<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499</id><updated>2012-02-12T15:26:44.174-08:00</updated><category term='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IBAx9uroDU4/TufYkK3V6PI/AAAAAAAABpE/q9_z9g7WkYY/s1600/holly.jpg'/><title type='text'>Namaste Bitches</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-5253242358329047284</id><published>2011-12-13T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T15:35:59.601-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IBAx9uroDU4/TufYkK3V6PI/AAAAAAAABpE/q9_z9g7WkYY/s1600/holly.jpg'/><title type='text'>Dispatched by Victory</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Lxe0CLEFHI/TufXm5dFyeI/AAAAAAAABos/b_Y8jWYzdKw/s320/victory.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685750117836376546" /&gt;Friends, Romans, Countrymen, denizens of this Good Earth, citizens of humanity:&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please find me now at &lt;a href="http://hollyholylove.blogspot.com/"&gt;Holly Holy Love&lt;/a&gt; as I directed you before. My sincere apologies for all the waffling but the journey through the Labyrinth and the Looking Glass, as it were, is often riddled with confusion about who one truly is as well as more than a few distractions, delusions, contusions, and of course, the usual dangers, toils, and snares that are par for the course. The yogis have a mantra that is a quick fix for anyone trying to do the stupid thing of trying to make any sense about who one actually is. It goes: Sat Nam, which mostly means, " Truth is my identity." I've found that mantra solves a lot of existential "tussles with the wallpaper" to quote Nabokov, and other metaphysical monkey-mind meanderings that over-thinkers are prone to having, often in vain and ad naseum. The gospel equivalent to this I think is, " Be still and know that I am God." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alas, onward and upward. His Truth is marching on. I believe in miracles. I hope you do too. We sure could use one really big one on this upside down world on Fire and just in Time for Christmas. I capitalize Time because I have no sense of it. Now, I have been asking my Father in Heaven to grant us one--- that peace, health, light, love, charity, compassion, grace, mercy, and joy will prevail against the forces of evil. We are at war with God as a human race but I believe Victory has already been won at the Cross, though as someone who has never liked to be fenced in or labeled as this or that, God in his infinite mercy knows this about me and so, likely gave me the Universal languages of yoga, dance, and music (with as side of musical theater absurdity) with which to reach ye of little Faith and those who have beef with Jesus or just don't have a taste for the G word, in general. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In that case, I offer you this Universal Truth: We are One. Rinse, lather, repeat. Let the healing begin. Let the walls come down. Let freedom ring. Or as George Clinton said, " Free your mind, and your ass will follow." Here, here! We want the funk, don't we? I'm quite sure we do. Fa la la la la la la la la. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I shall endeavor to tell you in the coming days in the advent of Christmas about my walk with God which is a story like many who have gone before of salvation, redemption, transformation and amazing grace and as Paul sings, " hope of deliverance from the darkness that surrounds us." It is also the story of the unfolding, in real Time, of the impossible dream and a journey to the East on the Raja yoga path: the royal way. I do indeed have nobility coursing through my veins, though I am by no means a stuffy Queen-- rather just a Queen with a heart for the people. I promise I won't be a drag, Gaga.Thank you for the reminder, I suppose I did have that tendency, what with my nickname in college being " Old English" on account the apparent delight I took translating Beowulf. We've come a long way, baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I recently had dinner with a dear friend, Dr. Paul Rockey, who holds some fancy post at the American Medical Association. He told me that were I in England at the moment, they'd likely be grooming me to be the next Lady Diana. And while I appreciated the sentiment, I thought, no, no, thank you very little, that sounds dreadful and I am quite fine just as I am and God will move me on up in glory in His perfect Time. Nice n' easy does it every Time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been given what some may call an impossible dream to dream, but I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me and I have gotten by with more than a little help from my friends. And yes, high, though I don't touch the stuff anymore, I do think there is much to be said for the benefits of plant medicine on the healing journey. I have reason to believe and more than sufficient evidence for the tribunal that I'm something of a Cosmic Dancing Queen of the stone age carrying around some serious hope of deliverance and the cure for what ails us in this world gone asunder. What's more: the yogis are coming! The yogis are coming!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do wish this Christmas that people might experience God as a much more colorful, dancy character than just some big man upstairs--for while he/she is most certainly a God to be feared, he/she is also a God of surprises. As difficult as that is for many of us to welcome in such unbridled joy in these precarious Times, we must. And as my beloved sister in Faith, Megan Livingston says, " We have no idea how hilarious God's jokes are." I think it's important to remember that a divine comedy is always ready to reveal itself to us if we're open to the possibility, the mystery, the magic, and the never ending story . As the song goes, "The Holly and the Ivy, when they are both full grown, of all the Trees that are in the wood, the Holly bears the Crown." Well then. What dreams may come.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-koOAi_pYCec/TufXzs_46jI/AAAAAAAABo4/ffX4W10r6KM/s320/bridgette.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685750337830971954" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 320px; " /&gt;I've recently discovered on this epic quest for the holy grail in modern times that ABBA is my Father in Heaven. It is fitting then that I am also Swedish and love the band by the same name and have been known to have dance parties wearing tin foil.  Now, from where I'm perched, with my Father's eyes and sunshine as my quest, as grim as things look in many parts of the world, I have every Faith and confidence that the balance shall eventually be restored to this world, that we who are marching in the Light are on indeed on the precipice of ushering in a new culture of light, peace, harmony, health, and healing. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The solutions to our problems are all spiritual in nature and as we continue to resurrect the healing practices and arts of a simpler time, to open our hearts, purify our minds, bodies and spirits, we will see more people experiencing their own salvation and Divinity and being empowered by their own ability to heal from within and with the help of The Creator and Mother Earth. Now, if you don't believe in any God, well, it's not too late to surrender, to offer up your life to something greater than yourself, to let go and let God, to see for yourself that we're all just rainbows waiting to happen, really. And if that language is a little too gay and supernatural for your mind, we'll in that case I'd prescribe some mushroom tea and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory-- anything to help you suspend your disbelief. Imagination really does decide almost everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are One. And I'm pretty sure Jesus is in fact about to become a really big superstar. Again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From heavenly Harmony, this Universal Frame began.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thy Kingdom Come, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holly ( a.k.a. Queen of The Fairies)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the record, the moniker "Queen of the Fairies" was given to me or rather decoded for me by the brilliant girl wonder in the photos named Bridgette, whose mother Kimberly, my best friend and soul sister who I have known since I was 5 years old, is and forever will be, my Fortress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IBAx9uroDU4/TufYkK3V6PI/AAAAAAAABpE/q9_z9g7WkYY/s320/holly.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685751170481907954" style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-5253242358329047284?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/5253242358329047284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/12/dispatched-by-victory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/5253242358329047284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/5253242358329047284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/12/dispatched-by-victory.html' title='Dispatched by Victory'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Lxe0CLEFHI/TufXm5dFyeI/AAAAAAAABos/b_Y8jWYzdKw/s72-c/victory.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-1652557223866354519</id><published>2011-11-16T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T10:26:24.868-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendly Reminder</title><content type='html'>If you write for God you will reach many men and bring them joy. If you write for men-- you may make some money and you give someone a little joy and you may make a noise in the world, for a little while. If you write only for yourself you can read what you yourself have written and after ten minutes you will be so disgusted you will wish that you were dead. - &lt;em&gt;Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-1652557223866354519?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/1652557223866354519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/11/friendly-reminder.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/1652557223866354519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/1652557223866354519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/11/friendly-reminder.html' title='Friendly Reminder'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-7490466078029099930</id><published>2011-11-01T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T11:50:41.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Shining Skull</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sGxP-qYPOgQ/TrA7quSUSGI/AAAAAAAABn4/lnUwULaiqx4/s1600/skull.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670097536024856674" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sGxP-qYPOgQ/TrA7quSUSGI/AAAAAAAABn4/lnUwULaiqx4/s400/skull.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is All Saint's Day, one of my favorite days to go to church. Tonight there will be full choir and the music of Thomas Luis De Victoria, Bach, and Marcel Dupris at Saint Clement's in Philadelphia, which in my estimation is one of this city's most beautiful churches . My most beloved Saints who I'll be thinking about today are Saint Martin, Patron Saint of alcoholics ( always a good one to have around), Saint Cecelia, Patron Saint of Music, Saint Peter,Saint Paul, Saint Michael, and Saint Andrew. Ok, all of them, really, but the one's I've mentioned have been the heavy hitters in my life today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life: it is a beautiful thing to be bridging the divide between secular and non-secular worlds, between the real and the imagined Life, between East and West, black and white and all the colors of the rainbow. Now, I don't know that Rev. Gordon Reid at Saint Clement's would quite know what to make of a blog called &lt;em&gt;Namaste, Bitches.&lt;/em&gt; It would take some explaining and I'm not sure its worth his time. Silence is indeed golden. I'll keep that one on the DL for Rev. Reid. He is Welsh and sometimes I think he smells India on me and looks at me rather quizzically at times, unless of course I'm wearing tweed. Perhaps I'll ask him if he'd like to learn the "shining skull breath" one day. We'll see how that goes over. I shall report back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, since you're yogi readers, you know what this "shining skull" business is all about hows about aa quick review. The &lt;em&gt;kapala bhati&lt;/em&gt; breath is a way of breathing that the yogis came up with to help purify the mind. It removes cobwebs and debris from the brain. The word comes from the sanskrit, &lt;em&gt;Kapal &lt;/em&gt;meaning skull and &lt;em&gt;bhati&lt;/em&gt; meaning, "shining or illuminating". It's a short, percussive breath of forced exhalation designed to create more space in the body for more prana, air, life force, chi, oxygen, whatever you want to call it. As a singer, I've also found that&lt;em&gt;Kapala bhati&lt;/em&gt; works really well as a vocal warmup as well. Anyway, who doesn't want a shining skull? Just do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the interest of our collective shining skulls, I came across a quote from Joanna Macy, Buddhist scholar, ecologist and founder of no small undertaking of an organization called The Council of All Beings. I find this line of thinking to be particularly potent at his point in Time:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;em&gt;I believe that we have got to shift our identity out of that little prison cage of ego in order to survive. We have to find new ways to know experientialy our inter-connectedness with all forms of life on this planet. Conventional morality tells us that we should love our neighbor and ought to remember the needy just doesn't work.It's boring and we don't feel it inside ourselves. We need meditations and games an rituals that will give us space to step outside of the human identification we've been wearing for so long." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my heart, this sentiment is particularly relevant to where things are right now for us planet and as human beings in quest -- we are longing for an older, simpler time where we can be healed by Nature but at the same time we are being pulled into this strange unknown , wired-up, wacked out Future. I pray to God that David Bowie secretly owns the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've put together a little list of books I'm reading that might help increase your shine factor. These are the pages I'm getting lost in at the moment: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Every Living Thing&lt;/em&gt; by James Herriot &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Feminine Face of God&lt;/em&gt; by Sherry Ruth Anderson &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Invention of Paradise&lt;/em&gt; by Peter C. Bener &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Uppity Women of the New World&lt;/em&gt; by Vicki Leon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Inward Revolution: Bringing About Radical Change in the World&lt;/em&gt; by J.Krishnamurti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Power to Heal:Ancient Arts &amp;amp; Modern Medicine &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And on this All Saints Day I will be thinking of you, dear readers, as I sit tonight in the pew (I can never get anyone to come to church with me-- has it truly gone out of fashion?) and sing and kneel and pray for the many miracles this upside down world on Fire needs. STAT, from the Latin, " statum", meaning " at once". Eight years of a dead language always served me well. Speaks Latin, my Satin doll.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never gonna fall for Modern Love, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holly &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-7490466078029099930?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/7490466078029099930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/11/your-shining-skull.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/7490466078029099930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/7490466078029099930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/11/your-shining-skull.html' title='Your Shining Skull'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sGxP-qYPOgQ/TrA7quSUSGI/AAAAAAAABn4/lnUwULaiqx4/s72-c/skull.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-4282687602968838552</id><published>2011-10-23T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T20:31:32.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditations on Kimbella: Musings on Smut</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The way to see by Faith is to shut the Eye of Reason. - Benjamin Franklin &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is the eye of other people that ruin us. If I were blind I would want, neither fine clothes, fine houses or fine furniture. - Benjamin Franklin &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It is the mind that makes the body. - Sojurner Truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today as I was walking home from teaching a yoga class and having a brain storm session about the &lt;a href="http://worldyogaproject.org/"&gt;WORLD Y.O.G.A. project&lt;/a&gt;, a boy handed me this postcard: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nbyqB688jnQ/TqSQf09YgBI/AAAAAAAABgI/Vn9QCs19wAU/s1600/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nbyqB688jnQ/TqSQf09YgBI/AAAAAAAABgI/Vn9QCs19wAU/s400/014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666813107605372946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a vibrant invitation indeed to Kimbella's birthday bash, which is purportedly a celebration of "Love &amp; Hip Hop". Now, I know these kinds of things go on in the world, and while I have been accused of being oblivious to the world around me, my friend Josh said to me tonight, " You seem like the kind of person who worries about everything but somehow looks like you're worried about nothing." That was the greatest compliment anyone has paid me in quite some and it couldn't be more true, by some freak of nature. I'm extremely worried about how we are going to uplift humanity as a human race. I am also worried that Kimbella has perhaps never seen &lt;em&gt;The Birth of Venus&lt;/em&gt; or listened to &lt;em&gt;The Faure Requiem &lt;/em&gt;or read &lt;em&gt;Little Women. &lt;/em&gt;I'm also worried that Kimbella does not have any pants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the boy handed me this card, I continued my walk and came upon this gargantuan head of Benjamin Franklin, which made the intersection of past, present and future even more bewildering. