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Some happy news.
Ten years ago today, I defended my Masters thesis. It was the bleakest time of my life. I’d lost my father, my grandmother, and a dear friend to a freak brain tumor. I was sick with a mysterious autoimmune disease that no doctor could cure, in which my body slowly covered with strange bruises. I didn't know how to feed my body so that it felt good. My mind was weary and clouded with grief, my heart racing with anxiety, and my spirit heavy with hopelessness.
The suffering was palpable. I didn't know how to shift it.
On December 11th I stood in front of my thesis committee and defended my thesis. My voice shook and my eyes filled with tears, explaining what a victory it was to even be there — but dammit, I did it. It was approved with a few minor revisions. I walked away relieved, gutted, disenchanted, exhausted. Nothing left to give.
A few weeks later, I threw myself into a yoga philosophy program. Immersed in the study of yoga and meditation, I realiz…

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