,​Hi Friends,

It's day 6 of my quarantine after testing positive for Covid. Ugh. 

After I got over the fever, chills and body aches on the first day, I have been battling allergy-like symptoms that are kicking my butt. Tired is an understatement. 

Today was the first day I actually opened the windows and got out of bed. I was starting to feel like Grandpa Joe from Willy Wonka!

I decided to create this mood board (above) to boost my spirits since I literally haven't left my house for almost a week. Even though the past couple of days has been gloomy, I am looking ahead to the brighter future of leading retreats again, traveling and being Covid-free and healthy. 

I only have 3 more rooms left for my Paso Robles retreat in March and the early bird registration for my retreat in Mallorca, Spain ends on February 1st! If you have the itch to get out of your home, see the world, practice yoga, and build lasting memories with me, register HERE.  

Until then, stay safe and healthy.
​
With Love, 
Lauren

Imagine...  I was 9 months old and my brother was nearly 2 years old when my dad quit his job without having anything else lined up.

Of course, my mom freaked out, but I think my dad knew deep down that he just had to make it work.

No matter what, he found a way to adapt and continue moving forward. He tried being a locksmith, doing carpet cleaning, delivering food for vending machines, selling mattresses, and eventually started his own business selling blinds and window coverings.

To me, that is resiliency and growing up I have been lucky enough to witness it firsthand. It inspired me to pursue my passions and goals unapologetically. And, if you ever met my father you could easily pick up that I am his daughter.

​However, the last 10 months has really challenged my ego. I was forced to confront my attachment to the path I laid out for myself 8 years ago when I quit my steady job to pursue teaching yoga.

I don't know what lies ahead, but just like my father did when met with deep uncertainty, I know I am equipped with everything I need to dig deep and be the most resilient version of myself.

​This is one of the many reasons why I co-created The Resilient You Workshop with my friend and mindfulness teacher Orlee Klempner. You are not alone. Whatever challenges, misfortunes, or change you are met with, let's work together to move through them with resiliency.

When I was a child I would have very bad stomach aches. So bad that I would be curled in a ball on the floor wincing and crying. It was inconsistent and hard to monitor when it would flare up. I saw specialists, did blood tests and exams, and tried various prescriptions. Nothing worked. I was frustrated, felt a lack of control, and as though my body was failing me. 

My mother used to say that I worried so much that I caused myself to have a stomach ache. Even though I eventually discovered that digesting meat didn't sit well with my stomach and changed my diet, I think she was partially right. From as far back as I could remember I always put so much pressure on myself; a pressure to perform well in school, in sports, and in all aspects of my life. For me the concept of failure was never an option. So naturally, I put the weight of the world on my shoulders. And even though I no longer struggle with the same stomach issues, I still experience the lingering effects of anxiety. 

In a year with so much loss, it is overwhelming to say the least. I am well aware that there are many things out of my control such as the global pandemic, the state of our country, racial inequality, the future of my work, and the health of my loved ones, even still, I feel it all. I feel it in every facet of my body to the point where I lack sleep, feel tense and anxious. 

A couple of weeks ago I eventually broke down and told my husband, "I am failing." Through tears and frustration I felt as though I was losing control. But as I sat with what I had just said out loud, I realized that everything I was worrying about was completely out of my control. I can't control the outcome of the election, I can't control the hate I see, I can't control what other people say or do, I can't control the economy and the future of my work, I can't control the global pandemic, I can't control the health of my loved ones. 

However, I can control how I respond to whatever is in front of me, making my voice heard through casting my vote, standing up for what I believe in, being compassionate towards myself and others, putting my health and wellbeing first, setting boundaries, and how I continue to move forward. 

I know I am not alone in experiencing feelings such as stress, anxiety, fear and sadness which are often associated with the idea of failure. I also know that I am not alone in experiencing feelings of hope, love, joy, and abundance which are often associated with the idea of success. We all experience these feelings and yet it doesn't automatically mean we are one or the other. Unfortunately, how our society defines the idea of failure comes from a place of fear and leaves very little room for the idea of success. It is everywhere. We see it in the news, in advertising, and on social media. We see hate and violence in the news, we buy insurance fearing that we may loose our belongings or material worth, and we check our social media from a fear of missing out. Yes, we should stay informed but there is a fine line between getting information and overwhelming ourselves with fear of things we have absolutely no control over.

I have come to find that if we attach our self-worth to the idea of success, the moment we are confronted with anything less we will automatically label ourselves as failures - a vicious cycle that is not productive or healthy for anyone. 

So what can we do?

How about we redefine the idea of success from a place of love and compassion, knowing the path isn't always clear, linear, or final? How about we focus on what we can control? How about we take everything one step at a time? How about we acknowledge the small successes that are part of the bigger ones? 

My husband and I will be celebrating our 1 year wedding anniversary this Friday and had originally planned to visit Big Sur and Carmel.

We planned to stay in a treehouse in the woods and enjoy a quiet weekend with just us and our dog, Ziggy. We planned to explore new hiking trails, gaze at views of the clear night sky, and enjoy our time away from the city. This at least was our original plan, but due to the recent fires in Northern California those plans have changed. Instead, we will spend the weekend in San Marcos and postpone our trip until later in the year.

Even though our anniversary celebration won't look quite like we planned, it will be just as special because we have each other.  I know it sounds cheesy, but considering all hurdles this year has brought, that's really all I can ask for. All I can say is, I am incredibly grateful. ​

I have been struggling to come up with the words to express my anger, frustration, and sadness in response to ongoing and more recent injustices and violence against my black brothers and sisters. Although I know I only have control over how I choose to respond, I can’t help but wonder when will we learn? I don’t just mean us as a country, I mean us as a human race. It’s a never-ending cycle.
 
