Affirmation:I can be compassionate and clear at the same time.
Week Four: Ahimsa in Our World
In the final week, we widen the lens. Ahimsa extends beyond the mat and into daily choices—how we consume, speak, act, and participate in the collective.
This is not about carrying the weight of the world, but about recognizing the power of small, intentional actions. Steadiness, presence, and care become forms of compassion in motion.
Reflection: What small choice today reflects non-harming?
Affirmation:May my actions reflect care for the world I am part of.
Practicing Ahimsa This Month
You may choose to support this theme with simple rituals—lighting a candle before practice, pausing for a conscious breath before responding, or diffusing a grounding essential oil like cedarwood to remind yourself of connection and community.
Above all, let this month be an invitation rather than an obligation. Ahimsa is practiced one moment at a time.
May February be a time of soft strength, steady compassion, and living with care.
In a world that constantly pulls our attention outward, presence has become both a practice and a refuge. Presence invites us back into our bodies, our breath, and this moment—exactly as it is. Aromatherapy can be a gentle yet powerful ally in this practice.
This essential oil blend for presence was intentionally crafted to support grounding, calm the nervous system, and encourage mindful awareness throughout the day.
Why Use Essential Oils for Presence?
Scent is processed directly through the limbic system—the part of the brain connected to emotion, memory, and regulation. When used with intention, essential oils can:
For those living with chronic pain, recovering from surgery, navigating stress, or practicing mindfulness and yoga, grounding essential oils can serve as an accessible daily ritual.
The Essential Oil Blend for Presence
This blend balances earthy, floral, and citrus notes to create a sense of calm alertness—rooted yet open.
Ingredients & Benefits
Frankincense Often called the “oil of awareness,” frankincense supports deep breathing, emotional regulation, and spiritual connection.
Lavender Known for its calming properties, lavender helps quiet the mind and soften physical tension without dulling awareness.
Bergamot A bright citrus oil that uplifts mood and eases anxious thought patterns, bergamot encourages gentle optimism and clarity.
Cedarwood Warm and grounding, cedarwood promotes a sense of safety, stability, and embodiment.
Presence Essential Oil Blend Recipe
Roller Blend (10 ml):
3 drops Frankincense
3 drops Lavender
2 drops Bergamot
2 drops Cedarwood
Fill with a carrier oil (jojoba or fractionated coconut oil)
Diffuser Option:
2 drops Frankincense
2 drops Lavender
1 drop Bergamot
1 drop Cedarwood
How to Use This Blend for Mindfulness
Apply to wrists, heart center, or back of the neck before meditation or yoga
Use during breathwork or body awareness practices
Diffuse while journaling, resting, or during recovery time
Pair with a daily affirmation or mindful pause
Mindful Affirmation: “I am here. I am grounded. This moment is enough.”
A Gentle Daily Ritual for Presence
Apply or diffuse the blend
Close your eyes and inhale slowly through the nose
Exhale fully through the mouth
Name three sensations you can feel right now
Return to your day with softer awareness
This ritual takes less than two minutes and can be repeated whenever you feel scattered or overwhelmed.
Safety Notes
Always dilute essential oils before topical use
Avoid bergamot before sun exposure unless using a bergaptene-free (FCF) version
Consult a qualified professional if pregnant or managing medical conditions
Presence Is a Practice
Presence isn’t about perfection or constant calm. It’s about returning—again and again—to yourself. This essential oil blend is not a solution, but an invitation. A sensory reminder that you are allowed to slow down, breathe, and be here now.
If you enjoy practices that support mindful living, gentle yoga, and healing rituals, explore more resources at Embracing Spirit Yoga.
The Power of Presence: A Guide to Sensory Orienting
In moments of high stress or mental clutter, our thoughts often drift into the future or dwell on the past. This disconnect from the “here and now” can lead to increased anxiety and a feeling of being overwhelmed. Mindfulness offers a solution through a practice known as orienting.
Orienting is the process of scanning your environment and using your physical senses to anchor yourself in the present moment. It is a biological signal to your nervous system that you are safe in your current space.
