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The Gift of Relaxation

When I teach, especially at the condo, I witness time and time again students bursting through the door as if they were being hunted by something.  I suppose they are.  I suppose we all are at some point or another.  Irritating bosses.  TIME.  A terrifying diagnosis.  Relationship breakdown.  The climate crisis.  An inability to sleep.  The list is endless.  We can hold it gently in the arms of the umbrella term “STRESS”.

We need to rest but we don’t know how.  We need the mind to grow calm so we can make crucial decisions, but it keeps rambling on and on, scaring the crap out of us.  We can’t do it alone.  We need help but we can’t seem to find the help we need.

Over the years I have seen how guided meditation/visualization presses PAUSE on the stress button and gifts us with the time to rest and regenerate without effort.  Here is my gift to you, loved ones, a meditation that I hope helps you crack open a little bit of space (or a lot) and helps you find a little bit of peace (or a lot).

This is something I absolutely love to do.  I love to help people rest.  I love to help them relax.  I love taking them on a journey deep inside where they come across solutions and answers and insight.  If there’s something you’re working through and you think a personalized meditation will help, reach out.  I’d be thrilled to discuss it further.  And if you use this mediation and find it to be helpful, please do share.  Gifts are made more precious when they’re shared.

Click here to receive your downloadable file.

Rest easy.

Much love to you,

Tabitha

 

There is No Shutting Down

Hi,

Apparently I can’t write that I’m deconstructing my website without some reaction.  “It was depressing when I saw you took down your site.”  “That makes me sad.”  This was never my intention.  What you’re witnessing is a human twisting in the wind, attempting to avoid vulnerability and honesty.  To know my need to avoid is hurting someone, though, is unacceptable.  So if you’d like to have a seat, maybe grab a drink, I’ll tell you a story, all the while twisting in blessed (and hopefully healing) discomfort.  Heck, I can’t encourage you to be open, raw and vulnerable if I’m not willing to do the same, right?

Here we go.


Once upon a time I started this blog with the best of intentions.  I had just graduated from my Yoga teacher training, although I never had any desire to physically teach.  Being one who is painfully shy, I just couldn’t see myself standing in front of groups of strangers and asking them to do with their bodies and breath as I suggest.  (Insert Universal ha-ha here as this is what I now do full time.  Bless you.)  But I wanted to share some of the things that I found remarkable from so many healing paths, things that had helped me change my life, in the hopes that the sharing could be of help to others who were searching.  So I started this blog.  I also wanted this to be a place of refuge, a place where people could feel safe to come and explore, to feel, to connect.  I wanted you to know that there was always a place for you.

The years passed and Twisted Positions began to shift from an oasis to a place where I could direct people to find out about my professional offerings.  I was never fully comfortable with that but, you know, “That’s what you do when you’re in business.  You have to have a website!”  Most recently I started to think, “It’s time to burn this shit down.”  It just wasn’t sitting well with me.

Mistake! (Or not.)

Back story:  I was 19 years old and a student at McMaster University.  I was taking a course on Goddesses.  Oh my word, my tiny Catholic world was BLOWN OPEN!  So many beautiful representations of the Divine Feminine, so different from Mother Mary.  When our professor came to the Goddess Kali I literally cried.  I had to stifle sobs in the middle of class.  Here was a form of the Divine that I could not only relate to, I fell instantly in love and have followed Her ever since.  Thing is, when you really love Her, saying things like, “It’s time to burn this shit down,” well….They happen.

Back TO the story:  In July when I was right smack in the middle of a blissful day, having sat in Yoga therapy training with my teacher, I received an email.  Said email sent my stomach through the floor.  My mouth instantly became sandpaper.  My heart started racing.  I broke out into a sweat.  I was in a full blown panic.  The email indicated that I was in violation of copyright laws due to a photo I posted last October, and that I was required to pay a certain amount or get taken to court.  At first glance this seemed like a scam but a little internet digging revealed this was all too real.

When I was a child, if I witnessed cruelty or violence, I would lose my mind.  I was inconsolable.  My tiny heart would break and I would cry hysterically all day long.  I just couldn’t stop.  I could never understand the level of meanness out in the world.  At the age of 48, I still feel the same way.

Yoga teaches about not taking what is not yours, and standing accountable for your actions.  Did I make a mistake?  Yes.  Was it intentional?  No.  Was I willing to make restitution?  Yes.  Was what was being asked of me fair? No.  Was the language being used against me aggressive and terrifying?  Yes.  And it utterly broke my heart.  Here was this sanctuary I had created and I couldn’t stand the look of it anymore.  It felt like poison.  I felt like the space had been utterly defiled and violated so I took it down.

And then you stepped in.

YOU are the reason why I created this space in the first place.  YOU are the reason why I do this.

I need your help.

Can you help me rebuild this place?  Can you help me see this space with fresh eyes and an open heart?  Can you help me paint it with beauty?  Can you share what makes your heart soar?  Do you have any zany stories that can help us laugh?  What about stories of connection, community and kindness?  Because ultimately, when this place sprouts new life, that’s what I want this to be about – coming together, helping each other, CONNECTING  (I’m currently obsessed with that word.)  Can you do that?  Can you help me lift this place up?  You can send it to me privately if you wish.  That’s why I’ve left the “contact” tab up.  I can’t imagine leaving things so we can’t find each other.


I’ll leave this here, as it is, come what may.  As I work to navigate these confusing roads that face me, know that I’m sending you lots of love, even if I’m not writing about it.

Love,

Tabitha

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