Here and Now

 I haven’t thought about this blog in a long time, which is only obvious when I see that my last post was 4 years ago. There is a student at the yoga studio where I teach that moved abroad this summer, and she started a blog to write and share her experiences. She sent me the link to her Blogger this morning, and I was surprised to see that mine hadn’t been shut down. The internet really is forever! There are things in my life that have remained a constant like my husband’s steadfast care and support. I still teach yoga full time between teaching in behavioral health and a local studio. Leading my own teacher’s trainings and workshops also keeps me in a continual loop of learning, which stokes my passion for mindfulness and movement. I still write poetry and journal. I suppose I will always express myself through writing, although the need to be public has lessened.  I had a scary health incident two years ago when I was diagnosed with a condition called Reversible Cerebral Va...

I am noticing that I’ve been heading in the direction of validating myself more often which has increased my confidence. This seems somewhat strange, because my belief was that the more outside validation I collected, the more confident I would become. What a colossal mind fuck!   

  I don’t write here much anymore, but I’m grateful for this space to be myself.  Looking back at this blog is like observing the process of growing up. I think I read somewhere that our emotional growth is stunted at the age that the trauma or traumas occurred, and I feel like when I began this blog in my early 40’s I was emotionally in the stage of adolescence. I was self absorbed, angry, confused, and scared most of the time.  I began therapy in a state of complete denial. I was resistant to help or change, and yet there was this deeply buried sense of self love that I longed to find again. I believe we all begin our lives knowing our worth, but it is fragile and can easily be dismantled. Therapy was my first lifeline, along with people who stuck with me even when I was a royal pain in the ass! Sometimes growing up also means reconnecting to the child inside who forgot how to play and be light. Life is so fucking hard, but now I’m not the one making it difficult. I hav...

I’m weary of being on display for others to assess inside these walls of my home as well as when I am brave enough to cast shadows along the sidewalks to be vulnerable within a community  in which at times I feel like an unwanted outsider my heart often beating wildly outside of my chest as if wanting to escape the cage of my ribs and yet there is a steely determination  to bring YOU even for a brief moment  into my world a desire to speak my truth  even if it causes myself  and everyone around me discomfort My shadows are your shadows if only you could have enough courage to see  the mirror of my suffering to meet my unwavering gaze  Dare yourself not to look away! That.is.what.it.means. To grow together in love Angela Minard 2021©

  I’m resting in the warmth of a late April morning that feels more like summer. Although I’m trying to be still, my mind dances with a partner I haven’t twirled with in such a long time. My eyes watch a small black spider moving robotically against the basement window, mesmerized by its sky blue markings that flash with the movement of sunlight being released from drifting clouds. I feel each jerking motion twitching though my own limbs as if we were one being; connected by earth and firmament. The wind is a roaring voice enveloping each thought spinning it around in my mind,  and as my eyelids grow heavy the thoughts change colors azure to emerald fading into the brilliance of iridescent pearls... Angela Minard 2021©

  Slipping from the edge of a dream into languid consciousness the heavy hands of apprehension press insistently  weight bearing fear from sternum to pelvis  cemented limbs pulsing with a remembrance of familiar terror plunging into a waking abyss light body separating into the ethers  a hovering awareness  transmuted peace iridescent in its brilliance... Angela Minard 2021©  Photography by Josephine Cardin “Know then that the body is merely a garment. Go seek the wearer, not the cloak.”~ Rumi

I still have that picture of you sitting on the school bus  I remember and know your face as well as I know my own That far away look in your mossy green eyes Only we know where we are and where we have been The straight line of your mouth chin close to quivering and the freckles that dance along the bridge of your delicately shaped nose We both know only too well how to distance ourselves from pain how to find another self to slip into like trying on a fancy new dress... still an old soul I can still hear your voice and your cool hand in mine When you run from the core of who you truly are please don’t run too far... Angela Minard 2021©  

  Dreaming in watercolor stained glass images crystal clear mirage  the aspects of human nature bleed my heart  seeping into the fluidity of my soul blurring the lines of what it is to be authentic  are you a lie posing as a teacher? ask yourself, not your ego are you compassion and grace? are you the mirror of truth or falsifying your name? Can you see beyond the shining colors to the depths of human suffering? Can you offer a warm hand  or a cold heart? What will you choose? Angela Minard 2021© Watercolor Lotus Flower by Libby May

  Truth is your name, not the letters behind them, nor your diagnoses, those labels of wife, mother, sister, friend... Breathe in your grace and exhale the stories that hold you back Once I knew a quiet and watchful child who held fears hand befriending a belly that fluttered her sweet racing heart a constant companion Insecurity weaved it’s way into every fiber of her tender being;  a sturdy fabric for such a delicate soul to wear This is your time to undress without shame to shrug the heaviness of that old and tattered garment off your weary shoulders Drape yourself in the finest silks and gossamer threads Inhale the heady fragrance of peace as you release the hand of fears icy grip This is your time... Angela Minard 2021© Photography by~ Kristina Makeeva

  Artwork by~ Masaaki Sasomoto At the height of my eating disorder, when I was entrenched in anorexic behaviors, I also held a full time job working with children with autism and other developmental disabilities. The only time it affected my work was when I took a leave of absence to go into treatment. I have missed work at times for mental health days, and I think that almost everyone at some time in their work history has done that. I would rather take a day for self care than to be sub par at my work. For many people struggling with mental health, routines are a huge part of maintaining normalcy and stability. These days of having extra time on my hands not teaching at the studio have thrown off my routine. I miss the structure, but have found myself feeling more creative, and exploring new ideas. I don’t often embrace change, but it may be time to take more chances, and move out of my comfort zone a bit. I’ve been working on publishing a few volumes of poetry, as well as a memo...