Why Orienting to the Five Senses Works
The human brain is wired to prioritize sensory input. When you intentionally focus on what you see, hear, or feel, you shift activity from the amygdala (the brain’s emotional center) to the prefrontal cortex (the rational center). This shift helps regulate the nervous system and lowers the heart rate.
One of the most effective ways to practice sensory orienting is the 5-4-3-2-1 method. This structured approach ensures you engage every major sensory system to achieve a state of calm.
Observe Five Things You Can See
Begin by looking around your immediate environment. Look for small details you might usually overlook. Notice the way light hits a surface, the texture of a wall, or the specific shade of a nearby object. Labeling these items internally helps solidify your presence in the room.
Acknowledge Four Things You Can Touch
Physical contact is a powerful grounding tool. Notice the sensation of your feet on the floor or the fabric of your clothing against your skin. You might pick up a nearby object to feel its weight, temperature, or roughness. Focus entirely on the tactile feedback your body is receiving.
Identify Three Things You Can Hear
Shift your attention to your auditory environment. Instead of judging the sounds as “noise,” simply identify them. You might hear the distant hum of traffic, the sound of your own breathing, or the ticking of a clock. Listen for sounds both far away and close to you.
Note Two Things You Can Smell
Smell is more directly linked to the brain’s emotional center than any other sense. Take a deep breath and notice any scents in the air. This could be the smell of coffee, fresh rain, or even the neutral scent of the room. If no distinct smells are present, recall a favorite scent and imagine it vividly.
Recognize One Thing You Can Taste
Finally, bring your awareness to your mouth. You might notice the lingering taste of a recent meal or simply the sensation of your tongue against the roof of your mouth. If you have a drink or a small piece of food available, take a mindful sip or bite, focusing entirely on the flavor profile.
Integrating Mindfulness into Daily Life
Orienting does not require a meditation cushion or a silent room. You can practice these steps while walking to your car, sitting in a meeting, or washing dishes. The goal is consistency rather than perfection. By regularly “checking in” with your five senses, you build a resilient nervous system that can more easily navigate the stresses of daily life.
Long ago, while volunteering in hospice—quietly rubbing people’s feet near the end of their lives—I met one of my greatest teachers.
She was almost breathtaking in her vibrancy. An angel in human form, luminous even as her body was preparing to let go. In our brief time together, she offered me a message that has stayed with me for years. One I still return to. One I am still learning.
My Teacher
When I noticed that we shared the same birthday, her eyes flew open with delight. Without missing a beat, she began listing the qualities of a Capricorn: strength, independence, tenacity, hard-working, task-completing, don’t-take-anything-from-anyone attitude—basic bad-ass energy.
We laughed instantly, recognizing ourselves in each other. Our shared stubbornness. Our headstrong resolve.
As I rubbed her feet, she mostly kept her eyes closed, her face soft and peaceful. The room felt calm, sacred. When I finished and began to stand to leave, she suddenly reached out and grabbed my arm.
With unmistakable Capricorn fierceness, she locked eyes with me and said:
“Do not let your strength get in the way.”
The silence that followed was vast. The words hung in the air, echoing long after they were spoken.
Moments later, her beloved partner walked past the bed. My patient gestured toward her and explained, “She’s a Cancer.” Then she turned back to me and said,
“We are Earth dwellers. Sometimes we have to carry the water of others.” (She nodded gently toward her love.) “And sometimes, we must allow the water to wash over us.”
Her eyes closed again. A soft smile appeared on her face.
A few moments later, she opened her eyes once more and asked me a question that caught me completely off guard:
“What do you want your kids to know before you die?”
Without hesitation, I told her that I wanted them to know—deep in their bones—that they are loved unconditionally and accepted for exactly who they are.
She smiled and said, “They already know that.”
The room grew quiet again. Still. Tender. As we said goodbye, tears streamed down both of our faces. In less than an hour, I had received more wisdom than I could have ever hoped for. Holding her hand, I thanked her—filled with gratitude.
Once more, she repeated:
“Do not let your strength get in the way.”
The Part I Didn’t Expect
The most startling part of this experience?
That very morning, I had tattooed the word “strength” on my ribs—after asking my boys to each offer one word they associated with me.
