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Simplify. 2020.

It's crazy to imagine that I haven't written a thing on here since I created this site this summer. I created it just to expunge, express, and exclaim. Exclaim what? Emotions. To emote. Emotions, they say, are energy in motion. They are not meant to be stifled, suppressed, or stuffed down. They can't be really. I mean, you can try. They have a way of rising up though. This was my forum to release the emotions stirred by the journey with my father, which usurped a chunk of my 2019, and from which I am only recently beginning to land.

And so... here we are. Months later.

Times have changed. My father passed of ALS on September 12, 2019. We celebrated his life on September 20th. I sang a song at his service; something I've never done before; something I did in homage to he and my mother. In my mind, it was a way to put a vibration to honor them out into the Universe, a way to overcome self limiting beliefs and fears that had held me back while they were alive, and maybe even subconsciously, a way to take back my power from the disease that claimed their lives by an outward expression of pure courage.

The song I sang was a song we danced our last dance to in the hospital one night in August; me, singing to him while leading his left arm through a series of movements given to me by his therapist, trying to pass the time until the nurse came with pain meds; him, trapped in a denervating body, wracked with pain, barely able to breathe or whisper... And I noticed, he was leading the movements, as if we were dancing. I gasped. I choked back the tears. We danced our last dance that night to The Avett Brothers. The night he died a few weeks later I knew I had to sing the song at his funeral. And so I did. With the help of my son's father from Austin, an incredible musician, and my beloved Jess, a choir master and one of Will's friend's.

Bonus: When I miss my parents, we sing. I say we because Daisy never hesitates to join in.

We just spent our first Christmas without them, either of my parents in the flesh. My husband and his family planned a getaway to Belize for us. It was nice. Belize is beautiful. And yet, my heart still hurt. Still I know, it's all ok. It's all as it should be. My job is trust now, to lean into this circumstance, to continue to lead my life with integrity and passion and joy — and a dash of humor.

For the first time in 12 years, since I left corporate America, I did not really look forward to returning home from vacation. Normally, I can't wait to get back to my copper haven and community of yogis. This time I knew a big change awaited, one that hurts a bit. And I dreaded it on December 26th. Yet, here we are. Time marches on.

Due to what I've learned in the last year, the importance of family, the value of ease, the importance of being true about what's possible and what needs to be surrendered, I've decided to close the Clearfork location of The Sanctuary Yoga Room. I can't justify keeping it open any more. The area of the location is zoned as medical, which means I can't have a big, audacious sign out front so people know where we are. As anyone who's ever run a retail business can attest, this is not ideal.

When I opened the space in late 2014, this wasn't insurmountable. Social media was simpler then, the relative noise online wasn't impossible to transcend, and there wasn't that much saturation of yoga in the market. Now, 5 years later with my lease up, the climate of fitness in DFW is quite different. There is a new corporate studio going in by Whole Foods. They have balance sheets behind them, a big sign out front and layers of resources not begotten to a small mom-and-pop shop like ours. There is a new space on Camp Bowie as well. There is a new gym going in in The Shops at Clearfork, and on and on it goes. ClassPass has entered the market. They take half the revenue from the sales and that stings.

Allow me to be clear, it's not that we couldn't do this. We likely could — IF I wanted to sacrifice my precious time with my family, IF I wanted to re-purpose my creative energy into corporate marketing techniques like endless offers and transactional emails as was my former life in corporate America, IF I wanted to stop writing and creating and be entirely beholden to struggle... No, thank you.

Y'all. After a year of getting really clear on what truly matters in life — breath, movement, health, loved ones, creativity, kindness, joy, love — I'm just not interested in that corporate game. My professional priorities lie in teaching, studying, practicing and offering the art and science of yoga — not in begging students to come to the mat, creating price gouging offers, spending all my time on social media contributing to pointless noise and feeling unfulfilled slash void of soul. My personal priorities of love, laughter and learning are also of great importance to me. And as such, I want to simplify.

In a paradoxical way, I know true growth will come by becoming smaller, more concentrated, more focused and streamlined. I am grateful the opportunity has presented itself for me to do so, however painful that may be in the short term.

Yes, I will miss the copper roof when the rain falls, the hummingbirds in the courtyard and the rainbow-esque nature of the copper as it patinas. My heart aches at the idea of not driving into this space on the regular to share my soul. Somehow I also know, it's as it should be.

To answer a few questions:

No, Hulen will not be a solely hot location. We will take our best offerings and create something new. You likely know by now that I am not afraid of reinvention.

Yes, the schedule will be smaller, more concentrated, more poignant. Stay tuned for details.

Yes, we will still have teacher trainings. 200 hour and 300 hour alike.

No, not all of the same teachers will be on the schedule. They will be on the sub list. And some, as often happens, are moving on. New jobs, new towns, new endeavors have presented themselves for some of our beloved folks. This was another sign for me that it was time to streamline.

We will still offer our very best creations from a place of healing, warmth and joy.

We will still offer Fort Worth's only true Sanctuary. At The Sanctuary Yoga Room.

Feb 15, 2020. At Hulen only.

Until then, the full schedule for both locations remains in tact.

So please indulge.

And so it is.


And always — truly my sanctuary.


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