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There is a journal prompt and. meditation to support you breathing deeply at the bottom of this page that directly corresponds to my story I share with you. Happy reading. Happy meditating. Happy writing.
I have had a lot to share with you for quite some time now but I fell silent. My social media posts ceased being transparent. Did you notice? Instead of personal tales, I filled my feed with memes and quotes that I resonated with, like this one below.
So much changed in my life between 2018 and this present moment. I found myself hiding behind the memes instead of sharing what I was actually going through; an intense rebirth. Everything felt sacred. Everything felt private. I was adjusting to living in a small country where being anonymous like in New York City, the concrete jungle where I had lived for 14 years, was no longer a thing. However the desire to speak and write grew too strong to ignore. I have a B.A. in Journalism and Communications no less. I love writing about life and sharing how I stay inspired in this wild, wild world. And so here I am. And here you are. A new chapter of sharing candid stories and life lessons is here!
And so it is…
I’ll start this new chapter by sharing a story I have only shared with my inner circle. It’s about why I paused my work. Why I am no longer in New York City and why I am ready to begin sharing candidly again while living in a country far away from anything seemingly American (and how amazing that is).
Firstly, take a deep breath with me. Inhale….Exhale…
It was November of 2019. I remember sitting on a hotel bed, unsure of what was becoming of my life while holding onto deep breaths like my mental health depended on it, which it did. My breath felt like the only thing I could control. From my career to my home and family structure death was all around me. The abrasive New York City weather was beginning to trigger my seasonal depression. My heart ached from grief. I desperately wanted to leave NYC at least for the winter months. To clear my head. To sit with my sadness. To be warmed by a tropical sun. To pause and just breathe.
My beloved father had died the year before, February 28th, 2018. ‘He made sure to make it into Black History Month,’ I often joked to ease the shock of it all. Back in May of 2018 he was diagnosed with stage four Glioblastoma; an aggressive and incurable brain cancer. It rocked the whole family. He was spiritual. He was self-aware. He was loving. He was health-oriented. He was an amazing Dad. And Cancer took him from us. It was a nightmarish eight months of brain surgery, then blood thinners, steroids, radiation, hospital visits, falls, more hospital visits, more falls, failed rehab, other traumatizing events and eventually hospice. My hand was on his heart when he took his last breath that cold February night. I literally felt his soul leave his body in that hospice bed. What an honor. What a horror. My family structure changed. My career changed. I changed. It was the beginning of everything burning down.
In 2019 I became aware of a voice literally saying to me, “Burn it all down!” Where it came from I do not know. But I remember it vividly as I was setting up for my second and last dinner I hosted for Black Women in NYC as a global ambassador for Lululemon; a brand that was traumatizing to work for. But I digress as I will leave that story for another day. My yoga career was booming though. I had been on three major magazine covers over the course of one year plus a 2016 catalogue cover for my Alma Mater, Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health.
I was flying to Japan, China, Vancouver, L.A. and beyond teaching and being photographed. I even interviewed via invitation to become a Peloton yoga instructor only to bomb part of the interview process because I screwed up some of the meeting locations; something not like me. But also something very telling: I was burned out!!!!!!!!!!! I emailed them saying I wasn’t interested before they could do the same. “Burn it all down,” the voice in my head boomed.
Career wise I felt exploited. I felt underpaid considering my successes representing billion dollar companies. I would have friends and followers tag me in ad campaigns I didn’t even know I was in simply because I had signed horrible contracts that basically had me handing over my future first born child. It’s tough when you love and live by what you do. It’s easy to be taken advantage of. And yes, I had lawyers look over agreements but the negotiating process with these “wellness” companies was brutal. It was either ‘do you want it or not’ and at the time, I wanted it. I wanted to be seen. I wanted represent black women in wellness. I wanted a global community. I was successful at accomplishing this. But owning my work would later become my biggest focus. You live and you learn.
I was also in a relationship with a narcissist from 2016 to 2019. Well, I didn’t know I was with one until I did a deep dive post-breakup. But the first revelation was while we were in couple’s therapy. The therapist told me I was in an emotionally abusive relationship and that blew my wig back (it’s just a saying; I own zero wigs). My anxiety was through the roof. Paranoia was creeping in and I hated who I was becoming in the relationship. As much teaching experience as I had; as many yogic and meditation practices as I knew, I was losing my grasp on who I was. And living in NYC was exhausting; the subway, the sirens, the pace of life. My body and soul were weary.