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8jR3KcdcVTA/TqSRvwahOTI/AAAAAAAABgU/VyFuUdrp2bA/s1600/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8jR3KcdcVTA/TqSRvwahOTI/AAAAAAAABgU/VyFuUdrp2bA/s400/005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666814480774936882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something about this photo got under my skin and so I shot this first photo in what I call, the &lt;em&gt;Meditations on Kimbella &lt;/em&gt;series: &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sXbEF44NueM/TqST8Pd1eHI/AAAAAAAABgg/AWt1McECdrQ/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sXbEF44NueM/TqST8Pd1eHI/AAAAAAAABgg/AWt1McECdrQ/s400/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666816894292031602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't have any explanation for the origin of this particular expression. It speaks vaguely of a snow leopard lost in the concrete jungle, but mostly I think it's the expression of a being who wishes to raise the wonder higher and is perplexed that a virtually naked well-oiled bottom found its way onto a Birthday invitation. What happened to ponies and rainbows? Birds and butterflies? Unicorns and cupcakes? Fairies and flowers? Balloons and sparkles? Cake and ice cream? Sigh. Kimbella, angel, your not leaving very much to the imagination, gorgeous. We must reignite curiosity and imagination in the hearts of mankind. Haven't you ever seen &lt;em&gt;Willy Wonka &amp; The Chocolate Factory&lt;/em&gt;, Kimbella, bella? I think someone needs to make an all black cast version of that movie, by the way. It's Time. Kimbella, you can play the brat who wants her golden ticket and she wants it now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that first photo, I sought solace in the company of some trees and tried to capture with my shoddy camera and my go-go gadget arms, some more of what I was feeling about Kimbella, Ben Franklin, The WORLD Y.O.G.A. Project, and William Penn's vision for the City of Brotherly Love as a "holy experiment." I reminded myself, gently, while people stared at me taking pictures of myself that Dr. Martin Luther King said, " Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted." This propensity I have to take photos of myself will some day translate nicely into film, though for now, this is where things are. We make the best with what we have at the Time. Anyway, I don't think a photographer would be able to capture these moments as I am able to, mostly because I feel them to be my one-on-one conversations with God and because I'm a strange girl, the kind Robert Smith sings about--- " I think you come from another world", he says, and I smile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is &lt;em&gt;Meditations on Kimbella, No. 2 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q0sjU1MuZJk/TqSZhGO3tDI/AAAAAAAABgs/klvTb23TenM/s1600/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q0sjU1MuZJk/TqSZhGO3tDI/AAAAAAAABgs/klvTb23TenM/s400/006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666823025026642994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In this photo, I was praying, "Dear God, please bring Kimbella some cute skirts or pants for her birthday. Also, please allow me to meet Kimbella some day, perhaps have tea and talk about love, hip hop, and birthday parties. Also, God, please speak to Kimbella's heart about how precious her booty is, that it is not for sale and that she is more, so much more, than her body. Amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meditations on Kimbella, No. 3: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dv03l3fnAkY/TqSbBBTBY_I/AAAAAAAABg4/ocE8gHqlUOk/s1600/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dv03l3fnAkY/TqSbBBTBY_I/AAAAAAAABg4/ocE8gHqlUOk/s400/008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666824672969319410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While I surely appreciate being "invited" to the party, I don't think I'd know what to do with myself, really. I'd feel very overdressed, I'm sure, by virtue of wearing any clothes at all, it seems. Well, after your party, though, Kimbella, I really would like to chat. Have tea? Go for a walk in the park? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meditations on Kimbella, No. 4: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MDLxLniCgDM/TqSb3mRqx8I/AAAAAAAABhE/eQI_PLcvftU/s1600/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MDLxLniCgDM/TqSb3mRqx8I/AAAAAAAABhE/eQI_PLcvftU/s400/009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666825610608691138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There will always be smut in this world but I wonder if we as women can collectively aim higher, raise the bar and inspire our sisters to do the same. I imagine Kimbella is good at a lot of things outside the bedroom that she'd like the folks at home to know about. I'd just like to meet her for the first time, under different circumstances. Right now, I've only met her rear end. There's something troubling about that to my heart, though I realize the menfolk find that perfectly convenient.If pigs could fly... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meditations on Kimbella, No. 5. &lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gnKvwJY_O4A/TqTUNuzdl6I/AAAAAAAABhc/WxuZG5-j4TY/s1600/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gnKvwJY_O4A/TqTUNuzdl6I/AAAAAAAABhc/WxuZG5-j4TY/s400/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666887563506194338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Modesty is the conscience of the body.” - Honore de Balzac &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-4282687602968838552?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/4282687602968838552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/meditations-on-kimbella-musings-on-smut.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/4282687602968838552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/4282687602968838552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/meditations-on-kimbella-musings-on-smut.html' title='Meditations on Kimbella: Musings on Smut'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nbyqB688jnQ/TqSQf09YgBI/AAAAAAAABgI/Vn9QCs19wAU/s72-c/014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-3864134078263598970</id><published>2011-10-20T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T11:50:49.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Forbes, would you make it 108? It would be so great.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R9AeFAzjgnI/TqBTHQBTs9I/AAAAAAAABck/jSDgTIYFpg4/s1600/steve-forbes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R9AeFAzjgnI/TqBTHQBTs9I/AAAAAAAABck/jSDgTIYFpg4/s320/steve-forbes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665619715256726482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Success, recognition, and conformity are the bywords of the modern world where everyone seems to crave the anesthetizing security of being identified with the majority. &lt;/em&gt;- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman. Man had nothing to do with Him!&lt;/em&gt; - Sojurner Truth &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.&lt;/em&gt; - Buddha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Better bend than break. &lt;/em&gt;- Scottish proverb &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forbes Magazine published the &lt;a href="http://www.forbes.com/wealth/power-women"&gt;100 Most Powerful Women in the World &lt;/a&gt;list not so long ago. I was sad to see Mother Earth didn't make the cut. Perhaps Gaia is too Earthy for the folks at Forbes-R-Us. I think most of us can agree by now that Mother Earth is taking back Sunday with a royal rise to stardom in this symphony of Life in the key of C: the note that corresponds to the vibrational healing of the &lt;a href="http://www.chopra.com/chakras"&gt;Root Chakra&lt;/a&gt;. Perhaps so that we can all get on the same page around here Chakra Balancing should become part of Driver's Ed courses. Or maybe the good people of the Earth should be required to know what chakras are and how to balance them before voting. After all, the chakra system is simply a blueprint for healing with which we can learn to balance and manage our spiritual Power. At the very least, it's a fun way of thinking of yourself as a rainbow. And if that's too gay for you, well, that just goes to show you now doesn't it: everybody's gay! In the very English, jovial sense of the word, of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The root chakra, the Muladhara, is a red spinning ball of light located at the base of the spine and whether or not you believe in such things, oh ye of little Faith, it's there. Now, say it like Deepak for me now: &lt;em&gt;Muladahara Chakra&lt;/em&gt; (Moo-la-dar-ha Chak-ra). This energy center governs our survival needs and instincts, our connection to Mother Earth and to our Tribe.It is the chakra that is, naturally, the most difficult to heal when one is recovering from trauma and abuse. For the menfolk especially these days, this chakra is an important one to activate and understand as it is a gateway to the Divine Feminine, something that most men seem to have a bit of trouble surrendering to. It's just societal conditioning, gentlemen. The rhythm is gonna getcha. "Seeing Red" should now, on this World's Stage, at this point in the evolution of our species, have another connotation for people far and wide: We are One. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problems we're facing globally are spiritual in nature have only spiritual solutions. There is no problem that is too big for the Creator and miracles happen every day, we just rarely hear about the good news. And because we the people are so divided about who God is and would rather argue about whether or not God exists-- we continue to distance ourselves from the Divine instead of simply uniting and experiencing, viscerally, that we are all One and what this world needs now is love sweet love. Now this might sound too pie in the sky for the powers that Be, but I'm just reporting the facts. Don't shoot the messenger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G.K. Chesterton said, “ If there were no God, there would be no atheists.”. I realize some people take issue with the word God, which I just find a waste of time at this point. Vell, if you don't like the word “God”, then make up a name for whoever it is you think makes the sun rise and set. Or whoever it is you think is flying this star ship enterprise. The healing this world needs is Divine healing and the prescription for restoring mind, body, and spirit already exists in our DNA. We have everything we need to heal ourselves if we just let go and let God, learn to open our minds and hearts to the suffering of others. Words like charity, pathos, mercy, grace, redemption, compassion, and forgiveness are words that we must all wake up to. It wouldn't hurt either if we could collectively work towards cultivating a daily practice of stillness, mediation, and concentration on breath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Mr. Forbes, Gaia is gettin' after it. We met once, you and I did, Mr. Steve, back when the Gods dressed me up in suits and threw me to the wolves as Press Secretary for Mercer County Executive Bob Prunetti. We threw a fundraiser at Bob's house when you were running against Corzine for New Jersey Governor. These days you'd never catch me near one of those dog n' pony shows unless I had David Bowie in his Labyrinth costume there to protect me &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fw8RMSsslac/TqBVXocHNhI/AAAAAAAABcw/xbAx2SFjSRg/s1600/bowie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fw8RMSsslac/TqBVXocHNhI/AAAAAAAABcw/xbAx2SFjSRg/s320/bowie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665622195712767506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;or my men in black. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DJyEnva4Kik/TqBVrauEI7I/AAAAAAAABc8/MYHM7QbrmQk/s1600/men_in_black1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DJyEnva4Kik/TqBVrauEI7I/AAAAAAAABc8/MYHM7QbrmQk/s320/men_in_black1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665622535627350962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, ho hum, here we are, Mr. Forbes. Funny how God turns tables, transforms minds, heals hearts, works miracles on the roller coaster of love- Ohio-players-style. Times they are a changin'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Forbes, in the name of Love, light and rainbow brite, I would like to present to you with an Addendum to your &lt;em&gt;100 Most Powerful Women in the World &lt;/em&gt;list bringing this list to &lt;a href="http://www.swamij.com/108.htm"&gt;108&lt;/a&gt;, which is a most auspicious number indeed. For starters, it's the number of beads on the mala prayer beads. In Ayurvedic medicine and philosophy, it's the number of pressure points on the body where consciousness and flesh intersect to give the life to the living being. It's also the number of suitors who were supposedly courting Penelope in Homer's Oddessy --- that little minx--- and well, if Stonehenge is more your speed, well, that there sculpture is 108 feet in diameter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I present to you and your readers, eight women of power and influence, but much more importantly, of compassion, which I like to remind myself comes from the Latin, meaning “to suffer with”. These women are fiercely committed to restoring this world of walking wounded to balance, health, and harmony and ushering in a new world of light, love, unity and divine communion with the natural world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We must stir it up a little, Mr. Forbes, for the people. Shake the Truth right out of them. That's what awakening the Divine within is all about and busting open the heart chakras on the upside down world on Fire. Bunch of liars, posers, and bona fide bullshit artists running this political circus, no? I've swam in those waters. It's almost not their fault -- we have simply forgotten who we are. I'd like to teach Wall Street how to walk on their hands-- maybe then we can empty their pockets. And Lord have mercy, I just found out Donald Trump won't shake people's hands because he's a germaphobe. Now, what's that all about? If I had my druthers, I'd assign him to some community service toilet scrubbing at an ashram in Rishikesh. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rNSa6RNSRak/TqBSnxvVdrI/AAAAAAAABcY/z-LYemoip1k/s1600/donald_trump.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rNSa6RNSRak/TqBSnxvVdrI/AAAAAAAABcY/z-LYemoip1k/s320/donald_trump.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665619174552336050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am here, Mr. Forbes, to connect your world of movers and shakers to this network of women who work on the softer side of things--- the yogis, spiritual teachers, healers,tree people, hulahoopers, cosmic dancers, and peaceful warriors. We are a new wave of lovers, dreamers, visionaries, ushering in the heaven on Earth all beings are meant to inhabit. And so, you must not leave us out: we're a very important piece of the bye bye Miss American pie and of the prescription for the healing of this world on speed and in need. We thank you in advance for your interest in our labors of Love, our deep and abiding care for the people most in need in this wiggity wiggity wacked world of sports, Mr. Forbes.A new way of being here now, live on Earth has arrived and is here for the taking – and you can get hip to it or you can stick to the old tricks, kind Sir. But it's here and some fat cats are going to have to pony up around here. Mother Earth can't go on like this and neither can the people or the animals, or the Unicorns for that matter. Yes, the Unicorns. All creatures great and small, the Lord God loves them all. The number 108 is more better, Mr. Forbes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the lineup. Let me know if you'll consider a follow-up piece to your list. I do believe its Time you hear the Other side. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/---kUCJq14Ok/TqBW78_EIwI/AAAAAAAABdI/wSKCrsAosas/s1600/amma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/---kUCJq14Ok/TqBW78_EIwI/AAAAAAAABdI/wSKCrsAosas/s200/amma.