Me and Mine

Forty something. Life partner, mom of three awesome kids (kids? They're all in their 20s now) and four furry children. Bi, feminist, pagan, yoga instructor. Friend, sister, cousin, lover. I am me, and that is all I can be. I strive to be the best I can every day.

[bipaganyogabish]

One of the most damaging things hustle culture ever accomplished was convincing people that exhaustion is a virtue.

Not a warning sign.

A virtue.

People brag about burnout.

Celebrate overwork.

Wear depletion like a badge of honor.

Then wonder why they feel disconnected from themselves.

This week's HeartFire theme is challenging that narrative.

Rest is not a reward.

Rest is part of being human.

[bipaganyogabish]

Namaste, Witchlings.

Welcome to a brand-new week and a brand-new Sanskrit word.

This week's word is Santosha.

Often translated as contentment, happiness, satisfaction, or joy, Santosha is one of the Niyamas, the personal observances found within the Yoga Sutras.

But if you've spent any time with me, you know we're rarely interested in dictionary definitions.

We're interested in what these concepts look like in real life.

This week, we're exploring joy.

Not forced positivity.

Not pretending everything is fine.

Real joy.

The kind that exists alongside grief.

Alongside challenges.

Alongside responsibility.

The kind that reminds us life is still worth loving even when it isn't perfect.

We'll be talking about happiness, authenticity, resilience, small pleasures, and why protecting joy may be one of the most sacred acts available to us.

So grab your favorite beverage, settle in, and join me this week as we explore Santosha.

I have a feeling this one is going to touch a lot of hearts.

Namaste, Witchlings.

[bipaganyogabish]

Blessed Pride: Authenticity Is Sacred

Happy Pride Month, Witchlings. 🏳️‍🌈

June has arrived, bringing with it the vibrant colors, fierce courage, joyful celebration, and hard-won history of Pride Month. For many people, Pride is a celebration. For others, it is a protest. For me, it is both. It is deeply personal, deeply spiritual, and deeply rooted in the values that guide my life.

As many of you know, I wear many hats. I am a Navy veteran. I am a yoga teacher. I am an ordained minister. I am a practicing witch who has been walking this path for three decades. I am a wife, a business owner, and a community advocate. But the role that has shaped me most is being a mom.

I am the proud mother of three amazing young adults, one of whom identifies as non-binary. Over the years, our family has also become a safe harbor for many others who needed a place where they could simply be themselves. Some stayed for a season. Some became family forever. Our home has always been built on a simple foundation: everyone deserves to be loved, respected, and accepted exactly as they are.

As a witch, I have never understood the idea that there is only one right way to exist. Nature itself teaches us otherwise. The moon moves through many phases. The seasons shift and change. No two trees grow alike. No two flowers bloom in exactly the same way. Diversity is woven into the fabric of creation. Why should humanity be any different?

As a yoga teacher, I often talk about living authentically. Yoga is not about becoming someone else. It is about becoming more fully yourself. It is about removing the layers of fear, expectation, and conditioning that keep us from living honestly. Pride, to me, embodies that same truth. It is the courage to stand in your authenticity and declare that your existence is worthy, valuable, and sacred.

As a veteran, I believe that freedom should belong to everyone. My oath was to defend the principles of liberty and equality. Those values did not stop mattering when I left the military. If anything, they matter now more than ever. When members of the LGBTQIA+ community face discrimination, exclusion, violence, or attempts to erase their identities, that is not simply a political issue to me. It is a human issue.

Pride began as resistance. It began because people refused to accept that they should live in fear or shame. That history matters. The rights many enjoy today were won because brave people stood up and demanded to be treated with dignity. We honor that legacy by continuing to protect one another, support one another, and speak up when others are being harmed.

This month, I invite all of us to reflect on what authenticity means in our own lives. Where are we shrinking ourselves to make others comfortable? Where are we hiding pieces of who we are? What might become possible if we gave ourselves permission to show up more fully as ourselves?

To every member of the LGBTQIA+ community reading this: you are loved. You are valued. You are needed. Your existence is not a problem to be solved. Your identity is not a debate. You are a beautiful expression of the sacred diversity of life itself.

To allies: thank you for showing up. Continue listening. Continue learning. Continue speaking up when it matters. Allyship is not a label. It is a practice.

And to everyone in this community, whether you've been here for years or just found your way here recently, know that you are welcome in this space. You belong here.

Throughout Pride Month, our livestreams, classes, and guided meditations will continue to center themes of self-love, courage, authenticity, and belonging. Together, we will create space for healing, celebration, and connection.

Because the truth is simple:

You deserve to be exactly who you are.

And that, my friends, is sacred.

Blessed Pride, Witchlings.

With love,

Di the Yoga Witch

🏳️‍🌈 Spread love. Spread joy. Spread kindness. Remember: you are loved, you are wanted, you are needed, and you have a purpose.

[bipaganyogabish]

You are allowed to stop proving your worth through exhaustion.

And honestly? I think many people have spent so long surviving inside systems that reward depletion that they no longer recognize how deeply abnormal constant burnout actually is.

People normalize: chronic stress, constant urgency, overcommitment, hypervigilance, emotional exhaustion, and functioning while completely disconnected from their own capacity.