Strength.
Perhaps what I have called strength has also been a wall. A protective barrier. A survival strategy born from necessity and resilience.
And maybe—just maybe—while that strength has served me well, it has also gotten in my way.
Because strength, when held too tightly, can block tenderness. Independence can resist receiving. Resilience can forget how to rest. And self-sufficiency can quietly keep love at arm’s length.
As Rumi reminds us:
“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
I still carry her words with me. Still practicing. Still softening. Still learning how to let the water wash over me.
Turning 55 feels less like reaching a milestone and more like arriving home.
Home to myself.
With each year, life has gently—and sometimes not so gently—polished the rough edges, softened my grip on what doesn’t matter, and strengthened my trust in what does. Wisdom, I’ve learned, isn’t about having answers. It’s about learning how to listen: to the body, the heart, the breath, and the quiet voice within.
Winter asks us to slow down, warm up, and nourish ourselves from the inside out. When the body is healing — whether from surgery, stress, or simply the weight of the season — food becomes more than fuel. It becomes medicine, ritual, and care.
This hearty winter stew is one of my favorite ways to support healing. It’s rich in protein, minerals, collagen, and grounding flavors — designed to warm the body, stabilize energy, and offer deep nourishment with every bite.
Paired with homemade sourdough, this meal feels both humble and sacred.
Grass-fed beef provides high-quality protein, iron, and zinc — all essential for tissue repair.
Bone broth is rich in collagen, amino acids, and minerals that support joints, digestion, and immune health.
Root vegetables ground the nervous system and provide slow-burning energy.
Garlic, herbs, and warming spices support circulation and immunity.
Healing Winter Beef Stew
Ingredients
1½–2 lbs grass-fed beef stew meat or chuck, cut into cubes
2 tbsp olive oil or avocado oil
1 large onion, diced
3–4 cloves garlic, minced
3 carrots, sliced
2 parsnips or turnips, chopped
2 celery stalks, sliced
1–2 cups chopped mushrooms (optional, but deeply grounding)
4 cups high-quality bone broth (beef or mixed)
1 cup water or additional broth
2 tbsp tomato paste
1–2 tsp sea salt (to taste)
1 tsp black pepper
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp dried rosemary or a fresh sprig
1 bay leaf
Optional: a splash of apple cider vinegar (to help extract minerals)
Instructions
Heat oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat.
Brown the beef in batches, allowing it to develop a rich crust. Remove and set aside.
In the same pot, sauté onion until soft and translucent. Add garlic and cook briefly until fragrant.
Stir in tomato paste and cook for 1–2 minutes to deepen flavor.
Return beef to the pot. Add vegetables, herbs, bay leaf, salt, and pepper.
Pour in bone broth and water, ensuring everything is just covered.
Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer for 2–3 hours, stirring occasionally, until beef is tender and flavors are well developed.
Taste and adjust seasoning. Add apple cider vinegar if using.
Serve warm, paired with thick slices of homemade sourdough — perfect for soaking up the broth.
A Closing Thought
Making stew is an act of patience. You cannot rush it. Healing is much the same.
As this stew simmers, I often let it remind me: nourishment takes time, presence matters, and warmth — whether from food, breath, or kindness toward ourselves — is essential.
May this meal support you through the winter season, offering comfort, strength, and a gentle reminder that healing unfolds best when we slow down and stay present.
There are moments in life when the body insists on being heard. Not with whispers, but with unmistakable clarity. This year begins with one of those moments for me.
I am facing two major surgeries.
One surgery to correct the underlying cause of blood clots in my arm — a condition that has required vigilance, patience, and deep trust in a body that has felt unpredictable at times. The second surgery is an attempt — a seventh attempt — to heal my left hip. Writing those words still feels surreal. Seven surgeries. Years of pain, recovery, setbacks, hope, and courage that had to be rebuilt again and again.
For a long time, my relationship with my body has been complicated. I have taught embodiment, presence, and gentle awareness for decades — and yet living inside a body that hurts can quietly erode trust. When pain becomes chronic, it’s easy to disconnect. To leave the body. To manage it instead of inhabit it.