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665623919214994178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Amma – “The Hugging Saint.” Need I say more? She is a Saint who hugs people. &lt;a href="http://amma.org/"&gt;Amma's&lt;/a&gt; world-wide charitable missions and humanitarian efforts are fueled by the wisdom in her words that, “ The one word solution to all the problems the world is facing is compassion.” In 2002, Amma was awarded the Gandhi-King award for non-violence. Amma says, “ My sole mission is to love and serve one and all.” Amma has inspired numerous humanitarian activities all over the world including free food and clothing programs, charitable hospitals, hospices, disaster relief programs, medical camps, schools, widows' pension, free legal advice, preservation of nature. The list is long and growing every day. People need to know about Amma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VYWW3HOIT_k/TqBX6RKH4JI/AAAAAAAABdU/YWkh9eq0DIA/s1600/Bolen5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 142px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VYWW3HOIT_k/TqBX6RKH4JI/AAAAAAAABdU/YWkh9eq0DIA/s200/Bolen5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665624989781975186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://jeanshinodabolen.com/"&gt;Jean Shinoda Bolen,&lt;/a&gt; M. D, is a psychiatrist, Jungian analyst, and an internationally known author and speaker who draws from spiritual, feminist, Jungian, medical and personal wellsprings of experience. She is the author of The Tao of Psychology, Goddesses in Everywoman, Gods in Everyman, Ring of Power, Crossing to Avalon, Close to the Bone, The Millionth Circle, Goddesses in Older Women, Crones Don't Whine and Urgent Message from Mother. She is a Distinguished Life Fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a former clinical professor of psychiatry at the University of California at San Francisco, a past board member of the Ms. Foundation for Women and the International Transpersonal Association. She was a recipient of the Institute for Health and Healing's "Pioneers in Art, Science, and the Soul of Healing Award", and is a Diplomat of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. She was in two acclaimed documentaries, the Academy-Award winning anti-nuclear proliferation film Women—For America, For the World, and the Canadian Film Board's Goddess Remembered. She is currently organizing the UN Sponsored 5th Conference on Women. Her most recent book &lt;em&gt;Like A Tree: How Trees, Women, and Tree People Can Save the Planet &lt;/em&gt; is just brilliant. I dare Sarah Palin and Michele Bachman to read it and weep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tSFNlRThB6g/TqBZYK6w1gI/AAAAAAAABdg/p-kKAq3by2k/s1600/pinkola.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tSFNlRThB6g/TqBZYK6w1gI/AAAAAAAABdg/p-kKAq3by2k/s200/pinkola.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665626603014641154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.clarissapinkolaestes.com/"&gt;Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes&lt;/a&gt;, PhD is a writer, Jungian analyst, and trauma specialist. Her work in the 1960s at Edward Hines Jr. Veterans Hospital in Hines, Illinois. She worked with WWI, WWI, Korean and Vietnam war soldiers who were living with quadrapalegia, incapacitated by loss of, either/or, both arms and legs. She has worked at other facilities caring for severely injured 'cast-away' children, veterans with PTSD and their families. Her book Women Who Run With Wolves:Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype should be required reading for the menfolk at this point. Dr. Estes work and mission is becoming increasingly important in our healing crisis as she provides tools for healing and recovery for those who have been deeply wounded. I see her leadership as a trauma specialist as an essential piece of the healing equation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZjwJ8-6xQE/TqBaOXGCQsI/AAAAAAAABds/mj8DP8jbbfM/s1600/myss.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ZjwJ8-6xQE/TqBaOXGCQsI/AAAAAAAABds/mj8DP8jbbfM/s200/myss.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665627533996081858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://myss.com/"&gt;Carolyn Myss &lt;/a&gt;– an American medial intuitive and mystic as well as the author of number books including five New York Times Best Sellers: Anatomy of the Spirit, Why People Don't Heal and How They Can, Sacred Contracts, Invisible Acts of Power, and Entering the Castle Her Most Recent book “ Defy Gravity” was published in 2009.As far as I can see, her message and and vision is making some big waves in the medical community. What is most powerful about Ms. Myss' message is her interfaith approach to healing and courage to challenge the dominant patriarchal paradigm. Her work offers an examination of ancient systems of communion with God and practical approaches to self-healing that are accessible even to the most skeptical of skeptics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HpzkWfINzSc/TqBbBApRkuI/AAAAAAAABd4/4ishhmPHdN0/s1600/b_s_preview_mariannewilliamson_bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 152px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HpzkWfINzSc/TqBbBApRkuI/AAAAAAAABd4/4ishhmPHdN0/s200/b_s_preview_mariannewilliamson_bw.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665628404143198946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.marianne.com/"&gt;Marianne Williamson &lt;/a&gt;– is a spiritual activist, author, lecturer and founder of The Peace Alliance, a grass roots campaign supporting legislation, currently before Congress to establish a United States Department of Peace. She is also the founder of Project Angel Food, a meals-on-wheels programs that serves home bound people with AIDS in the Los Angeles area. Her book A Return To Love should be required reading at this point for legislators. Ms. Williamson is a champion and leader of the recovery movement, the healing journey, and divine partnership. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdPBZGHP-bo/TqBbhwBPp0I/AAAAAAAABeE/rMqHXEz7RRE/s1600/jill__0183.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdPBZGHP-bo/TqBbhwBPp0I/AAAAAAAABeE/rMqHXEz7RRE/s200/jill__0183.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665628966616016706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.vajrayoga.com/vyjillbio.htm"&gt;Jill Satterfield &lt;/a&gt;is the founder of Vajra Yoga &amp; Meditation, a synthesis of yoga and Buddhism that combines meditation, yoga asanas, visualization and contemplation practices. She is also the Founder and Director of the School for Compassionate Action for Communities in Need, a not-for-profit that trains teachers to offer yoga, meditation, and emotional support to at-risk youth, people suffering from chronic pain and illnesses, PTSD, and addictions. Jill is also on the Advisory Board of The Lineage Project, an effort to bring yoga and meditation practices to at-risk youth in New York City. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EN-KnsvZFrk/TqBc9Efc1TI/AAAAAAAABeQ/x7eGfrEI888/s1600/robin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EN-KnsvZFrk/TqBc9Efc1TI/AAAAAAAABeQ/x7eGfrEI888/s200/robin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665630535479514418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yogaflava.com/"&gt; Robin Downs &lt;/a&gt;is certified Hatha Yoga instructor since 1996. She is also an Emmy(R) Award winner for "Outstanding Individual Achievement in News and Documentary" for ABC News magazine show 20/20 (1981). Her roots include East Indian, West Indian and Eurasian by way of the Boogie Down Bronx, New York and was an active participant in the Hip-Hop Generation. Robin’s professional journey from the media arts to the healing arts makes her the perfect guide into today’s rapidly expanding Yoga community. Robin has earned the distinction of being the first African-American female yoga instructor to have a internationally distributed Yoga DVD through Walmart, “Robin Downes’ Yoga Flava™ Volume 1: For Relaxation.” The release of the DVD in 2004 earned her the prestigious Yoga Trailblazer Award from the International Association of Black Yoga Teachers (IABYT) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg6fsKYs550/TqBtOpYcvgI/AAAAAAAABfk/B5g5YE7vdXI/s1600/together.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg6fsKYs550/TqBtOpYcvgI/AAAAAAAABfk/B5g5YE7vdXI/s200/together.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665648429626080770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com "&gt;Holly Westergren &lt;/a&gt;– teacher, writer, yogi, artist, mystic, singer, performer, builder of spiritual bridges, dream weaver of the impossible dream. Holly has had a diverse professional background from barn hand to barista to Press Secretary, Editor for the NJ Office of Legislative Services, Public Relations Manager at Comcast, Literacy Instructor at the Center for Literacy in Philadelphia, Communications Consultant for Horizon House and Drexel School of Public Health. Holly attended Princeton High School and received a B.A. in English Literature and art history from Rutgers University. She received her 200-hr Yoga Teacher Training from &lt;a href="http://www.radiantlyalive.com/training.php"&gt;Vibrant Living Yoga &lt;/a&gt;in Bali and additional training from &lt;a href="http://www.streetyoga.org/"&gt;Street Yoga.org&lt;/a&gt;, a non-profit working to bring yoga to homeless families and trauma survivors in undeserved communities. She is also working with the &lt;a href="http://worldyogaproject.org/"&gt;WORLD Y.O.G.A. Project &lt;/a&gt;to bring yoga to inner city schools in West Philadelphia. Holly's mission is to bring peace, hope, healing, and harmony into a world gone mad using as many mediums as possible. She is working on her book, &lt;em&gt;Holly, Holy, Love &lt;/em&gt;about her spiritual journey, the discovery of her African roots in the City of Brotherly love as well as what its like, at the end of the day, to be named after a Neil Diamond song. H.WEST Productions, a creative playground/production company where all kinds of magic and maddness will happen will be up and running in January 2012.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-3864134078263598970?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/3864134078263598970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/mr-forbes-would-you-make-it-108-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/3864134078263598970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/3864134078263598970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/mr-forbes-would-you-make-it-108-it.html' title='Mr. Forbes, would you make it 108? It would be so great.'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R9AeFAzjgnI/TqBTHQBTs9I/AAAAAAAABck/jSDgTIYFpg4/s72-c/steve-forbes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-6571130920716853714</id><published>2011-10-19T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T21:08:10.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Barely British in the City of Brotherly Love: A social experiment for the Ages</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5pSiqfkG7C8/Tp-FUJsf_gI/AAAAAAAABbc/yMPlGA20zzM/s1600/dogs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665393437501816322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5pSiqfkG7C8/Tp-FUJsf_gI/AAAAAAAABbc/yMPlGA20zzM/s400/dogs.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A difference in taste of jokes is a tremendous strain on the affections. - George Eliot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do what you will, this world's a fiction and is made up of contradiction. - William Blake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you get neither.- C. S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want the whole world. I want to lock it all up in my pocket. - Willy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wonka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not interested in the possibilities of defeat. They do not exist. - Queen Victoria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was in a terribly English mood, the kind where nothing makes me feel better except drinking tea, listening to The Talking Heads, The Cure, and Herbert Howells, in that order. There are not too many Brits here in Philadelphia though I happened upon one the other night-- a yoga teacher from London. I mentioned to her that I too have English blood coursing through my veins, that my great grand father, Clare &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Collingwood&lt;/span&gt;, was from Sheffield, or so I've heard through the grapevine. I wanted to go on offering up my Sheffield trivia but she seemed bored in an " I'm from London" sort of way. In fact, I think she gave me that " You might possibly be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; out of your mind" face that some yoga teachers tend to give other yoga teachers when they're scoping each other out-- you know, the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;once over&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Yogasnobbery&lt;/span&gt;. Had she been a bit warmer I might have gone on to chat her up about Sheffield, nicknamed " the Steel city", also known as the greenest city in England with a reputed 2 million trees. I hear there are Peace Gardens in Sheffield, likewise Winter Gardens and Botanical Gardens. My heart pines for England more and more these days and so, perhaps this longing has manifested into channelling an English accent as some sort of armor in the fight of good over evil in this neck of the woods. Anyway didn't Madonna suddenly acquire an English accent a while back? I think its a survival instinct, really. And a lovely one, at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My frequent use of an English accent here in the City of Brotherly Love has been quite the fascinating social experiment, yielding the most interesting and hilarious results in my mission to raise the wonder higher, lift people's minds out of the gutter and to the hills, which are indeed still alive with the sound of music. As for London &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yogini&lt;/span&gt;, I think its best I kept my anecdotes about being barely British to myself. I do have a terrible habit these days of forgetting that cardinal rule of Public Relations: know your audience. Other times I think I just might as well say anything. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eHzl56Dpirs/Tp-CWBo2eDI/AAAAAAAABa4/n3qYu9agdHw/s1600/sayanything.bmp"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eHzl56Dpirs/Tp-CWBo2eDI/AAAAAAAABa4/n3qYu9agdHw/s1600/sayanything.bmp"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665390171163883570" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eHzl56Dpirs/Tp-CWBo2eDI/AAAAAAAABa4/n3qYu9agdHw/s400/sayanything.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My instinct to use the English accent, which is a mix of Mary Poppins and Claire &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bolderson&lt;/span&gt; from the BBC, was born out of my Old English soul's frustration with the comportment of young people today and peoples behavior in general, really. I feel my English blood gives me strength and comic relief in this kooky, spooky city. I didn't know my grandmother with the English blood too well but I know that she seems from her countenance in her pictures to be the kind of woman who had secrets and kept them well, a majestic and mysterious matriarch named Opal who knew that you always get more bees with honey and that the woman ultimately has the final say. Her nickname, in fact, was "Honey". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3ugwzWOX9uo/Tp-DcxftMoI/AAAAAAAABbE/fYL4e1salJI/s1600/Honey_as_a_young_girl_001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665391386601271938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3ugwzWOX9uo/Tp-DcxftMoI/AAAAAAAABbE/fYL4e1salJI/s320/Honey_as_a_young_girl_001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I do wonder how she would have handled herself in this scene I am about to describe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day when I was crossing a busy street called Broad Street, two teenage boys were walking beside me, cursing at each other, their pants sagging below their bums, their faces filled with anger and menacing looks to kill. I suddenly felt the perky and perfunctory Spirit of Mary Poppins come over me and asked myself, " What would Mary do?" &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-reA-cMCA6EE/Tp-HDHKvIII/AAAAAAAABbo/PsmoOejkO_A/s1600/mary_poppins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 276px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665395343788810370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-reA-cMCA6EE/Tp-HDHKvIII/AAAAAAAABbo/PsmoOejkO_A/s320/mary_poppins.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt my spine lengthen, I held my shoulders back and beamed a big smile in their direction with a nod of my head and simply said, " Good day". The one boy sort of smiled back and then shouted out to me, " Yo, Miss. Can I tell you something? I like your &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Teef&lt;/span&gt;. I wanna lick 'em". That's right, dear readers. He expressed to me that he wanted to lick my teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Good God, " I said, " You want to do what? Do you really say what I think you said? Is that what you tell the girls these days, that you want to lick their teeth? I do hope I'm hearing things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point we had all reached the other side of the street and both young men stopped in their tracks with looks of bewilderment of their faces at my reply. They both started to stand up straighter, adjusting their clothes, pulling up their pants. Then, the one boy said to the other, " Yo, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt;. She's like a lady and shit. Wow. We're sorry Miss. I mean. Yo. We didn't know you was a lady, like. My bad. Where you from?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" England. I'm from England. The United Kingdom. Across the pond. And where I'm from we don't often hear nice things about our teeth and so I thank you very much for the compliment. I wish you a pleasant day. Now, please do not go around saying such things to the ladies. It won't do you any amount of good, I assure you. