A Message From the Universe

I’m on The Universe Talks‘ mailing list which delivers a “message from the universe” to my inbox each weekday morning. (If you don’t already get these, SIGN UP YESTERDAY. Also, you’re welcome.)

Today I woke up to:

“Resentment, anger, and impatience, Megan, all have their place. Actually, they’re absolutely priceless, revealing to those who feel them that there are still a few pieces of life’s puzzle they’ve overlooked.” 

A few days ago, I caught myself getting irritated and angry with someone over something I’d already forgiven. It was frustrating as hell since it’s done and over, I’m not still worried about it, and grudges are dead weight.

So why are these nasty feelings bubbling up?

My message from the universe asked me to stop, drop, and take a closer look at what’s really going on.

Our anger often acts as shield. Usually against fear. Fear of inadequacy, abandonment, loss of control, blah, blah, blah… all the usual suspects. Anger shifts the blame, and protects us from feelings we don’t want to admit, aren’t ready to come to terms with, or don’t realize, understand, and know how to process. (These aren’t great things, but still a hard truth.)

Anger tells us when our needs aren’t being met. Think about it. Roughly 85-95% of the time I’m feeling like an asshole, I’m either tired, hungry, or lonely.

So for a really long time, I’ve thought that if I had truly forgiven is situation than I’d forget about it. Or at least feel neutral. If I got angry about past events, it probably meant that I was still “holding on.”

But what if residual anger serves a positive purpose too? Similar to the conditioned responses we learn when we touch a hot stove. OUCH! Those little zaps of pissed off-ness can be warning bells when one of our boundaries are about to be crossed. A safety flare when there’s potential danger.

So here I am. With anger that occasionally bubbles up over something that I’ve pardoned. I’m pretty sure it’s to remind me that forgiveness isn’t the same as reconciliation. Like the time my best friend punched me in the face. I’ve forgiven her. I wish her well. But I don’t want to be friends or stay connected in any way. And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean I’m holding onto the past, I’m holding onto healthy boundaries.



I recently asked myself what I value most in a relationship.⁣⁣
Freedom in a relationship means a lot of things. For me, it’s room + support to grow individually. Solo time – both with myself and with friends. It’s not feeling the constant weight of responsibility to protect, heal, or teach my partner. Not being guilted or shamed for stepping away from conflict (or on hard days) to rest, reboot, and return in a clearer headspace. Freedom is open communication + safety to show the unedited versions of myself. The space to share nitty gritty details about my day, week, and past – along with time + patience when I’m not there yet. ⁣⁣
I have only loved truly extraordinary men. Extraordinary, but unhealed. I realized that the common denominator is me. I choose my partners. ⁣⁣
I have confused connection with compatibility. Common interests, values, and goals do not equate to a healthy relationship. Otherwise, I would have felt freedom in love.⁣⁣
I am both proud and grateful that I have chosen to be alone to explore and work on my own unhealed spaces. I’ve endured icky feelings ranging from anger and resentment to loneliness – all without distracting myself with new relationships. work projects, or an overactive social calendar. ⁣⁣
I’m evolving. Progressing and healing instead of repeating the same behaviors. ⁣⁣
It’s difficult. It isn’t always fun. But it’s been a liberating experience to do the work on my own instead of carrying it into another relationship.⁣⁣
Freedom is worth it. ⁣

Love Machine

Thank you for reminding me that the heart’s purpose is to deliver oxygen to the sacred waters that flow through me, and put my focus on the stewardship of my body and spirit. -Pixie Lighthorse

I was happy. Immensely happy. I woke up each morning thanking the sun, moon, stars, and my lover for choosing me. I was the luckiest girl on the planet.

Having the privilege of experiencing bliss makes the bitterness of loss felt more deeply. After shedding many, many tears and allowing myself to sit with the pain; feeling each sharp, jagged edge of my broken heart – I realize it’s knowing the promise that love exists that fans the flame of hope in my soul.

Every time your heart breaks, finding that kind of happiness again seems unimaginable. But each new love burns bigger and brighter than the last.

It’s out there. Waiting for me. And that makes it easier to get up and dust myself off to walk through another day.

I’ve moved forward with more ease than anticipated. With each new intimate connection, I find myself with a partner more in alignment with my values and in a healthier, more nurturing, more loving relationship.

It literally keeps getting better and better. Which means I’m on the right path. And I want to remain open for what comes next.

Hiding out and mourning the past will not make my heart available for new experiences. Setting out each day with faith, courage, compassion, love, and the willingness to share my heart with others does.

And this girl is made to love.