After leaving my abusive relationship that looked amazing on Instagram, I put my things in storage and ended up on that hotel bed I mentioned earlier during the winter of 2019 wondering how on earth I was going to survive let alone thrive. My belongings were in boxes, I no longer had my rent stabilized apartment in Brooklyn and Lululemon decided not to renew my contract which I was actually relieved about. It had also been a toxic relationship of them telling me to jump and expecting me to consistently and gratefully ask how high!? I was a people pleaser with no boundaries. But I did great work for them no less because I am also an over achiever.
With courage, deep breaths and prayer, I decided to book a one-way ticket somewhere warm. It was either Mexico, a country I loved or Grenada; an unknown destination on my travel list where a Grenadian and fellow yoga teacher invited me to visit. I meditated on it and decided to check out Grenada on February 1st, 2020. I planned to stay for the winter months and perhaps move to L.A. in the spring. But as the saying goes, “When you make plans, God laughs.”
Grenada is pronounced Gree-nay-dah, btw. Not to be confused with Granada in Spain.
Bring in the CoronaVirus, March of 2020 aka ‘Rona. One month into my very lovely visit to Grenada, the world was shutting down. My options were to fly back to the good ‘ol USA or to stay exactly where I was. The U.S. Embassy sent alerts via email urging its citizens to return “home” immediate or prepare to be stuck. The pressure was gettin worser! I was settling nicely into the Isle of Spice, a tourism term coined for beautiful Grenada which is a major producer of nutmeg, cocoa, cinnamon and so much more. As I sat and breathed through my uncertainty I realized Grenada felt more like home than America. Say what?!
The sun was perfect. The flora and fauna divine. There were beaches everywhere. There were people who looked like me inhabiting every corner of the island. My anxiety had decreased. My personal practices were alive again and it was mango season no less! So, I took one of the biggest risks of my life. I listened to my intuition and I stayed put in a country far away from what I had ever known before. I had no idea how this small country would handle ‘Rona but I was willing to risk it all and die here if anywhere if the world actually came to an end. But guess what? Sweet, little Grenada closed its boarders to control the viral spread while NYC became the epicenter! Intuition is where it’s at! I ended up exactly where I was supposed to be.
During the rage of ‘Rona I received more opportunities to work with more big time wellness companies. I turned all of them down. None of the contracts felt good. Not enough pay. No opportunity to own my own work. So instead I took another risk. I decided to move my work online. My first five-day workshop during the pandemonium was titled, “I Can Breathe” in honor of the trauma caused by George Floyd’s murder and the “I Can’t Breathe” mantra from the Black Lives Matter movement. I wanted to empower my community. I wanted us to reclaim our breath. I wanted us to learn why the breath was vital for our mind, body and spirit. The workshop was wildly successful and over the course of two years I would lead many, many more.
It’s been four years now of living in Grenada and figuring out what’s next. Time is so weird. But time has also allowed me to settle in. To slow down. To continue grieving. To pause and just breathe as I reimagine what I want life to look and feel like. This country wrapped me in its arms and told me that I belong. I never, ever felt like that growing up in America. I was always aware of my skin color and how I presented myself. Terrified of the police. Of being shot. Of going grocery shopping or to a concert, never to return. America is intense.
None of this is my worry here on the Isle of Spice. I feel safe. I feel loved. I feel inspired. And to be honest at times I also feel very lonely. I am still a foreigner witnessing the magic of a culture I wish I had been born into. But this is where my life begins again. This is where I am planting new roots. This is the tropical sun I had been searching for.
I have sacrificed a lot to live abroad in regards to money and opportunities but my quality of live is unmatched. I have fought depression but have come out even stronger. I am learning how to be my own boss. To trust my “No” knowing an amazing “Yes” is on the way. I have healed the trauma of past abusive relationships only to find myself in the healthiest one. I am coming home to myself, outside of America.
I think my Dad had something to do with my unexpected move to this country and for that I thank him often. Thank you, dear ancestors. I am home.
There is more to share. So much more. But I will end here. For now.
The moral of the story: Let things burn down. Fires clear new paths. Trust the breakdown. Trust the process. Trust your intuition. Find your way home. And when all else fails, just breathe.
Let’s Practice Together
This meditation will teach you how to breathe more deeply. I’ll write about the power of the breath soon but just as a reminder, our breath is the only involuntary autonomic response in the body that we can control. And with a more deep and controlled breath, our nervous system calms down and we can be in the present moment; the only place life is actually happening and the only space where we can listen to our intuition for guidance. This is a 9-minute meditation however in your daily life, this breath can be accessed quickly whenever you need to pause and just breathe.
I’d love to hear from you! How do you feel? What came up for you? Share your wisdom in the comments.
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Journal prompts to inspire your creative flow
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I Left America and Found Home