My Belief-- It Really Is All About Love

artwork source: Anon

Take what you practice on the mat, off the mat and into your life.
Deep breaths, long limbs, lifted crowns, rooted stances that steady your days.
Take your long spine and empowered core with you as you travel.
Sink deep into the Earth when you feel untethered.
Lift your crown to the heavens affirming the connection to all that is,
Take your strength and flexibility into the heat of any given day.
Let your vibrancy be contagious, shining it when humanity is feeling dull.
Lead with your open heart.
Let your love spill out into— and heal— this imperfect world.
And please remember for the day ahead of you—
It really is all about love. 

Tricia Schwaba 10/2023

You Can't Burn History in a Fire Pit

You can’t burn history in a fire pit (you fucking idiots). History stands firm and undeniable even if you attempt to burn it page by page. Despicable behavior cannot be swept under the rug to assuage the frail egos of weak men. It has become the foundation they stand on whether they like it or not. How naive is the attempt to incinerate ugly behaviors of the past? They sit undeniably, on the faces of the culprits and their followers and worse for all of them— in their hearts.


Core= Heart= Essence= Truth

Spontaneous Contemplation

There are moments when life scares the shit out of me and there are moments when I fall to my knees in gratitude for the beauty that graces my life.

My guess? That’s not going to end. The “life scaring the shit out of me” piece will continue, maybe in different contexts as I move forward. I”m guessing that fear will live on until I return to whence I came and hopefully I can find out the scoop, if that’s what you do when you leave… who knows?

The way I see it, no one knows except those who have, literally, died then come back to life. Them? I trust. The others who claim to have the ear of God so “Please send me your money”— those guys? I don’t trust. How long have they been scamming people? Since the onset of time it seems. But the wise amongst us, who trust inner guidance rather than an outside source with selfish intentions, know that no one knows. We won’t know until we’re gone— for good. And maybe not even then. Maybe we’re never gone for good :O Again no one can tell us and I run from those who try.

Until my time comes I’ll hope for the best, keep the candle lit and be prepared when the shit comes flying. ‘Cause it will. You know it will. And that’s okay.

Have a good one and set an example—
Be good to yourself.

Time Is of the Essence-- Poetry by Tricia

art source— anon

Time is of the essence, what does that mean? 

Does it mean I’m running late? Need a change of scene?

Life whirled around me in my much younger years

Distracting me with chaos, calling in my fears.

In this present moment I feel free of the denial

That led me to nothing but shit stacked in a pile

True, time is of the essence but so is gratitude

Each day expressed, it shifts collective attitudes. 

Our essence is a jewel mined from deep within

Clear of ancestral patterns, it can tell us how it is

Crack the stubborn shell stretching limbs to divine 

We emerge from the dark of a weary, tired mind. 

Tricia Schwaba, from the archives

Jacques Lusseyran on Light

“Light cast a spell over me. I saw it everywhere I went and watched it by the hour… flowing over the surface of the houses in front of me and through the tunnel of the street to right and left. This light was not like the flow of water, but something more fleeting and numberless, for its source was everywhere. I liked seeing that the light came from nowhere in particular, but was an element just like air. We never ask ourselves where air comes from, for it is there and we are alive. With the sun it is the same thing.

There was no use my seeing the sun high up in the sky in its place in space at noon, since I was always searching for it elsewhere. I looked for it in the flickering of its beams, in the echo which, as a rule, we attribute only to sound, but which belongs to light in the same measure. Radiance multiplied, reflected itself from one window to the next, from a fragment of wall to cloud above. It entered into me, became part of me. I was eating sun.”