Anahata Conscious Living

23/05/2025

Mornings routines that help shape my day.

As I walk through this journey—recovering from deep loss and grief—I’ve found that how I begin the day truly matters.

Maybe your pain looks different than mine.
Maybe the sadness in your heart carries a different name.
But no matter what you’re carrying, creating just a little space to breathe can help bring peace back to your center.

These small practices aren’t about perfection—they’re about presence.
And sometimes, presence is enough.

Swipe through for what helps me ground and begin again.

Before diving into the noise, I’ve been giving myself just one hour—to be still, to breathe, and to move.

Just a few minutes of silence.
Just fifty intentional breaths.
Just one hour to move my body and ground myself before the world begins to pull.

This practice isn’t just routine—it’s protection.
It’s how I start from peace instead of panic.
From calm, not chaos.
And it sets the tone for everything that follows.

If your mornings have felt rushed, scattered, or heavy… try carving out just a little space.
Even 5 minutes can change the rhythm of your entire day.

How you begin is how you build.
Start with presence. Start with breath. Start with you.

22/01/2025

Saying Goodbye to the Place I Called Home

The place I once called home was more than walls and a roof—it was my sanctuary, my temple, my masterpiece. I built it with love, resilience, and a thousand small triumphs, each one woven into the fabric of my safe haven.

This was the place where I rebuilt my life, where I rose from the ashes of a broken past. Every corner of my home whispered stories of hope and strength. My furniture, collected from all over the world, was more than décor—it was my art, my soul displayed for the world to see. My plants stood as living reminders of growth, of routine, of stability.

This was my peace, my stability, my safety.
And now, it’s gone.

Mother Nature came with her unrelenting force and took it all—my memories, my treasures, my refuge. The weight of this loss feels unbearable, like a piece of my heart has been torn away. I miss the stillness of mornings in my sanctuary, the warmth of sunsets that blanketed me with hope. I miss everything that made me feel safe, whole, and rooted.

I’m left in the rubble of uncertainty, questioning myself over and over: Will I be okay?
I don’t have that answer yet. My heart feels heavy and broken, and the future feels like a vast, empty question mark.

But amidst this grief, I hold onto the memories—those moments of joy, the laughter that filled the rooms, the quiet moments that brought me peace. They’re etched in my heart forever, even as I say goodbye.

I don’t know how long it will take to create a new space that feels like home again. I don’t know when I’ll feel grounded or safe. But I do know this: my journey is not over. My heart is bruised, but it’s still beating. My spirit is shaken, but it’s still standing.

To my home: thank you.
For the love, the safety, and the memories.
I will miss you forever.

18/01/2025

https://youtu.be/D7KkBeFyFeU?si=5MSMTHkF-pot5rJU

Words can’t describe the pain I feel inside ..

Firefighters attempt to save a residential building on Sunset Boulevard that was engulfed by the Palisades Fire.Fuel your success with Forbes. Gain unlimited...

14/01/2025

My Heart Is Heavy, My World Is Gone

Just days ago, I stood in the place I called home—my sanctuary, my refuge, my pride. Today, that home no longer exists. In the devastating Pacific Palisades wildfires, I lost everything I have ever worked for: my home, my car, every possession that I cherished. The life I had carefully built for myself has been reduced to ash.

All I could save was what I wore that day and my beloved dog. I looked back once, and that was the last time I saw the place that brought me peace, safety, and a sense of pride. My home was a reflection of my soul, a place where I worked so hard to create stillness amidst life’s chaos. I never imagined it could all be taken in an instant.

Now, I find myself in unfamiliar territory, humbled and broken. I’m relying on donations and strangers’ kindness for clothes and essentials, navigating shelters, and asking for help—something I’ve never had to do before. The humility of it all is overwhelming. My life, once stable and peaceful, has been replaced with grief, chaos, and a haunting uncertainty.

I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I cry endlessly, as waves of grief crash over me, bringing me back to feelings of loss I never wanted to revisit. It feels as though my life has crumbled, and I don’t know how to pick up the pieces.

The mountain of paperwork, insurance claims, and the complexity of it all leaves me frozen. I feel paralyzed by the pressure of having to rebuild my life from the ground up. And yet, I’m at a loss for where to even begin.

This has been the lowest point of my life. My faith feels distant, and the light at the end of the tunnel seems impossible to see. My heart is heavy, my spirit is crushed, and my mind is consumed by fear of the unknown.

I never thought I’d be here, sharing this story with the world. But here I am, grieving and struggling to make sense of what’s left.

If you’ve ever faced tragedy, you know the feeling: the gut-wrenching pain, the disbelief, and the question of “Why me?” This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure, and I don’t know how to find my way forward. gofundme page Anything you can donate helps appreciated .

25/10/2024

Simple math .. can you figure out this equation?