8:24pm and I’ve pulled myself away from loved ones to write this. Belly full of salad and pasta and apple cinnamon muffins. Sunny days here lately, which make for beautiful views but melting powder. It’s the only time in my life I see it’s sunny outside so decide it’s a “day in”. Days in consist of drawing, writing, hair wrapping, movie snuggling, responding to loved ones, napping, whatever comes my way between the work hours. I went for my first run of the year today, the streets were dried up enough to find patches of pavement for my shoes. It felt amazing.

After yesterday’s post of Himalaya whisperings my friend Guillaume from Indonesia invited me to Like a group on Facebook called The Donkeys. Usually when someone sends me an invite to Like something I don’t look at it… (Sorry…) and as I was meaning to click on a notification below his I accidentally opened what he sent. It’s a group who hikes around the Himalayas offering art supplies to rural children and their next hike is in May. I messaged him and asked if he’d read my blog and then thought to send me the info, or if that was just divine timing at it’s best. Divine timing y’all, divine timing. 

I taught a 6am yoga class this morning in the lodge’s lounge space. The moon was still out and we got to see the sky turn to day. It was the first time I’d taught in months and I felt nervous about it last night, which I saw as a good thing and that much more of a reason to do it. Things that make me nervous always entice me. It’s a disguised way of your soul saying This. 

A loved one here told me yesterday he couldn’t imagine me angry or sad. Said I was always smiling. When I lived with Annie in the fall she told me one day how I am Joy. I don’t think these people know how much these reflections mean. I’ve spent the majority of my life working to be happier, wanting and reaching to wake up with joy; I think sometimes I get caught up in still trying to work for it that I forget It’s Here. There’s not a day that goes by that I am not grateful for the lifted cloud of depression. It’s been  a year and a half now and still I sit in awe at what it can do to a person, at how uncontrollable your sadness can be. 

Another loved one here told me she misses being someone who hugs people more. She said you can’t just fake it til you make it with hugging. Though fake-it-til-you make it is typically a major life motto of mine, I agreed on this one – hugging someone inauthentically? Awkward. I said she manifested her environment now though – surrounded by people to hug and who abundantly hug her, too – and that those pieces of herself she misses inside is still there, already re-blossoming back open. She hugged a new staff member tonight so naturally, without thinking, and after I saw it I said to her, “Did you see how easily you just hugged her?” She smiled, and then hugged me, too. Sometimes all we need is the loving mirror of another to remember We Already Are. 

In college I sung in a gospel choir and at the end of practice we’d circle up. Every time, no matter what, the circle was closed with arms thrown up in the air and a celebratory shout of – “Hug Somebody!”

Hug somebody, y’all. Hug somebody and remember that You Already Are. 

   
Japanese cemetery spotted on my afternoon run