As a woman of color from Japanese American descent, sure I have encountered my fair share of racism. Growing up, kids made fun of my eyes and asked, “How can you see?” I have been called derogatory terms such as “Chink” and “Jap.” Men have assumed I am submissive and won’t speak up for myself. I am not Japanese enough because I don’t speak Japanese, but I am also not white enough because I look Asian. And even though I was born in America, people always assume I am foreign because of the way I look. I remember telling my mother when I was younger that I wished I was white because I would fit in and be “beautiful” after a white boy told me I was pretty for being Asian (whatever that means).  
 
Yet, even as a person of color, I acknowledge that I have privilege. I grew up in a middle-class family with parents who are married going on 31 years. I never had to worry about getting a job to financially support my family and was able to get a private college education. Most importantly, I never had to fear for my life because of the color of my skin.
 
Our world is sick and has been way before the COVID-19 pandemic. Institutionalized racism has even pinned minority groups against one another. Many of my ancestors fed into the idea that Asians are the so-called “Model Minority,” and that has created a divide: the narrative of, “we are not ‘them’ and therefore it is not my problem” has gone on far too long.
 
I am not telling you about my experiences because I am trying to equate my encounters with racism to those of African Americans. I am sharing my stories because that is what I know, and if I know and experienced racism, chances are you, your neighbors, family, friends, co-workers, and loved ones have as well. That is not okay and should not be normalized. Racism is not dead. It never died. It just evolved and mutated.
 
This disease of institutionalized racism and implicit bias is wide-spread and so deeply rooted that many of us are completely unaware of it or have become de-sensitized to it. Yet, underneath the surface, there is so much pain that festers among those who are oppressed, threatened, and left behind. So, what happens? We see the fight or flight response in action, which is the natural physiological reaction that occurs in response to a perceived event, attack, or threat in order to survive.  
 
From the moment we are born we are like sponges soaking in what we hear, see, and how others act around us. We then take all that information and put it into action in order to survive. The challenge is, once we develop habits, opinions, and behaviors, it is really hard to change them. But the only way to see change is to be change. This requires us to sit with what makes us uncomfortable, listen with the intent to understand, acknowledge our wrongdoings, and do something about it.
 
It’s so easy to look at ourselves and ask, “What can I do? I am just a small fish in a vast ocean and there are bigger fish that have more power than me.” I know I have been guilty of that too. But that way of thinking is small and brings us right back to where we started. I can look at myself and say, “I am just a yoga teacher, what can I do to affect change?” Or, I can say, “I am a yoga teacher who educates the importance of living your yoga not just practicing it.” This means, I have an opportunity to teach myself and others the value in using the yoga practice as a means to start the conversation with ourselves. I don’t mean spiritual bypassing. I mean really sitting with our own attachments, aversions, triggers, judgments, and biases. I mean taking ownership of what we can do as individuals to do better and be better. Not just for ourselves, but for everyone. Especially those in our community, nation and world who need it most. Because if one person gets left behind, it affects everyone. We may not see it at first, but eventually it all bubbles to the surface like it is now.
 
So, I challenge myself and you to take action. Sending love and prayers is not enough. Yes call, text, petition, and vote. But also remember that if actions do not carry beyond that then we are simply scratching the surface. Let’s have those difficult conversations with ourselves, our family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and those we disagree with. We don’t all have to agree, but we must acknowledge, listen, respect, stand up for, and see one another.
 
Yes, I am a teacher, but you are too. You are both the teacher and student of your life with the opportunity to observe, learn, grow, communicate, and change. Let’s not throw that gift away. And if you forgot or lost sight of that, let’s start now.

Dear Friends, 
​
Like most of you I am going into week three of quarantine; something I never thought I would say. However, here we are. One day I feel optimistic and productive, other days I feel sluggish and depressed. In just a matter of three weeks I have gone through an emotional roller coaster and a complete lifestyle change, which is quite exhausting.

In my last blog post just two days into quarantine I said, “Remember, whatever you are feeling during this time is valid.” Every day since then, I have had to remind myself of that. It’s so easy to disregard your feelings, and I know I have gone through moments where I questioned the validity of them… Especially knowing other people in this world are going through so much worse.

In just three short weeks my income is nearly obsolete, and I will most likely need to file for unemployment and apply for a small business loan. This has brought up feelings of shame and negative self-talk. Yet, deep down I know that this is temporary, I am not defined by my circumstances and I am strong and resilient enough to respond mindfully to these conditions. I think deep down inside we all know that, no matter what we are going through during this time. Yes, we can feel what we feel and think what we think, but at a certain point we must pick ourselves up and keep on going.

More and more we are seeing the silver lining in all of this. Our world is cleaning itself from the clear canals of Venice to the improved air quality in Los Angeles. We are also working together to flatten the curve and keep each other safe and healthy. In my life the silver lining has been spending quality time with my family, connecting with friends, and still getting to do what I love. My husband and I are currently living with my parents, so we prepare dinner, watch TV, do puzzles, play board games, and are in the process of creating an herb garden. Since my schedule has slowed down, I have had the opportunity to connect with family members and even held virtual Happy Hours with friends. And, the most important thing is that we have a roof over our heads, enough food and water to sustain us, and we are all safe and healthy. 

I still get to do what I love and am currently teaching meditation every weekday morning at 10:00 AM on Instagram live, recording guided meditation and filming online classes for my subscription, and will be teaching live classes on Zoom and Instagram. I am here to support you during this time and will keep you posted on future offerings. In the meantime, I hope that you and your loved ones remain healthy and safe.
​
Love, 
Lauren