Until eventually exhaustion becomes identity instead of information.

But human beings were never meant to earn love, safety, belonging, or worth through self-destruction.You deserve softness before collapse. You deserve rest before burnout. You deserve a life that does not require you to disappear in order to maintain it.

[bipaganyogabish]

You are allowed to stop carrying identities, obligations, relationships, expectations, and survival strategies that only continue functioning through your exhaustion.

And honestly? I think many people have spent so long in survival mode that they no longer recognize how much of their life is being sustained through self-abandonment.

People normalize: constant overextension, constant emotional labor, constant hypervigilance, constant depletion.

Until eventually the nervous system stops asking gently and starts screaming.

But human beings were never meant to survive exclusively through self-erasure.

At some point, sustainability has to matter too.

At some point, people deserve lives that do not require them to disappear in order to maintain them.

[bipaganyogabish]

There’s a quiet part of growth that doesn’t get talked about much.

The part where nothing feels dramatic. Nothing feels new. Nothing feels like a breakthrough.

But something is… steadying.

This week is about that space.

Sevā isn’t about doing more. It’s about tending what’s already alive in your life— your relationships, your habits, your healing, your energy.

You don’t need to reinvent anything right now.

You need to stay.

[bipaganyogabish]

Staying Is the Work

There’s a point in growth that doesn’t feel like growth at all.

It doesn’t feel exciting. It doesn’t feel expansive. It doesn’t feel like anything is really happening.

And that’s usually where people leave.

Not because they’re doing it wrong— but because they’ve reached the part that doesn’t reward you immediately.

The part where things aren’t new anymore.

This week, we’re working with Sevā—devotional care.

And what that looks like, in real life, is staying.

Staying with the habit that isn’t fully formed yet. Staying with the boundary that still feels uncomfortable. Staying with the version of yourself that is trying—quietly—to exist differently.

There’s always a pull to move on.

To start over. To try something else. To convince yourself that maybe this isn’t working fast enough.

But what if it is working?

What if the only thing it needs… is time? Is consistency? Is your presence?

Sevā asks you to care for what’s already alive in your life.

Not perfectly. Not constantly.

But intentionally.

And that kind of care doesn’t look dramatic.

It looks like: showing up again choosing it again noticing it again

Even when it’s quiet. Even when it’s slow. Even when no one else can see it.

This is the part where things take root.

Not when they begin— but when you stay long enough for them to become something real.

[bipaganyogabish]

“Service” gets romanticized in a way that leads straight to burnout.

Seva isn’t that.

It’s relational. It’s intentional. It includes you.

That’s what I’m working with this week.

[bipaganyogabish]

Guided Journaling Prompts Week 4 April 2026

What does “enough” mean beyond surface definitions?

Where have I tied worth to doing more?

What would it feel like to arrive, even briefly?

What am I still chasing—and why?

What is already present that I’m overlooking?

[bipaganyogabish]

I think one of the hardest things I’m learning right now is that “enough” doesn’t feel like a finish line

It feels like… stopping before I’m used to

And my brain immediately goes “you could do more”

And maybe I could

But I’m starting to question whether I should

Wrote more about it because I needed to get it out of my head 💛

[bipaganyogabish]

There’s something deeply ingrained in so many of us that says we have to handle everything ourselves.

But today I’m noticing how much actually shifts when I allow connection.

When I stop isolating. When I let support exist.

It’s not weakness.

It’s how things grow.

[bipaganyogabish]

There’s something quietly radical about choosing to notice instead of immediately trying to fix.

Today, I’m paying attention to where I push, rush, and override—without trying to change it yet.

Because growth doesn’t begin with action.

It begins with awareness.

[bipaganyogabish]

Today isn’t about fixing the whole pattern.

It’s about catching one moment.

That split second where you start to push, rush, or override—and choosing something different.

Even once.

That’s where change begins.

[bipaganyogabish]

there’s this weird pressure to do something the second you realize something

like awareness automatically means action

but I’m starting to think that’s where we mess it up

because the first moment of awareness isn’t the full picture

it’s just the beginning

and if you rush it you’re reacting to something you don’t fully understand yet

so I’m trying to sit with it longer

letting it be incomplete letting it be a little uncomfortableand trusting that clarity will come if I don’t force it

[bipaganyogabish]

HeartFire on the mat

There’s something interesting about the way a yoga mat changes the atmosphere of a room.

It creates a small pocket of intentional space.

The moment you sit down, the pace of everything slows slightly. Your breathing becomes more noticeable. Your thoughts settle into a different rhythm.

Over time, that space becomes familiar.

It becomes a place where reflection and resilience grow quietly.

[bipaganyogabish]

Guided Journal Prompts for Week 3 March 2026

What life experiences taught you endurance?

What traditions from your past still hold meaning today?

When have you found strength in unexpected places?

What beliefs guide you through difficult choices?

What practices help you reconnect with yourself?

[bipaganyogabish]

Guided Journaling Prompts for Week 3 February 2026

What does longing feel like in my bones?

When did I first learn that love could disappear?

What version of me believes this attachment is survival?

If love were abundant, how would I move differently?

What part of me is ready to outgrow this pattern?