Dearest Ferns, 🌞🌿

Life is always happening—loudly, softly, suddenly.
It crashes in like a wave 🌊, slips out like a whisper 💨. And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos and beauty, I’ve learned to choose me. Again and again. To take care of me in healings of life's turns.

Yoga brought me back to myself—not the polished, performative version, but the raw, honest, wide-awake me. The one who feels deeply. The one who grieves and celebrates in the same breath. The one who watches people disappear and somehow still loves—without armor, without condition. 💔✨

I’ve been ghosted. By friends, by family, even by past versions of myself.
But now I see it with new eyes: ghosting is often just a different way of choosing ourselves. Sometimes they leave. Sometimes we do. Sometimes they grow quiet. And sometimes, we’re the ones who vanish for a while.

When someone passes so unexpectedly their existence lingers like a ghost.
Everyone who crosses my path has an impact in my life. Parker was more than a decade of knowing and holding space.

And ✨ Maktub—it was always written. Written in stardust and breath, by the winds of the Universe 💫🍃.

But here’s what I know deep in my bones:
We always circle back.
To each other. To truth.
To ourselves 🌾🌙.

In memories. In dreams. In unexpected signs—a feather 🪶, a song, a flash of light.
Sometimes in body. Sometimes in spirit.
And sometimes—like Parker—they return through the stillness of a final goodbye, echoing in every life they connected with.

This Saturday, class will be online. I’ll be away, celebrating Parker’s life at his funeral. Honoring the path he walked, the friendship he gave, and holding space for him one more time with love and gratitude.

People come and go.
And yet... they never really leave us 🌳.

Now, when I look at the yoke hanging above the studio—the one Parker gifted us years ago—I will see it with new eyes. That yoke, passed down through his family since the 1700s, is no longer just a symbol of effort and unity. It’s a living reminder: that we are all deeply connected, across time and tide, circling back to one another in this wild, beautiful dance of existence.

Parker will forever be part of y Respira and Casita Majía 🌞🌿🌙.
Thank you, Parkerito. Gracias por todo.

In the meantime, I’m still here.
Still choosing me.
Choosing you.
Choosing to show up.
Choosing this sacred work we’ve been called to do 🌻🌀.

And I’m endlessly grateful—for every return, every reappearance, every trace of cells and atoms that continue to circulate around us all ✨🌬️🌱.