Out of aligment

I’m waiting for the faucet to turn on. I keep getting drips and drabs here and there, but the words aren’t flowing. I just can’t tap into that feeling.

When inspiration anchors me to the earth and straightens my spine, lifts my face to meet the warmth of insight’s rays. When I’m transcribing more than writing, furiously trying to keep up with the voice echoing across my mind.

It sounds like me, but sits somewhere deeper. I know enough to never fully claim it as my own.

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I enter this season carrying the hallmark imbalance of fall with a running start on the imbalances of winter. I am both drained and blocked, weak and heavy.

You could say I’m an overachiever.

The cold winds of Vata knocked me off my center and I let myself veer off into the deep end. A curious little trust fall. I’ll bring myself back, I promise. But first, let’s see how far this thing goes.

Grief lifted me out of my body and into my mind, trapping me in a spiral of anxiety, self-judgment, and indecision. Analyze. Intellectualize. Dissociate. Repeat.

My body’s been trying to help me, pleading with me to sit down and realign my mind. Instead, I slump into the folds of my couch with a bowl of something that brings me joy as I drown my thoughts in a familiar sound.

Where you lead, I will follow, anywhere that you tell me to…

I inhale, but forget to breathe.

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When I’m depressed, I turn to food as comfort. My little life raft over here in the deep end. There is wisdom in this impulse to slow down and nourish myself. To reach for the things that remind me of home. But I pathologize it with my shame.

Marching to a relentless beat of “I shoulds,” I transform this joy into punishment. The first match I light when I feel like burning it all down.

I’m learning it’s okay to reach for the pleasures of life when we need relief. But we can stretch out our hands from a place of love instead of fear or shame. We can choose to embrace these comforts through creativity, through culture, through tradition.

We can make it a meditation.

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The winter solstice this year falls on December 21st, which we celebrate in Persian culture as Shab-e Yalda. We light candles, eat vibrant fruits, and tell jokes—all charms to protect us in the long dark night. My favorite tradition is how we turn to Hafiz to divine our fate for the upcoming season, weaving together our culture’s past, present, and future through poetry.

These rituals remind us of winter’s greatest gift: an opportunity to turn inwards in the warmth of good company.

Our focus this season is to embrace rest and nourishment, and then when the time is right, to use this replenished energy to reactivate our mind, body, and spirit.

Remaining connected to our bodies is the real task this season, for they will tell us when we’ve had our fill. When we’ve collected enough kindling and are ready to light the fires that ward off stagnancy and illuminate our path to greater joy, purpose, and vitality.

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I must tend to my own heart this upcoming season, so my offerings will be simple. When you’re ready to plant the seeds of intention that will blossom through the spring, schedule a 90-minute holistic wellness coaching session. If you’re a part of my local Seattle community, I will also be hosting more workshops and events. More on those soon.

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I love you all. Be kind to yourselves. Be kind to each other.

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ای خدا، ای فلک، ای طبیعت

شامِ تاریکِ ما را سحر کن

O God, O Universe, O Nature!

Turn this dark night of ours into dawn.

—Tasnif Morghe Sahar

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A prayer for Shab-e Yalda

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My mother’s vow