Embodied Abundance

“Embodied Abundance”

Celebrating yoga and life in May - rooted, luminous, and deeply felt.

There is a moment in May when the world no longer asks for permission to bloom.

It simply does.

Petals unfurl without hesitation. Tulip buds remain tightly wound until the morning when they can no longer contain their beauty and burst open in an explosion of color and delight!

Birds serenade us in the mornings, as that early bird catches her worm. And those tiny little frogs we call “peepers” around here? Well, they sing their sweet little hearts out in the warmth of the evenings – searching for the perfect mate.

Everything is being reborn and feels so alive right now. Me too.

Somewhere within us, something ancient begins to stir—a remembering that we, too, are meant to live open, receptive, and fully alive.

This is the essence of Embodied Abundance.

Not abundance as something to chase or accumulate, but abundance as something to feel. To inhabit. To be.

In yoga, we are gently guided back to this truth again and again. Through practice, we soften the grip of striving and reconnect with the quiet wisdom of enoughness. The philosophy of Santosha (contentment) reminds us that fulfillment is not found in more, but in presence. And yet, May invites us to expand even beyond contentment—into delight.

To savor.

To receive.

To trust that pleasure can be sacred.

As the natural world bursts into color and fragrance, we are invited into a more sensual relationship with life. Not in a way that is performative or indulgent, but in a way that is deeply attentive. The warmth of the sun on your shoulders. The sound of leaves dancing in the breeze. The simple beauty of your breath moving in and out.

This is embodiment.

This is abundance.

On the mat, this might look like slowing down enough to truly feel each posture. Letting movement become less about achieving a shape and more about experiencing sensation. Perhaps lingering in heart-opening poses, allowing the chest to soften and expand. Or grounding into the earth through the feet, remembering that support is always available.

Off the mat, it might be as simple as pausing to enjoy your morning tea. Walking barefoot in the grass. Wearing something that feels good against your skin. Letting beauty matter.

Because it does.

There is a quiet courage in allowing ourselves to receive the goodness that is already here. In a world that often values productivity over presence, choosing to live in appreciation is a radical act.

The poet Mary Oliver once wrote,
"To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work."

May is an invitation to do just that.

To pay attention to what is blooming within you.
To honor what feels nourishing and alive.
To trust that you are not separate from the abundance you see around you—you are an expression of it.

Let this be a month of softening into your senses.
Of moving with intention.
Of remembering that your body is not something to fix or push, but a sacred space to inhabit.

You are allowed to feel good.
You are allowed to take up space in your own life.
You are allowed to bloom.

A Practice to Carry You Through May: Embodying Abundance

Before you move on with your day, I invite you into a small, sacred pause.

Not something to add to your life—
but something to soften into within it.

The Practice: “Receiving the Moment”

Once a day, for the rest of this month, choose a single moment to fully receive.

It doesn’t have to be extraordinary.
In fact, it’s better if it’s not.

It might be:

The warmth of sunlight on your skin
The first sip of your morning tea
The sound of birdsong outside your window
The feeling of your breath moving gently in your body
Noticing the color of the tulips in your neighbor’s garden

When you notice the moment, pause.

Let yourself arrive.

Take a slow breath in…
and as you exhale, soften your body just a little more.

Then quietly say to yourself:

“This is enough. I am enough. I receive this.”

Stay for one or two breaths longer than you normally would.

That’s it.

Why This Matters

Abundance isn’t something we create through effort.
It’s something we recognize through presence.

The more we allow ourselves to receive the small, fleeting gifts of each day,
the more we gently rewire ourselves to live in gratitude rather than grasping…
in fullness rather than lack.

This is the heart of the practice.