  Weaving the threads of time into a tapestry  the yellow Canary symbolizes the power to control the voice, feelings, and emotions... Strum the harp strings of your heart carrying the echo of your song to the stars and beyond Your infinite vibration rings strong and true... Angela Minard 2021© 

I wrote a post here about the recent presidential election. I composed it before we knew the outcome, and was so anxious, which is often when I write. I never published it. I knew things were going to be bad, but never dreamed the insurrection on January 6th would be one of the outcomes of 45’s hellish 4 years in office. I actually think the day he was sworn in is when my anxiety started to spiral. I started to feel increasingly unsafe, and I’m guessing that many trauma survivors would agree. Hell, not only trauma survivors, but minorities in general.  Last year at the beginning of the pandemic, the anxiety that I’ve always struggled with ramped up to disproportionately high levels. I had a horrible panic attack and dissociative episode that landed me in the hospital. I had been off of all psychiatric medications for at least 7 years, but made the choice to resume an antidepressant. It did help the depression, but my anxiety was still fairly high, so with my treatment team, we star...

  Even when you close your eyes the chatter doesn’t stop tap, tap, tapping on your shoulders incessant chanting in your ears... When escape is not possible build a nest, and nourish fresh thoughts while the words find a home to make sense and rest  Create a refuge; a collage of fine twigs, downy feathers, and delicate baby’s breath to line your heart with tender care finally serenaded to sleep by a birdsong lullaby Angela Minard 2021©  Artwork by Lucy Campbell

Each fold and sharp crease between thumbnail and stark white paper hisses with outrage refined angles cutting remarks behind a simpering smile shooting baskets with the misshapen wads aim and miss each paper crane is formed from everything she was told she lacked her many failures bent into the correct aesthetic shape forced to acquiesce  throbbing fingers crimp and tuck seething warmth rising with each crumpled mistake these messy pages tell her battled tale... -the lie of perfection Angela Minard©  Artwork by  Duy Huynh

Something about the birds today pulled at my heart quietly tugging my awareness skyward  Everywhere I went I could feel the fluttering of wings on my skin like the sweet breath of angels  caressing the back of my weary neck Perhaps I had been looking down for too long the weight of darkness no longer screeching but continuing to listen intently as if silence was the monster hiding While doing yard work on this atypically warm autumn day  I at first mistook the starlings that caught my eye  for swirling leaves  until their musical trilling filled the air “Look up!” they seemed to be singing insistently  Pausing to rest tilting my gaze to the heavens my eyes widened as I watched in wonder the transformation  from onyx starlings to opalescent doves the honeyed sky dripping like slow rain weightless... cradled within the downy wings of protection -You are safe Angela Minard©  Artwork by Duy Huynh

  The Third Eye  by Rutuja Padwal I’ve been dreaming quite often about being hospitalized due to mental illness. It could be because I’m struggling with my mental health, but I feel like many of us are struggling due to the pandemic. I’m not a stranger to needing inpatient treatment, but I’m not even close to that point at all. When I woke up from that dream this morning, I was acutely aware of how healthy I am compared to years ago. I’m not only healthier, but happier. I remember back to when I was working for the local school district, and barely being able to get out of bed. I was burnt out working with aggressive students, and deeply depressed. Now I am passionate about my work, and thankful that I survived that period of my life. I think that my schedule is in flux, and that throws me off. I also know that eventually it will be more consistent again, and so I work on being patient and compassionate with myself. I still see my therapist virtually, which is better than not ...

planting my hands firmly into the ground and flipping upside down shifting perspectives exploring the perimeters  a compass leading in all directions Inhale expanding freedom Exhale releasing into gravity  the outlines disappear diving into presence  hold on tight savor the moment and then let it go dancing with breath leaning into life... Angela Minard© 

Lately when my mind drops me into the past, it is big and loud, like suddenly being slapped, sharp and stinging...too much in my body, too much hurt. I look around, and I remember the dream where I hide under the bed, shivering on the cold wood floor. A small white bunny hops under the bed to join me, and I’m no longer alone or scared. The end. Only it’s not the end, is it? It’s not a dream. I confuse waking and dreaming because that is how I survived, but even now it is blurry, past and present, real or illusion, hiding under the bed... Artwork by Richard Jesse Watson

I thought I had given up blogging, but I do enjoy sending my thoughts out into the ether, out of my head, and yet still somewhere tangible. Life is change, and within the change, a tendency to resist for awhile, and for me at least, eventually a surrender. I can create as much chaos as I resist, but here I am, still participating in life. I stopped writing here during transition from my work with the autism population, and into a yoga therapy job in a behavioral health hospital, and teaching yoga full time, which still is my dream job. Last year the hospital I was working in closed, which was sudden, and a big disappointment. I wondered if I would be able to find enough work to still teach yoga full time, but I was able to find a job in another behavioral health hospital that is so close to my home, so it’s even better, and I still teach some corporate and studio classes, so I feel well rounded in my career. Covid messed with some of my income at first, but like most of the world, I wa...

I probably shouldn’t come here  and tell You Every fucking feeling that moves through me Maybe I’m not even talking to  You around and around in circles  until I’m spinning  I haven’t been here in awhile have I? I’m sick of coming back. I should know how to do this by now everyday Grows slower Grows darker like a slow motion dream that I can’t wake up from I don’t know how to stop it No one knows no one knows It’s why I tell You Angela Minard©