March 6, 2022

Sunday morning beach breathwork with donations going towards, helping children affected by war in Ukraine.



Hips, back, feet

Sink into the sand

Your palms lay upright

As the ground kisses your hands

Your eyelids grow heavy

And your mind lets go 

As you feel a small little bird

Rest on your elbow

She climbs up to your shoulder

And softly whispers in your ear

“Let’s go on a small journey

I’ll stay with you, right here”

Just then colors begin to soften

And from light to dark the sky turns

The little bird chirps again in your ear

Saying “You can call me Nightbirde”

I am able to see lightness

And I am able to seek dark

And aboard my wings

It’s tough to tell them apart

So you climb on her wings

And through the night sky you soar

Until you reach a far away country

One you have longed to explore

You hover over a city

That explodes with flames

An early missile has striked

Upon the capital of Ukraine

Even from here you can feel

The fear harbored beneath

As a city called Kyiv struggles 

Without electricity, water or heat

How could this happen you ask

To Nightbirde, your trusty ride

She dips closer to the ground

As you slowly start to glide

“It’s saddening to see it” she says

“Just like generations before

Times of great fear and strife

The devastating effects of war”

You fly over other countries

Italy, Africa and Spain

You see struggles that are different

But emotions that are the same

As you fly from country to country

You also notice there’s laughter and smiles

A sense of joy that extends

Across miles and miles

“How could they?” you ask

“When there is so much dark”

“Well that’s the thing,” Nightbirds says

“That’s where the light starts”

“It starts with a love

For life’s little things

For the free gifts we’re granted

And the joy that they bring”

You now notice small lights shining

Through hundreds of windows

Donations, texts and emails sent

And the light starts to grow

“It’s what you do with this light that matters

For it’s what you do with the dark and pain

One cannot exist without the other

A yin to ones yang”

She returns you to this beach

The bright light has now returned

“I have one last little reminder

Before I go,” says Nightbirde

“We are breaking records

Every second we survive

How rare a miracle it is

To even be alive.”