Breathe

“Take a deep breath in – now let it all out” – I hear this phrase repeated over and over in my mind. In yoga, breath is the epicenter of the practice.

The movement, the flow, the stillness – it is all guided by breath. This cue, coming from the teacher, is repeated throughout the class.

There is something about the connection to your own breath that stills the mind and forces everything else out. There is no space to think about projects, deadlines or to-do lists. Focusing on the present moment pushes out the noise, the chatter and the worry.

And then life resumes.

I had to learn how to put the infrastructure in place for my book. Now that I’ve done that, I still feel as though there’s more I can do. I’m pushing when I need to be letting go. Even with so many years practicing yoga, lately, I’ve found myself needing to go back to the meaning of what I wrote about in The Little Seed’s Long Wait.

Not because nothing is happening, but because letting go and trusting is not easy to do.

I imagine little seed was experiencing all types of noise while he was waiting on what he wanted most. To go Up Above. At first, he didn’t have the tools to help him slow down but once he let go, everything changed.

Much like in yoga, in life, trusting yourself is at the center of forward movement. Letting go is a lot more difficult than holding on.

Today, I’m grabbing my mat and going to breathe.

 — Mari

Everyone Does Hard Things

There's a particular kind of comment that stays with you. Not because it was meant to hurt, but because it makes you stop and think. This is about one of those comments, and what I've come to believe because of it.

Since I published my children's picture book, I've received so many accolades from people, wishing me success, amazed and inspired, excited and envious.

Those reactions all mean the world to me. They do!

But there's one that I circle back to time and again.

Someone said to me, "No offense, but everyone writes a book nowadays."

It landed hard.

And honestly? They're not wrong that more people have access to publishing tools than ever before.

But I'd say the same is true for a lot of things.

Casually speaking, everyone runs a marathon, everyone starts a business, everyone learns a new skill at 50, everyone pivots careers and starts over.

Everyone does hard things and that's what's made this journey beautiful.

It's made it feel less lonely, more meaningful, and absolutely worth doing.

Writing The Little Seed's Long Wait took years of self-doubt, rewrites, edits, and a whole lot of courage I had to dig deep to find.

So yes, I wrote a book. And I'm really glad I did.

— Mari

Why I Wrote The Little Seed’s Long Wait

The Little Seed's Long Wait is a children's picture book. But it didn't begin as one.

I never intended to write a children’s book. I just needed somewhere to put my feelings.

I was waiting for something I wanted more than anything in the world. And no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I longed for it, it simply wasn’t happening. So one day I sat down and put my feelings on paper.

I didn’t know I was writing my own story. I didn’t know I was little seed.

And then I read what I had written. And I knew. This wasn’t just for me. This was meant for more.

What kept me grounded through the waiting were the people I loved most. Without realizing it, I wrote them into the story. Each one became a character. Each one carried into the garden exactly what they had given me in real life.

And Rooty, wise, patient, ancient Rooty, that was my own inner voice. The part of me that already knew the truth, even when I refused to listen.

I wrote this book before my Up Above arrived. I wrote the ending I hadn’t lived yet. But somewhere deep inside, I had finally stopped forcing and started believing. Believing that my season would come.

It did.

And it was more beautiful than anything I had ever imagined.

If you are reading this and you are still waiting, still underground, still dreaming of your own Up Above, I wrote this for you. Your season is coming.

Patience is where the magic begins.

— Mari