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They nodded politely." Yes, miss. Thank you. Have a good day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked away amused by the absurdity of this strange inclination of mine, likewise at the magic and mystery of the power the English accent. It seems to act as a kind of wand to lift spirits and raise the level of interactions between human beings in this city, William Penn's "holy experiment". A &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Rasta&lt;/span&gt; man named Erwin once told me that the wood of the holly tree is what Merlin's wand was made of and I have often felt spiritually bolstered by that piece of lore. It should be noted that I do believe in elves and fairies and hobbits, for the record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I have England to thank yet again for protecting me from what could have been a rather compromising situation on the streets of Philadelphia. I was walking to take a look at an apartment in a neighborhood called Northern Liberties when two young men walked by me and one said, " Yo... you are so fucking HOT. Yo, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lemmie&lt;/span&gt; get your number. Yo, sexy, got a boyfriend?" I ignored them, put my head down, repeated the Ganesha mantra in my head ( the happy Hindu elephant deity, remover of obstacles), continued walking as they continued barking obscenities at me in the distance. On my way back from seeing the apartment, I saw the same boys again who appeared to be lurking around the corner, waiting for me to reappear. They continued shouting at me at which point I became incensed and roared across the street in a voice, this time something like a cross between Angela &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Lansbury&lt;/span&gt; and Jennifer Saunders, " What IS the matter with you? Do you understand how obnoxious you are? It is heartbreaking and maddening and I don't understand what you think you're doing. Can we raise the wonder higher? For God's sake. Have you ANY decency whatsoever? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young lad froze in his tracks, his jaw dropped and he said, somewhat sheepishly, " I was just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sayin&lt;/span&gt;', I like how you look."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a deep breath, " And I'm just saying that you are obnoxious and disrespectful and this is no way to speak to another human being."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He held his head down and then just looked at me with a look of wonder. I stared at him from across the street waiting for a response. He said, quite sincerely, as if he was surprising himself with the words, " I apologize. Really. I apologize."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I nodded impatiently, said thank you and continued on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I had just used my regular speaking voice, I know it would have not had the same effect. I've been in this situation before and it does not command the same authority, for whatever reason. And if I had simply fired back like an angry Italian New Yorker, that would have probably increased my "hotness" factor for reasons I do not wish to understand or contemplate. I'm sick and tired of men objectifying women and women playing into that game in our ridiculous culture. I wish Maxim magazine would rot in hell, likewise all pornography. I wish people would look at real art instead and learn how to inspire themselves and cultivate imagination with their own bodies and spirits. I'm sick of men treating women like pieces of meat and vice &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;versa&lt;/span&gt;. Mostly, I just have an aching in my heart for us to all, collectively return to our Divine nature and in that, realize that all of these detours away from Divinity are the source of our shared pain and suffering and insatiable hunger we refuse call a hunger for God. This sounds puritanical but it's not- its just a return to purity, to innocence, to wholeness, to love, to a rebirth of a global renaissance. Sort of like back to the Future, in real Time. Someone asked me to explain what I meant by that. I can't. I defer to Louis Armstrong who said, " There are some people that if they don't know, you can't tell 'em". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A return to innocence is real and possible even for the most wounded and twisted and temperamentally tortured among us. My friend, Interfaith Minister, Rev. Ken &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Metzner&lt;/span&gt;, feels differently. He thinks there is no such thing as spiritual innocence, really, but I am of a different mind and heart. Perhaps it's because I'm a woman or a Christian mystic that I have had this experience and a passion for sharing my circuitous route to discovering it with others. I believe we get do in fact get to start over again, that God gives us that chance to be his child again, to be reborn, redeemed, and experience ourselves as God's beloved again. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was, however, born to believe in Faith, trust, and pixie dust, polka dots and moon beams and pockets full of miracles, so I do not expect everyone to pick up what I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;layin&lt;/span&gt; down. But I am, contrary to popular belief, also quite grounded to this Earth by the tracks of my tears, by my Mother, the ancestors, all of their pain, suffering, and sacrifices, and by my African soul which has led me to a deep river and an inner knowing that my Home is over Jordan. Balancing these polarities, a sacred English heart and a decidedly African soul has been part of the comedy of errors, the joy, sorrow and mystery of my spiritual climb, the agony and the ecstasy, as that goes. God has blessed me with a musical mind and a singing voice, I think to keep me company on the road and to remember that indeed it was from heavenly harmony that this Universal frame began. This Truth is all we need to remember, moving forward, rebuilding, healing, uplifting, and peacefully coexisting. We are One.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for being barely British, well there's a club I've started -- so far there are three of us, me and my two barely British brothers, Mr. James Hillary and Mr. Michael Charles. Perhaps we should start a talk show: Barely British. We're all barely British enough to know that all we need is love, that a joke is a very serious thing and that alcohol, for better or worse, makes us much, much funnier and perhaps more pleasant to be around. This of course is why Saint Martin remains my patron Saint -- patron Saint of Alcoholics and generally a good one to have around if you've got the love of liquor in your gene pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, cheers then, dear readers. Hope you enjoyed these notes from the field. Perhaps me and my super friends will conduct some kind of sociology study and make a film about it. That would be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;somethin&lt;/span&gt;'. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love serving Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rn0gzUPEI4Y/Tp-Mbk84etI/AAAAAAAABcM/pZtTUu5qxNE/s1600/winston-churchill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665401261658766034" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rn0gzUPEI4Y/Tp-Mbk84etI/AAAAAAAABcM/pZtTUu5qxNE/s400/winston-churchill.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; There is no such thing as public opinion. There is only published opinion.&lt;/em&gt; - Winston Churchill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-6571130920716853714?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/6571130920716853714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/being-barely-british-in-city-of.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/6571130920716853714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/6571130920716853714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/being-barely-british-in-city-of.html' title='Being Barely British in the City of Brotherly Love: A social experiment for the Ages'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5pSiqfkG7C8/Tp-FUJsf_gI/AAAAAAAABbc/yMPlGA20zzM/s72-c/dogs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-8250533071473188541</id><published>2011-10-19T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T04:14:13.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Radio This Mornin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VXHz6I-F2bE/Tp6w3PVn5FI/AAAAAAAABaU/0u1JnHZM-iI/s1600/200_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VXHz6I-F2bE/Tp6w3PVn5FI/AAAAAAAABaU/0u1JnHZM-iI/s400/200_0.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665159844335182930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello beautiful people.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be on &lt;a href="http://gtownradio.com "&gt;G-town radio &lt;/a&gt;today 9-10 am EST with Ed Feldman. It should be a grand old time. Tune in, call in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and light, &lt;br /&gt;Holly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-8250533071473188541?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/8250533071473188541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/on-radio-this-mornin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/8250533071473188541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/8250533071473188541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/on-radio-this-mornin.html' title='On the Radio This Mornin&apos;'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VXHz6I-F2bE/Tp6w3PVn5FI/AAAAAAAABaU/0u1JnHZM-iI/s72-c/200_0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-3102371925772270679</id><published>2011-10-18T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T14:54:16.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FYI: God owns everything.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zZv0kxCfRJE/Tp3kDyKrB4I/AAAAAAAABaI/GuzeleHcBVA/s1600/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zZv0kxCfRJE/Tp3kDyKrB4I/AAAAAAAABaI/GuzeleHcBVA/s400/009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664934659959228290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God owns everything. Therefore, know at all times that as God's child you own everything that belongs to the Father. You must feel fully satisfied and contented, knowing that you have access to all your Father's possessions. Your native endowment is perfection and prosperity, but you choose to be imperfect and poor. The sense of possessing everything must be a mental habit with each individual. - Paramhansa Yogananda, &lt;em&gt;How to Have Courage, Calmness and Confidence&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-3102371925772270679?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/3102371925772270679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/fyi-god-owns-everything.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/3102371925772270679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/3102371925772270679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/fyi-god-owns-everything.html' title='FYI: God owns everything.'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zZv0kxCfRJE/Tp3kDyKrB4I/AAAAAAAABaI/GuzeleHcBVA/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-2781436918055989545</id><published>2011-10-13T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T12:31:30.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Yang Is Getting a Little Grey, eh?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rrr9-zVUxD4/Tpcz1kCqpGI/AAAAAAAABZk/LPiVNlwL6o4/s1600/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rrr9-zVUxD4/Tpcz1kCqpGI/AAAAAAAABZk/LPiVNlwL6o4/s320/020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663052051742631010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dear reader Robert Caldwell commented on my last post, " Your Yang is getting a little grey, eh?" after my announcement to move to a softer blog title called "Holly Holy Love". Perhaps he's right. I suppose I just started to feel like I don't want to be calling anyone a "bitch" anymore. Alas, maybe I have gone a bit too soft in this dog eat dog world. I just don't know. As Walt Whitman says, " I contradict myself, very well I contradict myself." Maybe this was yet another classic self-sabotage move, throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Maybe I'll just keep both blogs going, which is crazy, but we'll see what happens. I'm curious, readers, how do you feel about the word "bitches" and its place on the world's stage against the backdrop of our global healing crisis?  Do tell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, some very yang yogis sent me a new web site to share with you all called &lt;a href="http://yogastage.com "&gt;Yogastage.com.&lt;/a&gt; Now, I confess, I immediately took issue with the name, mostly because I tend to think that part of the trouble with the way yoga is taught in the West is that it has become a stage for personalities, but I suppose that's just the way it is, I should likely not take it so seriously. In any case, it is a beautiful site where teachers can advertise their workshops and post their bios. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would make one recommendation to the folks at Yogastage.com to create a section on the site where we shine a light on Eastern deities to keep eye towards the art, dance, an poetry of the East while practicing the physical postures and booking yoga vacations. I would like to see The Vajra Yogini get first billing at the next yoga show on the yoga stage. She is, afterall, the Trauma Goddess and people are hurtin'. Vajra Yogini is often described as " the diamond maiden, the player of games". She describes herself here: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Trauma Goddess is called for people in painful situations &lt;br /&gt;Where anger and hatred block the path of the soul &lt;br /&gt;I evaluate the benefits of revenge &lt;br /&gt;And give better suggestions for spiritual growth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not suited to polite society &lt;br /&gt;To social striving, upward mobility, and making good impressions &lt;br /&gt;I am radically honest, sensitive, brilliant, and blunt &lt;br /&gt;I hold up a mirror to the best and worst facets of human life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gyQnQ7YcgFA/Tpc2Yz-2W2I/AAAAAAAABZw/lKUihMTANFo/s1600/yogini1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gyQnQ7YcgFA/Tpc2Yz-2W2I/AAAAAAAABZw/lKUihMTANFo/s320/yogini1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663054856340265826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find great comfort in these words. Especially the part about not being suited to polite society. That's my favorite of all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true, Robert, I am in a decidedly Yin mode, mostly because I'm in transition, my mother is virtually homeless, penniless, can barely walk and is an angry, walking time bomb desperately in need of head to toe healing like much of the walking wounded world. Of course if you're a Trauma Goddess, you must move through the fire of other people's post traumatic stress in order to do your job well and I welcome the challenge and I do wish to some day to send her to one of those detox retreats where she can punch pillows and cry and do yoga with horses. Rome didn't crumble in a day. Naturally, the yin mode is a means of conserving energy, a survival instinct, really, and I do see it as a necessary rite of passage on the journey of a Christian mystic. There's a wonderful book called &lt;em&gt;Mysticism: A Study in Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness &lt;/em&gt;by Evelyn Underhill in which she talks about this yin quality as part of the method to the mystic's madness: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It remains a paradox of the mystics that the passivity at which they appear to aim is really a state of the most intense activity: more, that where it is wholly absent no great creative action can take place. In it, the superficial self compels itself to be still, in order that it may liberate another more deep-seated power which is, in the ecstasy of the contemplative genius, raised to the highest pitch of efficiency.[36]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a beautiful Victorian illustration by Arthur Rackman that I love that to me exemplifies this yin feeling in the Fall --- it's called, "Feeling Very Undancy". &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-11a2DRmRUQQ/Tpb93_ud1XI/AAAAAAAABY0/gVJfFzCPWUw/s1600/Feeling%2BVery%2BUndancy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 290px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-11a2DRmRUQQ/Tpb93_ud1XI/AAAAAAAABY0/gVJfFzCPWUw/s320/Feeling%2BVery%2BUndancy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662992719905936754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To trouble with all these healing modalities and all these posh yoga retreats and workshops is that they are expensive for folks who are sick, on disability, on welfare, just barely scraping by-- like my mother, for starters, who fell ill with fybromyalgia and chronic fatigue and has yet to bounce back. I hope to start a foundation where there are funds available for people to enjoy these healing retreats so they can go back into their communities and share their experience and renewed health. If my mother were kidnapped by a team of healers ( any takers?) and maybe spent a month at a retreat center somewhere, I know she would feel like a new person and would be inspired to help so many women who have been through what she has been through. This is where the disconnect in the Yoga.com world in the West exists. It seems there are more charitable outreach efforts directed overseas than right here in our own backyards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yogis need to Unite for humanity to bridge the cultural and economic divides that exisit between the people who shop and Whole Foods and read Yoga Journal, and the rest of the human race in this here U.S.A. in yer Chevrolet who cannot afford Kirpalu retreats or even yoga classes. If Seane Corn is serious about wanting to get together, I would happily take her on a field trip to West Philly where I teach 6th and 7th graders as part of the WORLD Y.O.G.A. project. There are pictures of Rhianna, Willow Smith, and Niki Manaj in the girl's room, Seane. I secretly wanted to post pictures of Mother Teresa and Sojurner Truth. What the world needs now is love, sweet, love. What we need to be doing is training a more diverse population of teachers to bring healing, leadership, love, and light to the inner cities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way home to see my mother the other day, at the train station, a graphic on the back of this guy's sweatshirt caught my eye. It said, " Heavenly Sins", with an icon of glittery prayer hands. