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.

It is important to bear witness to these moments of global social injustice. Feeling the grief, anger, and frustration of the collective, we see more clearly what parts of our humanity need tending to.

When does suffering mean stop?

It brings stillness to the anxious movements of my mind. The emotional chatter settles for a softer whisper and I can finally hear myself think.

Disconnection lies at the root of most of our imbalances. We’re disconnected from nature, from our bodies, from the quiet voice within that has more wisdom than we can even begin to imagine. But above all else, we’re increasingly disconnected from community.

Most of my clients know intimately which eating, movement, and emotional patterns are helping or harming them. But that’s part of the problem.

We build entire systems and societies around shared stories, envisioning futures we then bring into fruition. Yet this expansive imagination can become a barrier to our well-being if we operate from a place of anxiety, fear, or self-judgment.

I’ve learned to never trust my clients when they say, “I think it’s normal.”

I tend to be a control freak and it just really isn’t serving me anymore. Sharing some reflections on the importance of letting go.

These last few weeks have been grueling for Iranians across the diaspora. Every day we are cloaked in feelings of grief, guilt, rage, and paranoia.

When working with my clients, I’ve found that people often think setting boundaries is somehow selfish. That protecting their own health and well-being comes at a cost of supporting others.

Anger is not an emotion I feel comfortable with. I’m afraid of a fire that runs that hot—that has the potential to be destructive and vicious.

When I received my multiple sclerosis diagnosis, I began adjusting my eating, movement, and lifestyle routines to better support my mind-body system while I wait to begin medical treatment.

In my last post, I traced the sources of inflammation that triggered my optic neuritis flareup and shared that it was up to the doctors to understand why my immune system was having this kind of reaction—demyelination—in response.

On the 8th day of my 15-day Italian adventure, my left eye began to lose some sight.

Easing our bodies and minds into a new chapter requires that we release the elements of Spring that no longer nourish us and cultivate new habits that will keep us healthy and vibrant in the Summer.

The horrors of these last few weeks have tilted our collective energy towards the heaviness of grief, anger, and frustration. It is important to feel these feelings and to not become desensitized to them. It is also equally important to know when and how to bring yourself back to center to protect your own mental health.

This week was a reminder that balance only exists in the presence of counterbalance.

If we’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, we’re going to want the immediate intervention that stops us from falling. A guardrail that halts our destructive momentum.

It was this time last year that I realized I hit burnout. Here are some reflections on why some of us reach this point.