So get ready for it.

Pieces of Me

At the beginning of my last relationship, I decided to write a blog about finding balance while in a romantic relationship.

But I never did.

Because I never found balance.

Almost two weeks ago when the relationship ended, I decided to write about it again.

But I haven’t.

Because it takes me ages to write, rewrite, tweak and then start all over again. Twice. Three times. Because my writing never seems to be as witty or eloquent as all the other people who put their words out into the world. And comparison is a bitch. Also, a killjoy. I’m finally understanding it isn’t perfection that’s important. Getting these feelings outside of my body is important. Writing is the only way I’ve ever been able to clearly articulate what I’m feeling. (I’m going to be working on that with my new therapist this year.)

In the meantime, maybe you’ll enjoy my musings. Maybe you’ll hate them. Maybe you’ll read each word nodding in agreement, and sign up for my newsletter to follow along closely. Maybe you’ll unsubscribe immediately.

It doesn’t matter. (Not to be confused with “I don’t care,” because deep down we all know validation from others feels f*cking awesome.) But it doesn’t matter because for the first time in my life, I’m not doing this for anyone else. And I’m not going to try so damn hard to be perfect. To be everything to everyone. (Note: I’m crying actual as I type this sentence.)

Writing helps me to process my emotions. Thus far, sharing some of these icky feelings on Instagram has been therapeutic. And from your feedback, it seems to be relatable + even therapeutic for some of you too.

So here I am. Offering these unedited pieces of myself in all my wounded-but-healing glory.

I hope they help you. But mostly, I hope they help me.


The Struggle Is Real

I’m reminded today that mourning can be incredibly lonely. Maybe it’s because no two people grieve in the same way. You can be in a room surrounded by others experiencing the same loss, but still feel alone.

We all know that life is a cycle with ups, downs, a beginning, middle, and end. Even when you have time to prepare for it, the loss of a vibrant life is still sharply felt. More so when the cycle ends early. But when the end is met by one’s own hands, I think the dagger in the hearts of those left behind twists a bit deeper.

Addiction is real, you guys. It’s scary, and it’s a growing problem. It does not discriminate, and it viciously takes lives.  I think it’s important to be clear: People struggling with addiction are not bad people. They are sick people.

As the daughter of an alcoholic, I’ve learned firsthand that you cannot save people. You can only love them. Over many moons and many years I’ve watched a growing number of family members, friends, peers, and acquaintances move into and throughout various stages of recovery. There are good days, weeks, and months. There are bad days, really bad days, many mistakes, false starts, and fresh ones. Second chances, third changes, thirtieth chances. Today is a harsh reminder that sometimes the people win; sometimes the sickness wins.

As I sit here mourning the loss of someone I once knew, I can’t help but think how little support our society lends to those seeking sobriety. Our culture glamorizes drinking. Even our spaces designed for wellness, health, fitness, and spiritual development proudly proclaim, “Detox to retox!” as gyms sell alcohol and yoga studios host Vino & Vinyasa nights.

I’m not here to judge or point fingers. I’m not asking you to quit partaking in your recreational things, or stop going to social events where there’s alcohol. Hell, I love a good cab sauv myself.  I’m just wondering… posing the question: As a society, are we inadvertently alienating those struggling with sobriety, or worst case even contributing to the problem?

We’ve seen the stats. We know that addiction is on the rise – especially in young people. We’ve acknowledged the increase in suicide (both intentional and accidental). So this a dialogue worth having.

What can we do?

I don’t have that answer.

I’m piecing together that for me supporting others working to achieve/maintain sobriety means treating addiction like a disease. I don’t blame people for being sick, I ask how I can help, shower them with love and well wishes, and tell them that I’m thinking about them while they go through this difficult time.

For me, it’s showing up with Thai food, hugs, a shoulder to cry on when they’ve been diagnosed. Listening and asking questions, with compassion, when they need to share. Checking in to ask how they’re feeling physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Cheering them onwards and celebrating the milestones! Understanding without judgment when there are setbacks. It might mean tagging along for a few check-ups in the form of meetings – not only to provide support, but to learn more so that I can be a better friend. I’m sure the list will expand and evolve over time, but it’s all I’ve got for now.

Life is sacred. We only get one, and we touch so many others by our mere existence. If changing the approach to my role can be even the tiniest piece in the puzzle leading to someone else’s success story, it’s worth it.

We lost a fun, kind, intelligent, thoughtful, bright light in the world this week. Sending all my love and support to those left behind, to those of you struggling with addiction, or working on/kicking ass in recovery, and to those loving and cheering for a win from the sidelines. The struggle is real, and at the end of the day we’re all doing the best we can.