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aJh8uCognDw/TpcD_RA0K7I/AAAAAAAABZM/NEKzdJnEw1o/s1600/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aJh8uCognDw/TpcD_RA0K7I/AAAAAAAABZM/NEKzdJnEw1o/s320/006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662999441875151794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I couldn't help but ask him what he thought this meant, but as it turned out he didn't even know the writing was there. We ended up talking about how backwards things are in this world. He was reading a book called &lt;em&gt;The One Thing Holding You Back &lt;/em&gt;and I asked him if he figured out what that was. " Emotions", he said. I second that emotion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him if I could take a picture of him, he was using the payphone, which I think is a good reminder to people, in case their cellular devices break, there are still payphones available and people still use them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mUcIQskYjd8/TpcDgglryTI/AAAAAAAABZA/uB7pv1J92G8/s1600/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mUcIQskYjd8/TpcDgglryTI/AAAAAAAABZA/uB7pv1J92G8/s320/009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662998913480378674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll sleep on this tussle I'm having with Namaste, Bitches. Robert's got me thinking that a voice of paradox that is both sweet and salty might cast a glare in the direction of some people who did not yet receieve the memo: we are One. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meantime, beautiful yogis, I wish you love, peace, and perfect pumpkins of the Vata season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and light, &lt;br /&gt;Holly&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-2781436918055989545?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/2781436918055989545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/your-yang-is-getting-little-grey-eh.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/2781436918055989545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/2781436918055989545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/your-yang-is-getting-little-grey-eh.html' title='Your Yang Is Getting a Little Grey, eh?'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rrr9-zVUxD4/Tpcz1kCqpGI/AAAAAAAABZk/LPiVNlwL6o4/s72-c/020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-4507235500346708947</id><published>2011-10-05T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T20:10:38.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changing horses in midstream: We're movin' on up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3hL1uUDKh0w/ToziSVJwvJI/AAAAAAAABW0/ioLaI7Dfv4Q/s1600/ponies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3hL1uUDKh0w/ToziSVJwvJI/AAAAAAAABW0/ioLaI7Dfv4Q/s320/ponies.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660147636241480850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman. Man had nothing to do with him. &lt;/em&gt;- Sojurner Truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Heal the world, make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race.&lt;/em&gt; - Michael Jackson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me&lt;/em&gt;. - Kermit the Frog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Imagination decides everything.&lt;/em&gt; - Blase Pascal &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3edmMDWTBqc/To0Itu2ugmI/AAAAAAAABYM/zSExcvfQn5s/s1600/11t.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3edmMDWTBqc/To0Itu2ugmI/AAAAAAAABYM/zSExcvfQn5s/s320/11t.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660189888439288418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dear readers and denizens of the good Earth, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some Time now, I have been on the fence about whether or not to keep this blog alive in the name of love, light, and comedy tonight. As Winston Churchill said, “ A joke is a very serious thing” and sure there is some existential tongue and cheek sardonic Truth to the paradoxical pairing of the words “ Namaste” and “Bitches”, but we are facing a healing crisis of epic proportions on this World's Stage, and my higher Self, that crown chakra situation simply does not resonate with the word “bitches” anymore-- unless you force me to watch The Desperate Housewives of New Jersey or if I happen to get some Ludacris in my ear, which happens from Time to Time in the City of Brotherly Love. But I'd rather raise the wonder higher, as Saint Ceclia, the patron Saint of Music, beckons us to do. Well, hark the herald angels sing and l'chaim. We've got a world to save-- to harmonize. Or to Marvinize, if that's more your speed. Mercy, mercy, me is right. Things ain't what they used to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never did care for the word "bitch" really. The title for this blog was borne out of my own wrestling with the polarities of my personality, the veritable war of the worlds in this vessel, with Italian, English, German, Swedish blood coursing through my veins and a decidedly African soul. But, we evolve, don't we? Hopefully? I suppose I've always been intellectually interested in paradox and what it can teach us about our own Divinity and the absurdity of the paralysis by analysis we human beings seem to enjoy. I'm also intrigued by how uncomfortable paradox makes people and what role paradox plays in our search for Truth. But those "tussles with the wallpaper" as Nabokov wrote somewhere, are things for the brain, really. I'm sick of my brain. I've been head strong too long. Heart strong, more better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RQV-oyTIKSE/Tozjd6vZupI/AAAAAAAABXE/IluxhprG8tY/s1600/hollyheadstand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RQV-oyTIKSE/Tozjd6vZupI/AAAAAAAABXE/IluxhprG8tY/s320/hollyheadstand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660148934821657234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is upside down and on Fire. We've got a world to uplift and it's going to take a miracle to get this thing moving in the right direction again and I dare say purity of speech is one very big part of the healing equation. Much of the world has gone insane in the membrane but in my heart, Hope truly does spring eternal, despite the fact that it does feel at times that this whole operation Earth might spontaneously combust at any moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other week the New York Times reported another tragedy that some Tibetan monks set themselves on fire. Now, you know its bad when the monks are setting themselves on fire. Heavens to Murgatroid. I do not mean to make light, except that I do because I do believe it is the only thing we have left on this ship of holy fools: levity and the reminder that God wants us to be happy, that we are creatures built for Joy amid the suffering that heaven is a place on Earth, ooo baby do you know what it's worth? Just take it from Justin Beiber:“ You smile, I smile,” he sings, that angel. Such a pure, puppy-love a sentiment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if we can just get the Beiberites to do the yoga, we'll be cookin with gas, as they say. I'll work on that as part of the &lt;a href="http://worldyogaproject.org/"&gt;World Y.O.G.A. project &lt;/a&gt;I've been teaming up with to bring yoga to schools across the world. Maybe we can get Justin Beiber to teach yoga some day. I had a 6th grader from KIPP Charter School in West Philly describe yoga as, " A connection to the spirit world and to the world of cats, because cats are a very big part of the spirit world." That, my friends, Romans, countrymen, is where its at. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5h1sXJOAgoo/TozmwTSxjnI/AAAAAAAABXc/DRTjhTvdx5M/s1600/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5h1sXJOAgoo/TozmwTSxjnI/AAAAAAAABXc/DRTjhTvdx5M/s320/025.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660152549184999026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;I thought I could organize freedom, how Scandanavian of me.&lt;/em&gt; - Bjork &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing to you, beautiful people, to remind you that we are on the precipice of great inner and outer transformation. A global Renaissance is upon us and the cosmic shift is underway-- away from the patriarchal paradigm and a conscious return to Mother Earth who is taking back Sunday with a vengeance. And to adjust to this shift, I need some more horse power. I am a Queen of the Stoneage, you can tell by this blog. If it were up to me, I'd have a horse and a typewriter. And so, I am changing horses in midstream, against Abe Lincoln's advice. I come from two generations of horse women –both my mother and grandmother rode English and Western &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_yGLjxkclIQ/TozhGQIVJhI/AAAAAAAABWs/uKF6Scgkgxo/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_yGLjxkclIQ/TozhGQIVJhI/AAAAAAAABWs/uKF6Scgkgxo/s320/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660146329223243282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and both are not terribly inclined to listen to the advice of men, with the exception of poets, priests, Jesus, Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra. An admittedly strange combination. So, it's time for a new pony. Perhaps a white one with a rainbow colored mane. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjCzhEG48uc/TozkbaqDhMI/AAAAAAAABXM/rCsd4_SeHDM/s1600/RainbowBriteStarlitepic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 311px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjCzhEG48uc/TozkbaqDhMI/AAAAAAAABXM/rCsd4_SeHDM/s320/RainbowBriteStarlitepic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660149991361184962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've received the call from on high, trumpets and all, to move on up in glory, to follow my bliss, to follow the dream I have been given to dream. The impossible one. The one where God whispered to me, “ You will build a bridge between worlds and it will be made of a rainbow and most people will not believe you when you tell them you are Queen of the Fairies or that you were a snow leopard in a past Life and a church mouse and a Lioness, but you just keep on keepin on, my angel in the outfield, my cosmic dancing Queen- Abba-style. You will bring the things of heaven down to Earth, you will remind the good people of the world that Heaven is a place on Earth and Paradise has not, in fact, been lost, contrary to popular belief. You will walk the path of the Raja yogi and teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony." Cat's outta the bag, kids in the hall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now suppose I told you I am writing to you at least in Spirit from the Center of the Universe or better yet, the Rooftop of the World. What Proof would you need? To that I say-- POOF! I do think my snow leopard spirit is in search of Imeon, the rooftop of the world in the Trans-Himalayas. It seems even if I have not yet seen that place, I've surely been there in my dreams and have been given a bird's eye view. I just so happen to be in Philadelphia, at the moment. Philadelphia was indeed William Penn's holy experiment and in many ways, my being planted here has been the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LoBiAPGv5-A/To0OOZeogAI/AAAAAAAABYk/C722wcygXjc/s1600/055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LoBiAPGv5-A/To0OOZeogAI/AAAAAAAABYk/C722wcygXjc/s320/055.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660195947194908674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its funny that New Yorkers tend to think that New York is the center of the world. I've had friends remark about my living " off the grid", and I always think to myself, " Grid? What grid? There's a grid?" &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pr8Ri_v4R6k/To0QrzLb8xI/AAAAAAAABYs/ccRXQ-qLkho/s1600/043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Pr8Ri_v4R6k/To0QrzLb8xI/AAAAAAAABYs/ccRXQ-qLkho/s320/043.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660198651333178130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There are many ways to live, is my point. I think Americans forget this all too easily in this so-called United States. Are we United? I have no idea. Sure doesn't feel like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the trouble with this world gone mad is that we worship the new and not the eternal. The spirit of the natural mystic blowin' through the air has been forgotten. What we need desperately in the West is a revival, really, of many times, places, faces, sounds, scents, dances, dreams, and rituals rooted in community honoring the earth and the heavens in as many ways as possible. We live in a wired wacked out world of greed, toxicity, violence, noise, nonsense, lust, delusion, decepton, depression, addiction, and unbelief, but there is also much of the good Earth left and where there is love there are always miracles. What we are collectively craving more than anything is a return to innocence, but the prospect of going back there is painful-- we've been separated from our Divinity for so long. As Meister Eckhart said, “ Though we are God's son's and daughters, we do not realize it yet.” Ever notice, those of you who teach yoga, how harrowing an experience “happy baby” pose is for folks? It's a downright traumatic affair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Imagine all the people, living life in Peace? Now, John really can't be too happy up on his cloud right now. The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day and it really makes no sense at all, Mr. Forbes. I'll have a word with you later, I imagine. I met Steve once, back when God dressed me up in suits as a Press Secretary and made me shake hands with a lot of Republicans. I'm sure that will come in handy again some day. If I could offer one message of Hope to our President it is this: the yogis are coming! The yogis are coming! And if you don't keep your wits about you, you may get trampled on by a herd of elephants. We're coming for you Palin, and your caribou too, who we will escort to a witness protection program. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All we really need to do is to open some more heart chakras, share the wealth and get back to the garden. I'm not sure how its all going to balance itself out again, that's God's finished work and Jesus' Victory at the cross and Buddhas promise of a pure, happy and shimmering Land of bliss. They were brothers, y'all. We just have to breathe and believe in the promise of a new tomorrow, the ushering in of a whole new world, a new way of relating to ourselves and each other. And if you don't believe in God, well then whoever you think makes the sun rise and set and whoever you think is flying this thing. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W1CLqTKK16c/To0KrlFQrGI/AAAAAAAABYU/tgT7Edak4u0/s1600/244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W1CLqTKK16c/To0KrlFQrGI/AAAAAAAABYU/tgT7Edak4u0/s320/244.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660192050479410274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I hope you'll follow me to my new empire under the Sun called &lt;a href="http://hollyholylove.blogspot.com "&gt;Holly Holy Love&lt;/a&gt;, which is the name of a Neil Diamond song I was named after. If you've never heard the song, it's a good one.I will tell you more about this dream that's been chasing me for some time now and my discovery of what feels like the Holy Grail for my generation, or as my soul mate from the desert, Samir calls it, The Holly Gale. I am indeed a child of the winds and have been blown about for some time now. I have relied on the kindness of strangers and I get by with a little help from my friends, you know who you are, you have given me my wings. At this point I can either land the plane or take flight. I do believe I can fly, R Kelly-style. &lt;em&gt;Holly Holy Love &lt;/em&gt;is the story of Jersey girl named Holly Jean who became a do-it-yourself yoga Queen. Kind of like Eat, Pray, Love but different. Same, same, but different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dear South African chum who I met at yoga teacher training in Bali named Lindy said she had been reading this here blog and commented to another soul sister of mine, Miss Janet Kipling ( descendant of Rudyard, you don't say) that, “ her life seems to be pin balling and there seems to be so much of the world she'd like to see otherwise”. It's true, Lindy, and it makes me want to sing Moonriver to you or better yet, Pinball Wizard, by The Who. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj7joxeVh3o/TozlTCx27rI/AAAAAAAABXU/uceIY_3uges/s1600/who-pinball-wizard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj7joxeVh3o/TozlTCx27rI/AAAAAAAABXU/uceIY_3uges/s320/who-pinball-wizard.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660150947024137906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a deaf, dumb, and blind kid, Lindy, love. Do not the yogis teach a withdrawal of the senses? Anyway, as Muhammad Ali said, “ A rooster crows only when it sees the light. Put him in the dark and he never crows. I have seen the light and I'm crowing”. Bakasana, baby. With cheese. Con queso, Lindy, darling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J5SyDgGfsfg/Tozi0Ym5jRI/AAAAAAAABW8/rIlhmJfgghQ/s1600/steaks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J5SyDgGfsfg/Tozi0Ym5jRI/AAAAAAAABW8/rIlhmJfgghQ/s320/steaks.