Most of us know we should take time for ourselves. Doing it is the hard part — the week fills up, the mornings disappear, and "later" never quite comes.
I took some time on a recent drive, and the whole trip turned on it. Here's the story if you want a few minutes away from the noise today:
Taking time is a choice — not slowing down for its own sake, but deciding to give a little to what matters before the day takes it from you. That's the whole idea behind Friday morning.
THIS Friday, June 26, I'm holding an hour open for you.
Friday June 26, 6-7 am. A 30-minute gentle flow in my West Omaha backyard, then craft americanos and conversation on the patio. Our topic: morning routines — the ones we actually have. An hour that’s yours before the day starts. Small group; a few spots open.
We'll practice at 6am on the lawn near the fountain, then chat and drink americanos on the lower level patio by the berm. At 7am you'll head into the day unhurried, with all of it still ahead of you.
Float Into Centered Fall — Friday, September 18, 6:30pm. As summer turns to fall, take two hours to come back to your center. This is the fourth workshop in my seasonal series. We'll move through gentle aerial yoga, then climb into the hammocks for breathwork and a long, supported floating savasana, closing with a warm herbal tea ritual. It's a chance to find harmony between your own rhythm and the season's.
Quote I’m pondering . . .
In each newsletter I share a quote, reference or research — something that’s been shaping how I think and/or teach.
"Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it."
- Mary Oliver, from her poem "Sometimes"
These words . . . they're the whole Red Rocks trip. But they are also the yoga practice. Beyond that, they're the reason I teach. I went to yoga. I paid attention. I was astonished by what I discovered. And then I couldn't keep it to myself - I had to tell about it. I couldn't bear the thought of NOT sharing it. That's how I ended up in front of the room. Oliver's three instructions are, quite literally, how I became a yoga teacher.
This trip was that same instinct in a different shape. We took the long way to Red Rocks, paid attention to the rivers and the grass and the sky, got astonished more than once, and on the way home — well, I decided I'd tell about it.
Friday morning is a small chance to do the first one — pay attention, before the day gets loud. I hope to see you at sunrise.
Practical tools for finding balance in a full life. A weekly newsletter on breath, rest, movement, and attention. Real & direct, no fluff. One practice I'm teaching that week. One quote, reference, or piece of research that's shaping how I think. I run a private aerial yoga studio in West Omaha while working full-time in corporate. Both inform what I teach. Curated wellness events are offered in my boutique studio. My Website: www.jerilynfrisbie.com