Mother Earth’s Lessons in Love

0E683B1B-5370-4FAD-B818-D2F821557C68-56024-00002AAD7AE58AC0This morning I was reminded that our greatest teacher, Mother Earth, sometimes has trouble letting go.

We are a quarter of they way through the month of April, and it was 34 degrees when I bundled up in my full length, furry-hooded coat to take Mr. Darcy out this morning. As we walked down the sidewalk lined with frosted spring flowers, I couldn’t help but relate to the Great Mother’s unwillingness to surrender to a new season.

It’s hard to move forward when you recognize love in something. Nobody can avoid falling in love. Especially when it is an organic love, sprouted from a mysterious seed that developed into the most exquisite bloom imaginable. One of those loves where you know the universe has your back. You can feel it fighting for your souls to connect because the coincidences are too many, too strange, and too strong.

The love we carry inside of us is a force of nature. It pulses through us, and spreads to everything it touches. The earth, and our love, has a circular rhythm. A cycle. As the seasons change, so do our lives, our relationships, and the way we give and receive love.

How strange it is to find yourself at the juncture, and realize your love is moving in different directions. How strange it is that after all that, we are once again strangers who may not cross paths again.

This morning, I sent out a little prayer to the Universe hoping you’re okay. That it’s okay. That all the parts of you I remember are still there, and that you grow stronger, wiser, and find more peace each day. I pray that you’re healing, and that you’re happy. Even if it’s not with me. Thank you for being part of my journey, and allowing me to take part in yours.

Jai Siddhatma: Victorious Are Liberated Souls

Two weeks ago, I sat alone with a glass of wine desperately trying to decompress from another week filled with dance classes, yoga classes, students of all ages demanding my undivided attention, rushing from one space to the next, and found myself googling “silent retreats.” I stumbled upon Siddhayatan Spiritual Retreat. After browsing through their offerings, I noticed that for a small additional fee I could bring Mr. Darcy and within minutes I had impulsively reserved my space for the following week.

Monday morning the pup and I set off for the ashram in East Texas. The day was bright, brisk, and beautiful. Mr. Darcy napped for the majority of the drive while I sang along to all of my favorite 70s jams.


Upon arrival, I was greeted by one of the nuns who went over my options along with the general rules and guidelines. Since puppy was with me, we were staying off the main property. The space was simple, modest, and bare, but clean and more than enough room for the two of us.


The area surrounding us was enclosed with a special gate designed to keep the coyotes out, so Mr. Darcy was free to run wild and play fetch. We did a fair amount of wandering outside the gate before I had to head back to the main property for mantra with the Master and other retreaters.

My knowledge of mantra is limited, but I was familiar with several from my 300hr training. For the first few I opted to listen, but by the second page I readily joined in. The energy you feel when reciting mantra with a group is almost tangible. It reverberates and pulses throughout your body – you’re almost humming with energy like a plucked guitar string.


It was fun to meet people from all over the world who had found their way to this place. Some had been there for over a month, others had arrived within the past few days. One of the men asked why I was there. He said that everyone who came to Siddhayatan was searching for something. He also told me that while someone had successfully done a 38 day water fast, but the longest anyone had gone without talking was 8 days.

The silence wasn’t so bad. While a little lonely being separated from the group on the other side of the property, I was able to chant in the mornings and spend time with others during meals. There is something both peaceful and liberating to be able to absorb all of the activity and conversation happening around you without the expectation or obligation to participate.


I hadn’t realized how much I’ve been needing to slow down. I spent countless hours wandering through fields with Mr. Darcy, and the rest of my time reading, writing, and sleeping. I was able to identify my fear behind some of the issues I’ve been dealing with, and have felt a pretty big internal shift since naming them out loud. The next time you have an opportunity to do something out of the ordinary, I encourage you to book it before you have time to change your mind. It could change your life!



Smoke on the water after morning mantra on the walk to breakfast.


Beautiful flowers I was able to capture on the Spring Equinox.

Texas sunsets make my heart flutter. This was my view between mantra and dinner Monday night.


Finding My Dharma

Transformation is painful. It’s often overwhelming, and I’m finding that a lot of times it feels like I’m falling apart. I know that spiritual, physical, and emotional evolution requires altering behaviors, habits, and sometimes moving past belief systems and relationships that no longer align with my purpose.

But knowing these things are necessary doesn’t make the process any less difficult.