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660148221284551954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're movin on up.... to the East side... to a deluxe apartment in the sky......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R0uxEHVAzaw/To0A77bxaVI/AAAAAAAABYE/D8GS-T3jieI/s1600/058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R0uxEHVAzaw/To0A77bxaVI/AAAAAAAABYE/D8GS-T3jieI/s320/058.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660181336241039698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whose comin' with me???? I'll get you outta there Mama....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ShalOM in the home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep calm and sparkle, dear ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rhythm is gonna get you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours Truly, &lt;br /&gt;Holly Holy Love ( aka H.West)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tGSSwIvRMaA/ToznwrNQ_PI/AAAAAAAABXk/XmnYLnLG_H0/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tGSSwIvRMaA/ToznwrNQ_PI/AAAAAAAABXk/XmnYLnLG_H0/s320/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660153655115971826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jerusalem by William Blake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did those feet in ancient time.&lt;br /&gt;Walk upon England's mountains green:&lt;br /&gt;And was the holy Lamb of God,&lt;br /&gt;On Englands pleasant pastures seen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did the Countenance Divine,&lt;br /&gt;Shine forth upon our clouded hills?&lt;br /&gt;And was Jerusalem builded here,&lt;br /&gt;Among these dark Satanic Mills?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bring me my Bow of burning gold;&lt;br /&gt;Bring me my Arrows of desire:&lt;br /&gt;Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!&lt;br /&gt;Bring me my Chariot of fire!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not cease from Mental Fight,&lt;br /&gt;Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:&lt;br /&gt;Till we have built Jerusalem,&lt;br /&gt;In Englands green &amp; pleasant Land&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-4507235500346708947?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/4507235500346708947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/changing-horses-in-midstream-were-movin.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/4507235500346708947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/4507235500346708947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/10/changing-horses-in-midstream-were-movin.html' title='Changing horses in midstream: We&apos;re movin&apos; on up.'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3hL1uUDKh0w/ToziSVJwvJI/AAAAAAAABW0/ioLaI7Dfv4Q/s72-c/ponies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-405423050455940691</id><published>2011-08-04T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T11:42:43.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rags, riches, stitches, bitches &amp; Yogiclothing.com</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bEM-DFHTcAs/TjqneJHcr9I/AAAAAAAABJU/wbLyML-JPmU/s1600/hollyjeab%2B141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bEM-DFHTcAs/TjqneJHcr9I/AAAAAAAABJU/wbLyML-JPmU/s400/hollyjeab%2B141.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637002019892670418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.....If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. &lt;/em&gt; - Matthew 6:25-34&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6vmNOcENPAU/Tjqn9e_krQI/AAAAAAAABJc/UkzyL0tUMc0/s1600/hollyjeab%2B089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6vmNOcENPAU/Tjqn9e_krQI/AAAAAAAABJc/UkzyL0tUMc0/s400/hollyjeab%2B089.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637002558341164290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you get all that? Get it? Got it? Good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I received a new yoga outfit in the mail to sample from &lt;a href="http://www.yogiclothing.com "&gt;Yogiclothing.com&lt;/a&gt;. It's always exciting to get mail, especially clothes. I used to be a clothes horse but the yoga kinda took that out of me. I can't be bothered with the noise and stress of shopping anymore except at consignment shops and thrift stores or if I'm overseas, or the occasional spree to buy a dress if there's a need to get gussied up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I confess this package was beautifully timed, I'm teaching a yoga workshop on Saturday and have been running low on yoga clothes, and voila, I have a new outfit. As my friend Haridas Babajii reminds me, "Sometimes a Prince, sometimes a pauper, but always a servant of God". &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8_DAzFbqMzE/TjrBuoKH9PI/AAAAAAAABLU/m-bwueQATiM/s1600/babaji.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 301px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8_DAzFbqMzE/TjrBuoKH9PI/AAAAAAAABLU/m-bwueQATiM/s320/babaji.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637030890405623026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting a little better about embracing our out of control material culture in all its superficiality, excess, and body-obsessed absurdity. Namaste and Exhibit A, friends, Romans, Countrymen, The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Cue , "Everybody's Got A Hungry Heart".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wf1oDZuZ02U/TjrnwLi_TkI/AAAAAAAABMU/22K3hqHkJjI/s1600/RealHousewivesOfNJ_S1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wf1oDZuZ02U/TjrnwLi_TkI/AAAAAAAABMU/22K3hqHkJjI/s400/RealHousewivesOfNJ_S1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637072698526879298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice it to say, &lt;a href="http://www.yogiclothing.com "&gt;Yogiclothing.com &lt;/a&gt;is a safe place for a retailphobe like me to start making friends again with the material world. Still I live by that passage from the book of Matthew and it is a message I am most interested in bending the Wallstreet world into digesting, even if I've got to be a blackbird singing in the dead of night or an undercover Ambassador of Yoga armed with incense, bells, Beiber, books and looks to do it. Never say never. How'd that get in there? Hello, lovebug... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UYFELtcnI4M/TjrKGHu1zAI/AAAAAAAABL0/hdukHfESilI/s1600/Justin-Bieber.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UYFELtcnI4M/TjrKGHu1zAI/AAAAAAAABL0/hdukHfESilI/s320/Justin-Bieber.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637040090111134722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, back to the threads. My apologies for the not-so-professional photos but I thought I'd keep it real here. This is where things are right now in the Garden State, we make the best of what's around, me and my lil' Mama (it's her iPhone camera)and anyway I kinda like it this way-- it speaks to the authentically home-grown Jersey Fresh operation that is yours truly and &lt;em&gt;Namaste, Bitches &lt;/em&gt;and to the fact that less really is more most of the time. 60% of the time, it works everytime. I keep quotes from Anchorman in my back pocket for the big boys. Silly boy blue.That's one of my favorite Bowie songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to wearing the pants: they are Linen Gaucho pants, priced at $77, which is not bad since you could really live in these things and they transition beautifully from yoga studio to dinner with your favorite fashionista devis. They are super comfy and cute and come in many fun colors. Get some. You'll love. How's that, am I sellin' ya? I swear I could probably sell ice in Iceland with a song and a dance. Truly, these are a great find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LlOqaBxpUPU/Tjq3ikTYWUI/AAAAAAAABK8/pkFOMa7TpD8/s1600/hollyjeab%2B163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LlOqaBxpUPU/Tjq3ikTYWUI/AAAAAAAABK8/pkFOMa7TpD8/s400/hollyjeab%2B163.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637019688095996226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top: I LOVE KARMA screen t-shirt, $27, super soft and cozy. Just make sure you actually understand the word Karma before you sport the thing, otherwise I think the shirt could get you in trouble. As a marketing add-on, may I recommend to the folks at Yogiclothing.com that the shirt should come with a print-out explanation of Karma yoga beyond " you reap what you sow" and perhaps a pocket-sized edition of &lt;em&gt;The Bhagavagita. &lt;/em&gt; That would be brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UcenyQVTSPo/Tjq4cQXp85I/AAAAAAAABLE/FsFXxpiT_dc/s1600/hindu-rashtra-krishna-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UcenyQVTSPo/Tjq4cQXp85I/AAAAAAAABLE/FsFXxpiT_dc/s320/hindu-rashtra-krishna-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637020679177630610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt;“But thou, want not! Ask not! Find full reward&lt;br /&gt; Of doing right in right! Let right deeds be&lt;br /&gt; Thy motive, not the fruit which comes from them&lt;/em&gt;.” - Verse 47, Chapter II &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once met a girl who teaches vinyasa yoga who told me she never read The Gita. I think after I hissed and scowled at her in with my angry English teacher face, my heart proceeded to break a little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart breaks a lot and I think maybe that is why I have a weakness for hoodies and for hiding in them. This hoodie goodie is really top notch, white with black spirally stitching on the hood, perfect pockets for snacks and lip gloss...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5DkXATbTM64/TjqqDf5pFsI/AAAAAAAABKM/FdXhjstXyi0/s1600/hollyjeab%2B108.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5DkXATbTM64/TjqqDf5pFsI/AAAAAAAABKM/FdXhjstXyi0/s400/hollyjeab%2B108.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637004860687193794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a fun little secret cut out on the sleeve for your Tom thumbkin to be free! Yay. Genius! It's not on the Yogiclothing.com site yet, but it will be soon and I think it's around $90.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qVyP83mRIb0/TjqufybP0MI/AAAAAAAABKU/X_sYGGdVMz0/s1600/hollyjeab%2B113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qVyP83mRIb0/TjqufybP0MI/AAAAAAAABKU/X_sYGGdVMz0/s400/hollyjeab%2B113.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637009744742830274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c9se9WwLZi8/Tjqv2zJL9uI/AAAAAAAABKc/HeKi8dfO23I/s1600/hollyjeab%2B105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c9se9WwLZi8/Tjqv2zJL9uI/AAAAAAAABKc/HeKi8dfO23I/s400/hollyjeab%2B105.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637011239584134882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As one of my favorite yogi teachers in all the land, David Williams says, do the yoga and all is coming...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He practices his yoga in Hawaian shirts and Umbros from the 80s, which is another reason I love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sg0VSRH8V30/Tjq-HMf5KMI/AAAAAAAABLM/2RdKKh5PYuY/s1600/meandavid"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sg0VSRH8V30/Tjq-HMf5KMI/AAAAAAAABLM/2RdKKh5PYuY/s320/meandavid" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637026914430953666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, light, and Rainbow Brite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;br /&gt;Holly   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3cqUbJqLifs/TjqpU8q8KkI/AAAAAAAABKE/CiYsMcINGvk/s1600/hollyjeab%2B081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3cqUbJqLifs/TjqpU8q8KkI/AAAAAAAABKE/CiYsMcINGvk/s400/hollyjeab%2B081.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637004060956305986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XTfEL_46HbY/Tjqo_lhtrXI/AAAAAAAABJ8/ryDdml6ZySw/s1600/hollyjeab%2B146.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XTfEL_46HbY/Tjqo_lhtrXI/AAAAAAAABJ8/ryDdml6ZySw/s400/hollyjeab%2B146.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637003693966339442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj5WLVfCgSg/TjrFE_HWc1I/AAAAAAAABLs/yLObSZ-xOtU/s1600/hollyjeab%2B152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj5WLVfCgSg/TjrFE_HWc1I/AAAAAAAABLs/yLObSZ-xOtU/s320/hollyjeab%2B152.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637034573060010834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oIZJa2TKbT8/TjrLj9NuRsI/AAAAAAAABL8/Spb25EhnOZw/s1600/hollyjeab%2B142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oIZJa2TKbT8/TjrLj9NuRsI/AAAAAAAABL8/Spb25EhnOZw/s320/hollyjeab%2B142.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637041702195578562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rng35YSMUNg/TjrTIESmv2I/AAAAAAAABME/epmaivsguSQ/s1600/hollyjeab%2B149.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rng35YSMUNg/TjrTIESmv2I/AAAAAAAABME/epmaivsguSQ/s320/hollyjeab%2B149.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637050019151789922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-405423050455940691?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/405423050455940691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/08/rags-riches-stitches-bitches.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/405423050455940691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/405423050455940691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/08/rags-riches-stitches-bitches.html' title='Rags, riches, stitches, bitches &amp; Yogiclothing.com'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bEM-DFHTcAs/TjqneJHcr9I/AAAAAAAABJU/wbLyML-JPmU/s72-c/hollyjeab%2B141.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-4161815708905393056</id><published>2011-03-10T04:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T11:00:58.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YOGA v. Lululemon -- the lawsuit of my dreams.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uRZkukt6QDU/TXo5C83QmcI/AAAAAAAAA48/tFgGNIRQ9ak/s1600/IMG_2211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uRZkukt6QDU/TXo5C83QmcI/AAAAAAAAA48/tFgGNIRQ9ak/s400/IMG_2211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582837410939574722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;A dog barks when his master is attacked. I would be a coward if I saw that God's truth is attacked  and yet would remain silent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. - Pearl S. Buck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;From the film &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Goodbye Mr. Chips, 1969:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie: The headmaster's a darling. His wife's a bitch. &lt;br /&gt;Chips: That's not a word we use here. &lt;br /&gt;Katie: You should I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                &lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;My dear readers, friends old and new, near and far, denizens of the Good Earth, fellow warriors of Light: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I invite you to behold this poor pimped out pooch who has been forced to don a Lululemon logo round his neck. For shame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, more for the YOGA v. Lululemon files. You know, the court case that will make international case law history, where YOGA sues Lululemon, Inc. for breech of contract, identity theft,  perhaps copyright infringement-- oh I don't know what else but I'm sure me and my team of legal eagles and I can figure out something. I'll have them approach the bench in Garudasana with an arsenal of allegations designed to dismantle the spiritual materialism and capitalist creep factor that has become so insidiously intertwined with a holy practice that is both a high art and life science. Mmmmkay? Mmmmkay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know some of you are thinking that I'm overreacting, perhaps going out of my way to become the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;persona non grata&lt;/span&gt; in Yogaland for some ego-maniacal reasons but I assure you, there's a method to my madness. And while it's not tiger's blood that fuels me, I do share Brother Sheen's ire and passion for the dissolution of constructs of corporate greed and bullshit and any thing that separates this spiritually bereft humanity from a higher calling and consciousness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lululemon, while cleverly packaged to the world as some kind of Good Ship Lollipop of Love and Lycra is really doing nothing to preserve and protect the essence of Yoga as a spiritual practice whose ultimate aim is to know God. It's a clothing store, I get it. Perhaps that's not their bag. They're here to sell pants that make the suckers asses look good. But I ask you, friends, Romans, countrymen, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, do they not have a responsibility as a now publicly traded company rollin' in the dough to at least uphold the Truth of this sacred science instead of pimping out the pious signs, symbols, and mantras of the holy traditions of the East? Exhibit A. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YPKngHyNkNM/TXpB4kyDLOI/AAAAAAAAA5E/6ua1xF3K4Po/s1600/IMG_2247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YPKngHyNkNM/TXpB4kyDLOI/AAAAAAAAA5E/6ua1xF3K4Po/s400/IMG_2247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582847128281230562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; (Peace, love, dove &amp; Hare Krishna all you groovy cats!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the fact that I would bet no one in that store either working there or shopping there could tell you anything vaguely substantive about who Krishna is or what Hare Krishna means, when I endeavored to snap this photo, the Lululemonites were quite curiously very protective of this writing on the wall.  