beautiful yoga


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“Franz Kafka is Dead 

He died in a tree from which he wouldn’t come down. “Come down!” they cried to him. “Come down! Come down!” Silence filled the night, and the night filled the silence, while they waited for Kafka to speak. “I can’t,” he finally said, with a note of wistfulness. “Why?” they cried. Stars spilled across the black sky. “Because then you’ll stop asking for me.””
Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

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Lately, something reoccurring has been coming up for me. It’s the beauty of life, but more importantly, the beauty of how people choose to embrace it.

There is a certain breed of woman that has been capturing my attention, so today, I’m turning my love and attention to wild women.

She’s beautiful, passionate and damn sexy. She’s the girl wearing a flower crown, running on the beach with wild horses and laughing at life – with her head tilted back, looking skyward.

She has fresh flowers in her room, wears kaftans and walks around naked at home. She swims in the ocean and dances in her room to tunes that ignite her soul.

She takes her time. She takes life in, all of it; the peace and the turmoil. She allows it to be there, introduces herself polity to it and makes it her friend.

She understands when the sun rises, so does new possibility and she looks at the day she is presented with, through curious eyes and an open heart.

She is gentle, loving and compassionate. But she is also strong, independent and owns her power.

She eats fruit from the tree, then sits under it and enjoys the view. She eats watermelon face first, uses pineapples as decoration and eats mango in her knickers, licking the drips of juice running down her arm.

She lies on blankets and star gazes, which makes her remember how small she is, but also how big her impact on the world can be.

Her smile is love infused and it’s infectious.

She dances on tables, takes off her heels when they hurt, and wears something fabulous at home, where no one else sees her – just because she can.

Life gives her Goosebumps.

She sings, loudly. She picks flowers. She takes herself on dates. She isn’t afraid to trip and fall, because getting up all muddy is the fun part.

She loves outdoor showers.

She swims at midnight and howls at the full moon.

She reads, because education and knowledge is powerful and beautiful.

She lets her bare feet touch Mother Nature daily, in fact, she demands it; green grass, white sand or red soil. All are her healers.

She cares about stuff that matters and she has an opinion. She thinks in colour and talks in sparkles. She knows the more she expresses gratitude, the more blessings she receives, because she takes the time to actually see them.

She’s creative. Interested and interesting. Inspired and inspiring.

She loves Vogue and National Geographic, because both make the world a better place.

She lays in hammocks, wears hats and her best hair accessory is the wind.

She is nomadic, spirited, bohemian and connected.

She loves late night adventures, bright colours and being wrapped up in a beach towel.

Her hands are in the air, every day; taking in this mad mess she calls life. The good, the bad, the easy, the hard, the ups and the downs.

And every moment in between.

Everything is an experience, a lesson – the world is her classroom and she learns every day.

We’ve all got a bit of wild woman in us – so here’s to you. And to bare feet. And the green grass we walk this journey on.

Here’s to being raw and real and vulnerable. Here’s to having permission to be soft and feminine and loud and hilarious.

Here’s to embracing today through the eyes and the soul, of a wild woman.

Penelope younger

Filed under women life wildwomen love yoga gratitude creativity art photography writing create becreative beautiful ocean sea earth

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You can connect from all kinds of places- energetic harmony, sexual alchemy, intellectual alignment- but they won’t sustain love over a lifetime. You need a thread that goes deeper, that moves below and beyond the shifting sands of compatibility. That thread is fascination- a genuine fascination with someone’s inner world, with the way they organize reality, with the way they hearticulate their feelings, with the unfathomable and bottomless depths of their being. To hear their soul cry out to you again and again, and to never lose interest in what it is trying to convey. If there is that, then there will still be love when the body sickens, when the sexuality quiets, when the perfection projection is long shattered. If there is that, you will swim in love’s waters until the very last breath.

Filed under yoga love quotes