I do believe there is as much joy in this world as there is suffering, though I have not historically experienced life this way. It’s ironic, because my name translates to variations on cheerful/happy/light-hearted in the Italian and Spanish languages. Acknowledging suffering more than joy, for me, has been a conscious choice and an exercise in elevating our common hardship … honoring our shared spirituality … declaring “I know it hurts, I’ll endure it with you, I won’t look away.”

It was nearing 9 pm on a Tuesday in May. I was sitting beside Nana on the edge of her bed, trying to help her finish the 6-ounce glass of orange juice still lingering from breakfast. She looked thoughtful, so naturally I asked her what she was thinking.

There is no good way to make sense of this. The loveliest lady. I mean the classiest, most delightful, most graceful, strongest of women by any standards. I mean the best a friend anyone could ever even imagine. I am talking caregiver, cheerleader, confidant for the 41 years of my current particular existence. And countless amounts of time beyond that for all the others whose lives she has touched, whose paths she has crossed. Nana is nearing death.

Sharing some words for those who struggle in life … struggle with letting it all go, letting it all be … struggle with relinquishing control and just trusting … struggle with loving ourselves and the beings around us … struggle with losing faith and finding it again … so all of us, at some point, undeniably.

We hear about it all the time … the magic of being grateful, how gratitude is the best attitude, or some other iteration of sage wisdom we might choose to carry with us for an injection of inspiration to get us through the days.

Inner dialogue. You know it all too well. The conversations you have with yourself. Minute by minute. Day in and day out. The exchanges you’ve been entertaining ever since, well, you can remember.

Let’s talk about breathing. Seems like a no-brainer, right? We are alive, we must be doing it. And this is fine, if you want to stop there. But you don’t. Because that’s surface, and you’re up to something bigger … we all are … even if we don’t know it.

We’re short on time, short on quiet and short on stillness. The modern day way is full of gifts, including technology and instantaneous results, but also full of pitfalls if we don’t give ourselves a moment – actually, lots of moments.

Through the practice of yoga, both on and off the mat, we set ourselves on a course to access greater ease in life. Thinking on the term ease may conjure up thoughts of relief from physical discomfort as well as peace from the mind’s incessant activity – both common reasons people embark on the yoga path to begin with.

Each day, we wake up with a list of things to do, places to go, people to see – all aspects of living in the physical world, inside our unique communities inside the global village.

I am always trying to be a “better” person. This means I am always running up against areas where I feel I don’t measure up. Times when I feel that I have shown up short of my potential, when I could have said something better, done something better, behaved better overall. Spaces where I could have displayed more love, acted more kindly, been more patient.

Not sure whether it’s the days being so damn short, or my schedule being so damn full, but December has been a complete blur – much more than normal. Birthday, come and gone. Christmas, said and done. New Year, no thanks!

Just like we all instinctively know what we need to do to take care of ourselves on our yoga mats, maybe push ourselves a little harder one day or take it a little easier on ourselves another day, I knew I needed to really dig-in to my mom’s home cooking this holiday.

We cannot be kind to ourselves, love ourselves, unless we know ourselves.

Every time we come to our mats, we become students. In the stillness of breath and movement, we can’t help but listen and discover something, and we certainly can’t argue with the new awareness and clearer perspective that come from getting quiet with ourselves.

At 35 years old, I think I finally get that I don’t need to get anywhere. Maybe it sounds aim-less on the surface, but really it’s not. Maybe it sounds motivation-less, but quite the contrary. The realization that life is … that I am … that we all are … and that that’s enough … is steeped in the powerful purpose to be engaged in process.

It recently occurred to me that I do not write nearly enough actual Thank You cards. I disappoint myself because I really was raised to do this properly by both my Mom and Nana. Otherwise, how will people ever know how much you appreciate them for who they are and for what they do? It is, of course, a different era … busier schedules, constant and instant cyber communication. So having time to take pen to paper is actually much more limited … blah, blah, blah … excuses.

Time is such an overwhelming thing for me. Every day, I hear myself say out loud (at least once, if not more) “I don’t have enough time.”

The concept of doing something for someone else has been front and center for me all my life. A calling to give, both in substantive and soulful ways, was pretty much written in the script. So let me set the stage…

Being a writer, I’m intensely interested in utilizing words. I don’t just throw nouns, verbs and adjectives around willy nilly – whether drafting a press release, crafting an article or (somewhat self-consciously) composing my first blog post.