Cultivating mindfulness and self-awareness isn’t a beautiful thing. It’s often pretty lonely. It’s staring mistakes, faults, and failures straight in the eye, and then making the decision to change.

I didn’t start this year with the intention to redirect and reroute. A lot of times, I feel like a victim of circumstance. Some days it feels like I don’t have any bridges left to burn. There has been a lot of hurting, an outpouring of tears, and many endings.

But with death comes rebirth, and destruction creates space to build.

I’ve asking myself the big questions:

Who am I?

What do I want?

What am I grateful for?

What is my dharma?

I’m exploring and evolving. It’s difficult to shake the guilt, anger, and grief, but I’m learning to move forward with more patience and forgiveness for myself. I’m finding diligence and courage that I wasn’t aware I was capable of.

And the future looks bright.

Even if I’m not the most fun and popular teacher. Even if not everyone likes me.

I’m learning to be okay with this process. And there is a certain sense of peacefulness that comes with admitting that: This is who I am right now. This is me.

As painful as it’s been, I know I am finding my way. And if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to hold some hands while others find theirs too.

The Gratitude Challenge

I’m a huge proponent of throwing my thoughts, feelings, and general musings into a journal while I drink my morning coffee. I went through a rough period upon moving to Dallas in late 2011, and one of my New Years resolutions was to make it a priority to list three things I’m grateful for each day. I’m happy to report that it’s probably the only resolution I’ve ever stuck with.

It’s changed my life.

I find that that the practice forces me to be more positive. To be more insightful. Yes, there are days that I report I’m grateful for tacos and puppies (duh), but it also helps me to acknowledge that good can be found in the most challenging situations.

For example: This year I learned from two miserably failing romantic relationships that (1) If people want to be with you, they will find a way. They will overcome extreme obstacles and challenges to be by your side – if only for a weekend; and (2) It doesn’t have to be a battle of who cares less. If you feel the pull of connection and you want to be with someone, it’s okay to say “I want you, and no one else.” Even if it’s two weeks into the relationship. Those are two pretty fucking incredible lessons to draw from something that didn’t work out the way you wanted. And for that, I’ll be eternally grateful.

At the beginning of November, my Little Rock yogi loves hopped on board for Kino MacGregor and Kerri Verna‘s Gratitude Challenge, so I decided to give it a shot. The challenge was designed to be all about gratitude leading up to the Thanksgiving Holiday. To participate you had to share your practice of the challenge pose that day (or any pose ) and write something that you are grateful for. Daily reflection of gratitude can change your life!

Some days I felt inspired. Some days my gratitude was less profound. Here are the things I was grateful over the past month. Check out my Instagram for the yoga pose images.


NOV 1 – My stance could be wider. My hips could be more squared. It. Doesn’t. Matter. I’m grateful for the space yoga creates to explore my practice authentically + unapologetically. My asanas aren’t always perfect, and my life isn’t perfect. We have bad days + better days. And that’s okay. Keep it real.

NOV 2 – I am super grateful for my juicer. It’s nearly impossible to find fresh juice w/o added sugars and preservatives that isn’t obscenely overpriced. Plus, my eyes are far larger than my tummy and I often come home with ALL OF THE PRODUCE. Juicing is a great way to use up veggies, fruits, and herbs that you won’t be able to eat before they go bad. Get creative!

NOV 3 – Connection. Arguably the most wonderful, exciting, juicy part of the human existence. Today I’m feeling grateful for human connection. Those who have touched my life in both large + small ways, helping to shape who I am as a person.

NOV 4 – I’m grateful for time off. It’s been a really long time since I’ve scheduled a day without any plans. There’s something liberating about having no idea where the day will take you. We ended up at the park, walking the largest pedestrian bridge in North America, making delicious juice concoctions, and dinner with friends.

NOV 5 – Yesterday was the first fall-feeling day. Leaves changing colors, hoodies, scarves + boots, warm sunny days + cool snuggly nights, soup, tea, cinnamon, + spices… that was the thing I missed most while living in Texas. Autumn is finally here! Super grateful for the change of seasons.

NOV 6 – I’m grateful to have the privilege of teaching ballet + yoga as my full time job. There are days it’s tougher to get out of bed + roll to the studio than others, but even my worst days at work are good days. I cannot think of a greater gift than to get to do what I love every single day. I still can’t believe to get paid to do this!

NOV 7 – Confession: I’m not looking forward to voting tomorrow. I’ve been a master procrastinator, missed early voting, and the thought of standing in line half of the afternoon makes me cringe. However, I am exceptionally grateful that I have the privilege and opportunity to contribute. Despite the less than optimal choices, I like living in a place where I’m encouraged to participate be heard. Your vote counts. My vote counts. That’s a really special thing.

