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Hope Lives Within Me

Mandy Ingber by Mandy Ingber | May 7th, 2012 | 3 Comments
topic: Celebrity Workouts, Fitness, Personal Growth, Yoga | tags: celebrity yoga instructor, emptiness, Gaiam Hope Project, grief, healing, HOPE, hurt, Jennifer Aniston workout, loss, mandy ingber, meditation, pain, poem, poetry, prana, recovery, yoga teacher

Hopes Lives In Me

Hope.

Sometimes I sit. I sit through the storm and I shake and I wonder if the

Winds will blow me away. I wonder if I can endure the violence, the rage,

The anger. I forget what it was like to feel safe and be at peace, to live in

Lost Hope? 4 Steps to Turn Up Your “Hope Factor”

Amy Ippoliti by Amy Ippoliti | April 19th, 2012 | No Comments
topic: Personal Growth, Relationships | tags: death, dream, emotions, empower, feelings, grieve, HOPE, hopeless, hurt, loss, personal development, Personal Growth, pursuing dreams, Relationships

Lost Hope

To live and love is to risk getting hurt, to lose those we love, to be betrayed or victimized, and to lose hope.

But hope is most palpable when you have lost it.

Everyone experiences a period of feeling hopeless at some point in their life. For some, these feelings may last only a moment; for others, they may last for years. We can lose hope in ourselves, our community, humanity, the prospect of finding love and more.

Have you been there? Here are four steps to help you reclaim hope.

The Case for Crying Out Loud

Suzanne Clores by Suzanne Clores | November 4th, 2010 | 11 Comments
topic: Personal Growth | tags: acceptance, awareness, Buddhist philosophy, calm, control, crying in public, embarassment, emotions, healing, hurt, laughter, Osho, pain, saddness, social stigma, stress, tears, vulnerability, vulnerable, weakness

Woman crying

The other night, I fell down the stairs. Not the whole flight, but the last four gray-slate stairs in the main lobby of the athletic club where I teach yoga. I was fully dressed and in view of at least three people when I tripped over my own boots, breaking my fall with my shins and hands. After the stars stopped swirling and the pain kicked in, I stood up, put on a brave smile and told the wincing front desk staff that I’d be okay. Then I limped out into the dark and, when it felt safe, I started to cry.