The woman looked deeply into her eyes, gently holding her hands, and said , “This is not your fault. It is not your fault. I’m so sorry they couldn't see you, that they stole your joy.”

Today it was heavy and thick, rolling slowly over everything, like an indifferent steamroller only concerned with smashing things flat.

My heart sent cascades of tingles through my body, little messages informing me I had fallen in love with the clarity, surrender, honesty, and intensity of this embodied practice.

She tried to squint her eyes open, but the dizzying fog slammed through the tiny crack, leaving her unconscious on the forest floor.

Often, we approach these uninvited guests with eviction notices - wanting to get rid of, to fix, to excise them as fast as possible in order to get on with our lives. But what if these visitors arise as opportunities to move more fully into alignment with who we are and what we are here to do?