NOV 8 – Each Tuesday I teach a two-year-old ballet class. The group is mixed race + gender. Yesterday, each child ran into my arms with a giant hug and a smile. That is my job. To teach love. To teach kindness, compassion, and acceptance. My job is to create a safe space that allows others the freedom to learn, move, and to be themselves while feeling strong, smart, confident, and important. Ballet + yoga are about so much more than movement. I am  grateful to begin the teaching day with my baby class. They gave me perspective + reminded me that my job is to put more love out into the world. It’s your job too. We need so much love right now. Love. Love. Love.

NOV 9 – I am grateful that the election is over.

NOV 10 – I’m grateful to live alone. In the yoga/dance education profession you’ve always got to be “on” at work. It doesn’t matter how your day is going, how you’re feeling, or whether or not you slept last night. This week has been especially challenging because student emotions have run rampant. There isn’t any room for how I feel. Walking into an empty house (aside from Mr. Darcy) has allowed space for decompression, time to process, and allowed distance so that I can rest + recharge. Also, I can roam around naked if I want.

NOV 11 – Grateful to get sweaty. Sometimes the best medicine is to get moving, heart pumping, endorphins flowing.

NOV 12 – I’m grateful for literature. Books are one of my favorite ways to get lost.

NOV 13 – Super grateful for all my soul twins out there. The people who just get it. Instant connection, mutual gravitational pull, insight, laughter, love, support. You make this life bright even at the darkest times. Thanking for sharing your light with me.

NOV 14 – Today I am grateful for rituals. Daily routines become meaningful moments when you pay attention to the details. Each morning upon waking I boil water for the French press, walk puppy while downtown is still asleep, and then stand in the kitchen with my journal while drinking dark roast w/ honey + coconut milk as Mr. Darcy snoozes in the other room on my bed. I’m not sure why I stand, but I do. I’m not sure why this ritual is comforting, but it is.

NOV 15 – This morning I woke up with super sore obliques after some inventive core exercises I lead in class yesterday. It reminded me how grateful for I am for movement. The miracle of muscles, bones, and neural impulses working together to literally carry you through this world at will. Growing up with a quadriplegic sister, I’ve been acutely aware that controlled movement is a gift. Sore abs after a hard workout, exhausted legs after a long bike ride or hike… it’s not something to complain about. It’s magic, you guys.

NOV 16 – I’m grateful for friends. The super close sibling kinds, the ones you talk to every six months, the ones who live down the hall, and the ones who reside across an ocean, and even the ones I’ve met through IG, but have yet to see in person. You push me to be better, pull me out of my slumps, make me laugh, cry, sing, dance, and look at the world in ways I’d never imagined. Thank you for sharing your gifts, insight, light, love, and radiance. You inspire me.

NOV 17 – Today I am grateful for my struggles. Without them, I might not be aware of my strength.

NOV 18 – I’m pretty big on self practice, but tonight I was reminded how grateful I am to have workout buddies. Hanging, bonding, sweating, moving + encouraging each other to commit to our health. It’s pretty sweet stuff. Thanks to @breezyosborne for leading Friday night practice + @toddbrinkley + @nicole_french for sandwiching me with your good vibes! 

NOV 19 – Grateful for a solo date night. Fuzzy pjs, hair in a jumbled bun fluff, hot water w/ mint leaves + silly, feel good movie binge.

NOV 20 – Today I’m grateful (honored, humbled, thrilled, etc.) that I was invited to lead the warm-up for Little Rock’s Girls on the Run 5k. Few things feel as good as giving back, putting more positivity energy into the world, and empowering little women in creative, active, and healthy ways.

NOV 21 – Today, and everyday, I am grateful for my sassy, stumpy-tailed life partner @mrdarcypup. I love him to the moon + back (even though I threaten to send his terrorist puppy self to the pound sometimes). 

NOV 22 – Today I’m grateful for people who cook for me. Because surf + turf.

NOV 23 – I am grateful for physical touch. Reassuring squeezes of the hand, celebratory high fives, supportive hugs, passionate embraces, therapeutic massages, thoughtful adjustments. Human touch can can be healing, and can often convey what words can’t.

NOV 24 – Over the past month I’ve picked a specific thing each day that I’m grateful for. And today? I’m grateful for life. To breathe air into my lungs, to open my eyes and see the world around me, to hear each note of songs + laughs. To be alive is such an extraordinary gift. Happy Thanksgiving, my loves.