presence | Heidi Esther, Joyologist

Ready to float downstream in the Rolling Meadows?

ZRRRRRAAAAACCCH. Again, the noise. ZEEEEERRRACH. Again, louder. The noise sounds like it could be harmful.

Click here to listen to this story on buzzsprout

I’m laying on a patchwork quilt beside a happy little stream where a family of ducks paddles by. Around me are the rolling meadows. Here, the soft grasses are tall, with sweet, little flowers. The early summer sun is gentle and low, yawning and stretching her arms, blanketing a part of the sky in a mellow orange. Which caresses and intertwines fingers with the light blue of the day, like lovers parting.

This place sounds too good to be true… do you think so, too? Read on!

Damned, I mean, Thank You + Free Gift!

A gratitude story-poem. PLUS! A resilience-building gift for YOU. For all seasons!

I woke up, 
  mornings. 
My sky, 
  blinding aura. 
My head as 
  icepicks hammering. 
Sweat,
frozen feet
as a limp doll
on the bathroom floor, 
penance for 
  obeying the
  God of 
   Endless
    Doing.
Insides,
 blindly following.
What have I done? 
I've given myself
 a chance
 at perfect. 
For that 
 painful respite, 
 I am grateful.

Is this like when people make lemonade from lemons? Yes, and lemonade from sugar, too. BOOM! Read on!

You’re never alone, especially if you’re a corpse.

Quietly pumping iron can happen to you, too.

It was quiet as a library. The room was spacious with a low ceiling. It was all wood- smelling. More like a forest than a yoga studio – except for one window wall. It ushered in the only light. The light of dusk on a heavy, cloudy day that was never awake enough to wash the sleep out of its eyes.

I live so many of those days with my toddlers, in velour tracksuits with an unbrushed ponytail. If I hadn’t had 2 cups of coffee after dinner, it would also be lights-out for me.

Did Heidi fall asleep or break out the dumbbells in yoga class? continue reading!