This year, I am choosing something different.
My word for the year is presence — not as a concept, but as a practice rooted in flesh and breath. Presence in my body means allowing healing the space to unfold, without rushing, forcing, or abandoning myself when things feel slow or uncertain.
Presence means listening.
It means noticing subtle cues instead of overriding them. Honoring rest as an act of wisdom rather than weakness. Letting my nervous system soften instead of staying braced for the next setback.
These surgeries are not just medical events; they are invitations. Invitations to slow down, to receive care, to surrender the illusion of control, and to create the best possible conditions for healing — once and for all.
I am learning that healing does not respond well to pressure. It responds to safety.
Safety in the body. Safety in the breath. Safety in knowing I am not at war with myself.
There is grief here, too — grief for what my body has endured, for time lost, for versions of myself that moved freely without thinking. But alongside the grief is something else: a quiet, grounded hope. Not the flashy kind, but the kind that settles into the bones and says, I am still here.
This year, I am not asking my body to prove anything.
I am offering it presence.
And I trust that presence — steady, compassionate, and embodied — is what gives healing its greatest chance to take shape.
An Intentional, Soulful Action Plan for Mindful Living
For the past 28 years, I have chosen a single word to guide my year. This word becomes a thread—quiet yet strong—woven into the tapestry of my life. It’s not a resolution or a goal to accomplish, but an intention to return to again and again.
Presence feels both simple and profound. It asks nothing dramatic of me—only that I show up fully for the life I am already living.
Why I Chose Presence for 2026
We live in a world that constantly pulls us away from the moment we’re in. Even meaningful things—healing, relationships, work, growth—can become rushed or lived on autopilot.
Choosing presence is my commitment to:
Be where my body is
Listen before reacting
Noticing instead of rushing
Live my life instead of racing through it
Presence is not perfection. It is awareness. And awareness changes everything.
What Presence Means to Me
Presence means meeting my life as it is, not as I think it should be.
It is:
Breathing before responding
Listening without planning the next sentence
Caring for my body with attention, not impatience
Allowing my habits to be conscious rather than compulsive
Presence is how I want to live—in my health, my relationships, my work, and my daily habits.
A Soulful Action Plan for Living with Presence in 2026
Rather than setting rigid goals, I’ve created gentle anchors—ways to return to presence throughout the year.
Presence in My Health
My body has taught me many lessons over the years, and in 2026 I want to honor it with deeper listening.
My practices:
Daily check-ins: What does my body need right now?
Moving mindfully instead of pushing through
Resting without guilt
Choosing nourishment that supports healing and energy
Presence in health means responding instead of forcing.
Presence in My Relationships
Presence in relationships means truly being with the people I love.
My practices:
Putting the phone down during conversations
Listening to understand
Allowing silence without rushing to fill it
Speaking honestly and kindly
Being present is one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person.
Presence in My Work
My work is meaningful, and I want to meet it with intention rather than urgency.
My practices:
Beginning workdays with a grounding breath
Focusing on one task at a time
Creating instead of constantly consuming
Honoring energy levels instead of pushing productivity
Presence in work allows creativity and clarity to lead.
Presence in My Habits
Habits shape our days, and our days shape our lives.
My practices:
Morning rituals that begin in stillness
Pausing before automatic behaviors
Noticing patterns without judgment
Choosing small, sustainable actions
Presence helps habits become supportive rather than controlling.
How I Will Return to My Word Throughout the Year
A word of the year only works if we remember it.
Ways I will stay connected to presence:
Writing the word in my journal regularly
Asking, “What would presence look like right now?”
Letting it guide decisions both big and small
Allowing it to evolve as the year unfolds
This word is not a rule—it is an invitation.
An Invitation to Choose Your Own Word
Choosing a word for the year is a powerful mindfulness practice. It creates a compass rather than a checklist.
If you feel called, ask yourself:
What quality do I want to live with more deeply?
What do I need to return to this year?
What would support my becoming?
Then listen. The word often arrives quietly.
A Closing Reflection
Presence reminds me that my life is not waiting somewhere in the future. It is happening now— in this breath, this body, this moment.