When I entered the store, I politely asked permission to snap a photo of the saccharine scribble. The Lululemonite behind the register looked at first puzzled then slightly panicked. She nervously said with a sweet smile, bless her brainwashed heart, " Um, you're really not allowed to. Sorry." Ten minutes later I asked my beau if he would venture to snap the photo.  No one stopped or questioned him and the same girl stood behind the register. So there's that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were YOGA incarnate, I'd sue the $79.99 Groove Pants (with a pocket for your lip gloss!) off of the  -- oh, hello, Mr. Chips! (Chip Wilson, Lululemon founder.) Namaste, luv. So, what the blazes is a Lululemon anyway? By the by, your logo looks a tad bit like a gay horseshoe. Or is that Mary Tyler Moore's hair? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EycnsoK5I_c/TXpX0BS8MLI/AAAAAAAAA5s/PJq5loQhtPM/s1600/lululemon-logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EycnsoK5I_c/TXpX0BS8MLI/AAAAAAAAA5s/PJq5loQhtPM/s200/lululemon-logo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582871239291842738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aY2ErDGM0_A/TXpYA_SgChI/AAAAAAAAA50/cKVzBGE09Dg/s1600/Mary%2BTyler%2BMoore-Longer%2Bflip%252C%2Bcirca%2B1970.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 159px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aY2ErDGM0_A/TXpYA_SgChI/AAAAAAAAA50/cKVzBGE09Dg/s200/Mary%2BTyler%2BMoore-Longer%2Bflip%252C%2Bcirca%2B1970.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582871462091426322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose the growing Lululemon empire could redeem itself by actually engaging in some serious large-scale charitable giving, perhaps to, say, hospitals in India, the country whose traditions and beliefs they're pretty much exploiting. When I went the the website to research what kinds of corporate giving they are actually consistently engaged in, there's not too much press or details about these efforts whatsoever. Par for the course, here's a corporate PR boiler plate response, which neatly fills that tab on the website. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From lululemon. com:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Our Charitable Giving program is unique as it gives the power of choice back to our guests and lets them decide which local charities they would like lululemon to support. Each year, our stores select up to eight local charities to be part of the program. This allows our stores to have a real impact on our local communities. For more information on these charities, our local activities or donation requests, please contact your local store&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a nice sentiment, I suppose, to present a charitable giving policy as one that "gives the power of choice back to our guests". But I'm sure Lululemon guests would forfeit their "power of choice" for a larger charitable effort that a corporation like Lululemon has within their own power of choice to undertake. Mostly, I think this means they ultimately don't give as much away.  Listen, I'm sure there is plenty of good being done under the Lululemon umbrella. That's not my point. I'm know better than to challenge a publicly traded company's corporate ethics, but I would like to light a fire under their asses simply as it relates to posing as a yogic-minded company that wouldn't know a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.prasad.org/"&gt;prasad&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; from a pushup bra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just sell your clothes, Mr. Wilson. And they're not yoga clothes. To me, they're more like overpriced ooompa loompa workout uniforms for the wholly unimaginative. Personally, they cut off my circulation and when I taught one of those free Sunday morning classes, I gotta tell ya, I asked for a water bottle as my free booby prize instead of a tangerine top that would dig into my flesh. And for God's sake, leave Krishna out of it, Mr. Wilson, at least until you're better acquainted with his "brand" of consciousness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, please enjoy a selection of photos from this year's &lt;a href="http://www.festivalofindia.org/"&gt;Krishna Festival&lt;/a&gt; here in the City of Brotherly Love. Rama rama, Planet Lululemon. Perhaps you can sponsor next year's Krishna shindig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2AppP6QkUpc/TXpcPfc7KHI/AAAAAAAAA6M/reMB2_xcfcY/s1600/IMG_0884.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2AppP6QkUpc/TXpcPfc7KHI/AAAAAAAAA6M/reMB2_xcfcY/s320/IMG_0884.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582876109289760882" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O49U5Z1sYaU/TXpcpi1EzzI/AAAAAAAAA6U/CfdHQsaA5CU/s1600/IMG_0917.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O49U5Z1sYaU/TXpcpi1EzzI/AAAAAAAAA6U/CfdHQsaA5CU/s320/IMG_0917.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582876556872961842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AfCvyIOxkcQ/TXpdAfpMIvI/AAAAAAAAA6c/t0_cUdJHDq0/s1600/IMG_0887.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AfCvyIOxkcQ/TXpdAfpMIvI/AAAAAAAAA6c/t0_cUdJHDq0/s320/IMG_0887.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582876951154795250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wE4PHVegXF8/TXpdpjwiIEI/AAAAAAAAA6k/YO8pjhPt9U8/s1600/IMG_0900.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wE4PHVegXF8/TXpdpjwiIEI/AAAAAAAAA6k/YO8pjhPt9U8/s320/IMG_0900.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582877656633974850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-4161815708905393056?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/4161815708905393056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/03/yoga-v-lululemon-inc-lawsuit-of-my.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/4161815708905393056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/4161815708905393056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2011/03/yoga-v-lululemon-inc-lawsuit-of-my.html' title='YOGA v. Lululemon -- the lawsuit of my dreams.'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uRZkukt6QDU/TXo5C83QmcI/AAAAAAAAA48/tFgGNIRQ9ak/s72-c/IMG_2211.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-7401943488721423161</id><published>2010-03-20T07:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T11:50:36.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Takin' It To The Street</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T-1DJMdxI/AAAAAAAAATE/IrYcK1_ZlJw/s1600-h/100_0576.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T-1DJMdxI/AAAAAAAAATE/IrYcK1_ZlJw/s400/100_0576.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450761636355536658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Y'all ready for this. So, I've somehow found myself living in a predominately Irish, Polish, Catholic blue collar neighborhood in North Philadelphia called Port Richmond. There are no yoga studios here for miles. There is, however an Arby's, Applebees, and Dunkin Donuts in walking distance. Yoga is not a household word around here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because there are no accidents in life, I do feel I was put here for a reason. While I was wandering around the West Coast on my soul journey, as yogis so often do, a friend and former yoga student Jeff (a.k.a. Yoga Pimp of a few posts ago) and I had been keeping in touch. I didn't know where I was going to land next, where God wanted me. My prayer is always, "Where do you want me God? How can I serve?" Within a day, Jeff sent me an e-mail that said "Philly needs you back!" Jeff was headed to Thailand and then to a Yoga Teacher Training at Kirpalu and offered me the blessing of staying in his house while he was away. God plucked me out of my wandering and placed me here, on Aramingo Avenue. That's the good thing about teaching yoga-- you can do it anywhere. For me, my ideal work setting is to teach on the street, for free. But that's just me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago, my friend Becky, who I met at Yoga Teacher Training in Bali came for a visit. Becky and I met the first night of yoga camp and discovered we both lived in Philly. After our training, when we both got back to the states, Becky became a teacher at the studio I opened in the ghetto. She has since moved to Portland where she is a Biology Professor and tri-athlete, all around wonder woman, one of those people who has an encyclopedic science brain and the most creative spirit-- serious yogi material. I went to visit her in Portland, a city I love but had way too many vegan hipster poets for my taste. I like a gritty city with a lotta soul. I guess that's also how I like my yoga. It was a divine appointment to have Becky here snapping photos to chronicle my spur-of-the-moment street yoga class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Becky was sleeping in late after getting into Philly at 1 am. Around 6 am, a construction crew started drilling the sidewalk, shaking the whole damn houseBecause I am obsessed with bringing yoga to the people, I got the crazy idea to wait for these dudes to take their first morning break, when I would then attack them with the yoga. I was under no illusions that this guerrilla yoga tactic would actually work, but I am passionate about this practice, slightly crazy, and always up for an adventure in yoga research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also on a mission to demystify yoga and to do this well, I need some information about what people think yoga really is in order to accomplish this goal. And the only way I can think to do this is to bring it out of yoga studios and onto the streets. I think I'm becoming some kind of roving investigative yoga reporter. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T8nfLE1zI/AAAAAAAAASs/FXjt3rQYSCk/s1600-h/talk.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T8nfLE1zI/AAAAAAAAASs/FXjt3rQYSCk/s320/talk.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450759204338194226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know what people think about yoga, people who yoga has not yet reached, people who would not read &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Yoga Journal &lt;/span&gt;if you held a gun to their head, men who say that yoga is "gay." I don't know why I feel called to repackage yoga for these people, but I do. I am probably not the best person for the job, actually. Jeff, Yoga Pimp, from my earlier post is much better suited for this job and I'm working on pimping him out to the Philly yoga world, so stay tuned for that dog n' pony show. I just might be too soft to reach Philly tough guys. But I'm sure I at least got them talking.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T9f2Pm2mI/AAAAAAAAAS8/YoRJ7g7r7rc/s1600-h/100_0565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T9f2Pm2mI/AAAAAAAAAS8/YoRJ7g7r7rc/s320/100_0565.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450760172603890274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My mission was to simply get yoga on their radars. I didn't get much out of them in the way of feedback. "That's some gay shit but I'll try it," said the guy I roped into trying tree pose. These guys have hard jobs, jobs that require them to wear hard hats, jobs that beat up their bodies and sometimes crush their spirits. Most of them drink soda and smoke and eat big greasy sandwiches and are not particularly happy about life. I introduced them to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ujayii &lt;/span&gt;breath, breath of victory, which they seemed to sort of dig. I'm not sure if they took me seriously though. Maybe that wasn't even the point. All I know is the spirit moved me to do it, so I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, yoga was tough sell for these guys. But at the very least, I got them to lighten up on the job. That's the yoga too, I think. I'm sure they thought I was insane. Mission accomplished, I say. But you know they're not gonna forget it. Slowly but surely, I hope to debunk myths about yoga, one city block at a time. I could see myself takin' this yoga show on the road. Whose comin' with me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do feel there is a serious disconnect between the people who are teaching yoga and the people who could benefit from it most. There are corners of our own cities where yoga has not dared to travel. I encourage you, if you're a teacher, to take yoga out of the box, get out of your own yoga teacher comfort zone. Yoga is meant to be shared. That's kinda the whole point, isn't it? Unfortunately, in many parts of the world it has become an elitist endeavor alongside a path of spiritual materialism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have no interest in the studio setting any more. At least not in Philadelphia. As yoga teachers, I think we have more work to do educating people about what yoga is and is not. We need more faces of yoga in the community who can relate to a wider audience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste, Bitches! could morph into an expose of who is really doing yoga and what it looks like, for real. Most people's lives don't resemble anything in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Yoga Journal.&lt;/span&gt; And if yoga is going to do its job, "yoga" as it exists in the Western media seriously needs some better PR. The yoga image that the media is churning out turns a lot of people off to the practice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know who is doing yoga, how they found it, and how it has changed their lives. But I don't want to hear about people for whom the yogic path was made rather accessible in the U.S.-- you know, people with Buddhist Jewish parents, religion majors, musicians, artists, mystics, poets and generally privileged people who are educated and have enjoyed the gifts and freedom of travel, whose minds have been primed to receive yoga, who don't have as many built-in resistances to the emotional, touchy-feely side of yoga, dare I say "spiritual". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yogis, if you step out of yogaland for a minute, you will find that still so many people think yoga is something it is not. I need to find out what people think yoga is and how we can begin to reframe our messaging as yogis for the rest of the world, because right now, we're all just talking to each other. Just look at who is reading this blog-- mostly yogis or people who are already oriented to yoga in some way. I want the message to reach a wider audience, to bridge to gap between the yoga world and the rest of the world-- especially people who have a shitload of money but whose lives are falling apart. Or anyone, for that matter, who feels spiritually bankrupt and has lost a connection to self and is trying to figure out what this whole experiment called life is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, yoga is about finding your purpose here on earth and having the courage to live your best life, the life you were put here to live. For as much as we know and for as much as we have, many of us have not been given the tools to do that kind of soul searching in the West. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga gives you permission to live your best life, guilt-free. For many people, that sounds nice, but impossible. But if you've been practicing, you know that yoga allows you to step away from the stories you have been telling yourself about who you are and how you should be living your life. Newsflash: we're not here for ourselves. We're here to do God's work, to realize we are all one, and to love each other. That's what yoga teaches. But we can't do any of that without loving ourselves first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga is the first stop on that train of figuring out that you really are a force to be reckoned with and if you quit the job you hate tomorrow, you would be fine, you might even come to experience your own power even more. Yoga helps you embrace the fact that security is the biggest crock of shit known to man, the biggest illusion, one that keeps us enslaved to money, possessions, and jobs and relationships that make us sick and tired of being sick and tired. I've been there. I will never go back. There is another way to live of peace, love, and joy. And it's not new-age hippie shit. It's about reclaiming your sense of purpose and recognizing that there is only one you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T_9yOhKyI/AAAAAAAAATM/0Xzb-nuxcK8/s1600-h/100_0568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T_9yOhKyI/AAAAAAAAATM/0Xzb-nuxcK8/s320/100_0568.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450762885944912674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The yoga world is doing a crap job of reaching significant portions of our population: angry wound up white lawyers, gangstas, hipsters, bartenders, strippers, doctors and nurses, policeman, firemen, bus drivers, government workers, politicians. The list goes on. And it's mostly because we have not figured out how to deliver the message of yoga in a way that a wider audience can consume. I'm busy doing my homework and figuring out where we need to go from here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As one of my favorite teachers, Edward Clark recently wrote to me, " Keep the Yoga Flag flying". Yoga could use a flag, it's true. Let's get on that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste, Bitches! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6UBQkagjfI/AAAAAAAAATU/-eBY5tddPd4/s1600-h/100_0587.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6UBQkagjfI/AAAAAAAAATU/-eBY5tddPd4/s320/100_0587.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450764308166249970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-7401943488721423161?