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A few years ago, my husband’s friend from Australia (visiting in the U.S. on business) stopped by. I think of him as your friendly, garden-variety Aussie bloke.
We sat on the porch and drank iced mint tea. Because I love learning how people think (or maybe I’m just nosey) I asked him lots questions. At one point I asked him if he considers himself liberal or conservative. He told me he was definitely conservative.
Confessions of a Navel Gazer By Kristine Kaoverii Weber | September 10, 2020 COMMENTSWhen I returned from my 4 years in Asia, I moved in with my parents for a few months until I could figure out what to do with my slightly confused 29-year-old self. I was in the habit...
Last week one email in particular made me choke on my morning tea, “Get the hell out of here with this pandering nonsense. Most people that do Yoga are enlightened and not racist.”
When I was in second grade, my classmate, a boy named Clay, chased me home from school – almost every day…sometimes all the way. It was terrifying and traumatizing. As I ran, he threatened that when he caught me, he would kill me. My mom told me to ignore him and it would stop. But it didn’t. Sometimes he would catch me and I’d fight and claw and desperately wriggle out of his grip and run. I’d arrive home gasping and crying.
I’m 28 and backpacking around India with my hot German boyfriend. We go for long, twilight swims in the warm waters of Kerala. We sit and read novels at cafés in Goa. We explore the temples in Madras and buy each other tiny earrings at tourist gem stores in Ernaculam. We take ridiculously long train rides across the country. We drink chai out of unfired clay cups and sleep in whatever cheap hotels are recommended in our Let’s Go guide books.
I am close to a person who struggles with addiction. I suspect you are too.
“Teacher,” she gulped, “I’ve realized what water is! I can’t believe it! I never knew there was such a thing and yet it’s all around me. I feel like I just took off a pair of dark sunglasses and now I can see!”
Often, when I visit yoga studios, I see yama and niyama posters on the walls – particularly, for some reason, in the bathroom. One time, when I was out of town, I found a class I wanted to take at a studio I’d never been to. When I walked in, the receptionist didn’t look up. I stood at the desk waiting for a while and when she finally acknowledged me there was very little eye contact and definitely no smile. However, a curt, “Can I help you” managed to eject itself through her teeth.
Hauling My Butt Out Of The Yoga Comparison Trap By Kristine Kaoverii Weber | June 25, 2020 COMMENTSWhen I first moved to Asheville there was a very popular teacher named Shala. People loved her classes then and they still love her classes now. I thought to myself,...
The Neurobiology of De-escalation By Kristine Kaoverii Weber | June 18, 2020 COMMENTSI'm a little biased, but I think my son has always had a great sense of humor. When he was four he started putting raspberries on his fingertips and then letting them dance to a...
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