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/7401943488721423161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2010/03/takin-it-to-street.html#comment-form' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/7401943488721423161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/7401943488721423161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2010/03/takin-it-to-street.html' title='Takin&apos; It To The Street'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S6T-1DJMdxI/AAAAAAAAATE/IrYcK1_ZlJw/s72-c/100_0576.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8374906735142998499.post-6032993132328302466</id><published>2010-03-05T18:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T08:38:40.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guide to Dating a Yoga Goddess: Damsels, Dharma, &amp; Distress</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S5LA2bThVXI/AAAAAAAAARU/mhF355-5rVQ/s1600-h/skyheaven.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S5LA2bThVXI/AAAAAAAAARU/mhF355-5rVQ/s400/skyheaven.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445626940719453554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok, boys, gentleman, not so gentle men, knights in shining armor, pimps and playas. You’ve see us in the gym, in yoga studios or magazines or on TV. Maybe you’ve even taken our classes--we yoginis, the flexible dare-devils on a spiritual mission who seem to float around the world so freely. We’re a different breed. Most of us are born travelers, nomads even. Most of us don’t like societal rules and conventions. And most of us don’t adhere to them and have dedicated our lives to living outside boxes in some way or another. This is a beautiful thing that many men find intoxicating and exhilarating, until they realize that it also scares the shit out of them. This is true especially for the kind who wear ties. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the multi-talented beautiful Yoga Goddess, finding a life partner who is traveling down the same road or wants to walk hand-in-hand with a Yoga Goddess on her journey is much more difficult for her than any forearm balance.Yoga Goddess, more specifically, a woman from a Western civilization who teaches yoga for a living, especially in a metropolis of some kind, is a complicated creature who has elected to remove her Western goggles and instead apply and  be guided by Eastern philosophies and practices of self-actualization. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This makes her an intriguing and complicated creature to most men, but I assure you, she is not entirely inscrutable. You have only to understand that underneath her yogi persona, your Yoga Goddess was probably fed fairy tales for most of her life, where damsels in distress waited to be rescued by the Prince. Now she is grown up and she is a Yoga Goddess, a yogi who has discovered her&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; dharma &lt;/span&gt;( this is the Sanskrit word for one’s “virtuous path”)and a devotion to God which has eased her existential distress but probably not completely relieved her of the distress of the romantic variety. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Yoga Goddess can appear to many like an untouchable, statuesque, ephemeral, mystical, zany, Aphrodite-esque theatrical mess on wheels. To many men, she is bewitching and beguiling, she can unsettle you with her eyes and bring you to tears when you least expect it. A Yoga Goddess can see souls. She knows how to make you feel things you may not want to feel, which leaves many men feeling too vulnerable in her presence to ever feel good enough. Know that the Yoga Goddess of your dreams is not out to emasculate you but that it is her wish and it is within her power simply to help you open your heart. Sometimes, a Yoga Goddess forgets her own power and forgets too that a man might not want the woman he is pursing to have that effect on him. Know that she knows this but can’t always help it. Her soul work goes deep. The tricky part is, as a highly sensitive healer and woman with deep compassion for human suffering, she no doubt has walls of her own that you will have to be willing to tear down for her to feel safe enough to let you in. Therein lies her beautiful complexity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here are some essential things you should know before you set out to win the heart of a Yoga Goddess of your dreams:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1) Get over the fact that a Yoga Goddess is probably someone who is a little bit dangerous to take home to meet your mother. Exhibit A: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7uXPeuLa_kY/S5G2-2-aGfI/AAAAAAAAA2w/UTfJF5LIhzM/s1600-h/boots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 175px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7uXPeuLa_kY/S5G2-2-aGfI/AAAAAAAAA2w/UTfJF5LIhzM/s200/boots.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445334615493057010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It occurred to me recently that this picture alone might actually have been why my last relationship didn’t work. If you want your Yoga Goddess for your very own, you must grow up and get over needing your mother’s approval. Yoginis are sparkling, creative, charming, intelligent, beautiful, sexy, highly intuitive and charismatic women who your mother might not love at first and will come to love eventually. But we’re also wild and free-spirited, with a lotta bit of hippie hell raiser on the inside, which has the potential to feel threatening to many mothers who just want their son to settle down with a nice girl who won't make too many waves. The good thing is that these qualities are usually countered with equal parts compassion, faith, and altruism. Yoginis also have chameleon qualities, so it is possible that your Yoga Goddess might be willing to dim her light for a meeting with the parents, but do not be surprised if your beloved Mumsy gives her the snake eye for reasons you cannot and will not ever understand. It's a witchy woman thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2) Yoga Goddesses don’t do small talk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga goddesses usually cut the shit and get to the stuff that matters. Questions like, “What do you feel? Where do you feel it? What do you believe? Have you surrendered?” are a Yogi Goddess's version of small talk. A woman who has chosen a spiritual path and dedicates her life’s work to helping people unify their mind, body, and spirit in profound and transformative ways is just not very good at shooting the shit with strangers and will tend to fire away questions that get right to the heart of the matter. If you need her to tone down the yoga talk, simply brief her before dinner with your boss. You can take her to work functions and she will do just fine for a while, but you might hear her take very deep loud audible breaths throughout the course of the night to manage her sensitivity to the noise and heavy lifting of bullshitting. Keep in mind, in her line of work, she meets people for the first time on the floor in sweatpants and spends her days reading about God and breathing. So, don't be surprised if she might need to go and do a headstand in the corner after a few vodka tonics to handle the change of scenery and relax her face from all the fake smiling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3) Yoga Goddesses consistently crave and create adventure for themselves and others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yogis by nature are adventurous so if you’re not willing to be adventurous, in all kinds of ways, if you need to play it safe because you’re afraid of what people will think, then the Yoga Goddess is not for you and she probably won’t date you anyway.  For the Yoga Goddess, it is not enough to simply like the idea of adventure. She will test your strength, she will keep you on your toes, she will love it if you surprise her just as much as she surprises you. If you’re a stable, steady kind of man, she will love you for your groundedness but ask you to abandon it on occasion in the name of faith, courage, and wisdom. That’s just how it goes. One of the most romantic things you can do for a Yoga Goddess is to plan a trip for the two of you and surprise her with it. She is used to taking the lead with plans and orchestrating events. To be cared for in this way is a Yogi Goddesses’s dream. And yes, the adventure extends to the bedroom, naturally. Don’t be scared. Yoga Goddesses are very gifted and patient teachers and healers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;4) A Yoga Goddesses will turn your world upside down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S5K7vEOh7HI/AAAAAAAAAQs/XSjlCkBvUfY/s1600-h/hollyheadstand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S5K7vEOh7HI/AAAAAAAAAQs/XSjlCkBvUfY/s320/hollyheadstand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445621316707282034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If you fall for a Yoga Goddess, it is very likely that she will very gracefully turn your buttoned-up world upside down. Afterall, she has been called to teach people to see things from another perspective, to look at things differently, to encourage people to challenge their ideas about who they are and what their lives should look like. This is probably why many men will date Yoga Goddesses for a time but never marry them. The potential for change is too great for many men who are intrigued by the possibility of being with someone so free-spirited but who are ultimately uncomfortable with what life might look like with someone who is so comfortable with uncertainly, so in tune with and guided by spirit. Someone who possesses an ardent faith in things unseen can feel too intense for someone who is not prepared or interested in a spiritual journey. So, while your Yoga Goddess can be playful and fun-loving, she takes her life, her vocation and her spiritual path very seriously. A man who earns a Yoga Goddess’s love must respect and admire her work, understand its value to humanity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;5) Yoga Goddesses are mysterious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yoga Goddesses do not go out of their way to be mysterious, they just are, simply because they have surrendered to the mysteries of life, have given up searching for answers for why things are and very comfortable living the the gray areas of life. If you are a rigid thinker, the Yoga Goddess is not for you. She is a free-thinker, open-minded and open-hearted. She prizes authenticity over knowledge and accomplishment and leans into the mystery of life at every turn. In my experience, this terrifies and confuses many men. Yoga Goddesses are not good planners since they are usually out doing God’s work, will entertain detours if led by spirit to go left instead of right or to be late for an appointment because of a chance encounter with a mystical stranger who seems to have an important message for her. She will require your trust and patience and she will return the favor tenfold. If she keeps you waiting, chances are she will have a magical reason for it, a wonderful story that keeps your faith in things unseen alive. She'll tell you about it while giving you some kind of exotic massage. She cannot be rushed. And she will not let anyone else set her pace for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) A Yoga Goddess is the hostess with the mostess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She will cook you things to balance your doshas and if you don’t know what those are, she will help you identify them. She will play amazing music from all over the world that will transport you into other galaxies. She will know what to do with your body in many situations as well as what kind of oils to rub on it and where to make you feel like the God you are. She will create a house of harmony, health, balance. She will want to care for your mind, body, and spirit. She can’t help it. It’s her job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) A Yoga Goddess is still a material girl. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7uXPeuLa_kY/S5G0raevj8I/AAAAAAAAA2g/Tnmi9Qfy7bA/s1600-h/neck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7uXPeuLa_kY/S5G0raevj8I/AAAAAAAAA2g/Tnmi9Qfy7bA/s200/neck.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445332082403282882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Yoga Goddess is not immune to desires of the flesh. Though she has probably made the decision, at certain points in her life to disengage from the material world as part of her spiritual training, she does still enjoy earthly comforts like jewels and fancy dinners and unexpected trips to exotic locales. And she is still a girl looking for a boy to love her, honor her, and ravish her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8) A Yoga Goddess cherishes her freedom and yours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The yogic path is often called the quest for the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;jivan mukti&lt;/span&gt;, or the soul’s liberation. A woman who is on a yogic path understands that souls want what souls want and that a relationship is meant to be a place where those desires can be expressed without shame or guilt. This can make her seem like she has the potential to be so free-spirited that she just wants to be free-wheelin, free-loadin and free-lovin’ her way around the world. Not so. A yogic-minded woman simply understands for herself that we are all here to be each other’s teachers and students and that there is no better place for the expression of that dynamic than in a loving partnership. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;9) A Yoga Goddess probably won’t ask you for help when she needs it most. This is her weakness.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Yoga Goddess forgets that her man is not always as intuitive as she is and might not feel comfortable asking for help when she needs it most. As a Goddess, she might have a great deal of pride in her power and might find it hard to make herself vulnerable to a man since she is so used to doing things for herself, by herself, and for others. To win a Yoga Goddess’s heart, pay attention to what she needs to do her job and live her life. To win her heart, try to support her lifestyle in any way you can. She is a giver and has been trained to do and give the same to you. She is the ultimate nurturer and caretaker so while her standards for being taken care of well are high, simple gestures of kindness, appreciation, and thoughtfulness go a long way. Massages at beautiful spas don’t hurt either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) A Yoga Goddess will worship God first, then you, if you’re lucky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Yoga Goddess is comfortable being alone. The spiritual journey is a lonely path since the road less traveled is never crowded. She is used to solitude, comfortable with its pleasures and pains and has used time alone to contemplate and commune with God. A Yoga Goddess has taken the time to know and understand herself and her relationship to the divine and it will be nearly impossible to share a meaningful life with her if you are not inclined to do the same. Don’t waste her time and don’t lead her to think that you have more spiritual depth than you actually do. A Yoga Goddess prizes authenticity in spiritual searching.  A Yoga Goddess has a connection to the divine that preceded you and God is the center of her universe, not you. Chances are, if you are even considering a relationship with a Yoga Goddess, you are most likely already on a spiritual path, even if you don’t know it yet. She does not attract many people into her world who aren’t. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this has given you a lens into the heart and soul of the Yoga Goddess. Do not be discouraged by these truths. A relationship with a Yoga Goddess can be one of the most thrilling, heart and mind-bending adventures of your life if you are ready for the ride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another thing, truth be told,  a lot of Yoga Goddesses were also at one time good (or bad) Catholic girls. So, you’ve got that imagery to work with too, gentleman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mac daddy of the Jesuits, Saint Ignatius said, "Go forth and set the world on fire." I don't think Ignatius got any hot yoga booty, though. He probably could have used a light from a smokin' Yoga Goddess. Just sayin. It's all about balance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste, Bitches!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S5LBnJotoZI/AAAAAAAAARc/oao633iGisc/s1600-h/forearm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S5LBnJotoZI/AAAAAAAAARc/oao633iGisc/s320/forearm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445627777790091666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8374906735142998499-6032993132328302466?l=namaste-bitches.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/feeds/6032993132328302466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2010/03/guide-to-dating-yoga-goddess-damsels.html#comment-form' title='60 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/6032993132328302466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8374906735142998499/posts/default/6032993132328302466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://namaste-bitches.blogspot.com/2010/03/guide-to-dating-yoga-goddess-damsels.html' title='Guide to Dating a Yoga Goddess: Damsels, Dharma, &amp; Distress'/><author><name>Holly Westergren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14141215216895817228</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S2gpjuK4G0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/mLaUumXGogk/S220/DSC03609.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VxoXkHGdwIA/S5LA2bThVXI/AAAAAAAAARU/mhF355-5rVQ/s72-c/skyheaven.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>60</thr:total></entry></feed>
