Rabbit, Rabbit! August 2025

16 years ago this month was the last time I saw my dad. At the end of July, we took a family trip to Baltimore to celebrate my sister graduating nursing school. Three weeks later, on August 11, 2009, he died by suicide.

Surviving the suicide of one of the closest people in your life is arguably one of the worst tings that can happen to you. Not only is there the "normal" grief of losing a loved one, but there is the additional grief and guilt of what you could have done to prevent it, to have seen the signs, to have gotten in between that person and their darkest thoughts.

But over time, through lots of yoga, mindfulness and self-reflection, I have learned that happiness is an inside job, and there is nothing that anyone can do to influence your mental state.

Your thoughts become feelings, your feelings become actions, your actions become behaviors, and your behaviors shape your life.

The word yoga is Sanskrit for union. In yoga we talk about duality and equanimity. The yin and the yang, being balanced and holding multiple truths at once. To me, this shows up off the mat as the ability to hold grief and pleasure at the same time.

When I reflect upon the tragic passing of my father, and look at my own 4 children, I am simultaneously holding a deep grief for decades of missed moments, and a happiness that I was exposed to the depths of his experience which illuminated this path for me. That I now have the chance to manage my mental state differently, and help so many others do the same.

Losing him is what turned me inward. It gutted me to the core, but it is also what brought me to my yoga practice, which eventually led me here.

I am not a perfect parent - by far. I say and do things I regret, and act out of frustration and overwhelm when I have dozens of "tools in my toolbox" to behave differently. But I am also a human - a human with needs and emotions and I will get it wrong, hundreds and hundreds of times.

August is always hard. It rolls in like a late summer storm that grays the skies and hangs over my head for weeks and weeks. I turn inward, feel deeper and try, year over year, to have more compassion with myself and my emotions.

And this year I am anchoring my thoughts in the affirmation ~ happiness is an inside job.

It was never my job to manage my dad's emotions, or to "make his life worth living". I have deep regret that he does not get to see his four beautiful grandsons age, but it was never my responsibility to hold that light for him.

And it's not your responsibility to do that for another person either. That is not love.

Love is understanding. Love is compassion. Love is letting other people be exactly who they are, struggles and all.

This month, I invite you to look inward to those pockets of cloudy skies and see what opposing truths you can hold at once. Grief and gratitude, anger and happiness, longing and contentment.

Share them below or send me a DM if you'd prefer to chat privately. And hug your Dad for me if he's still around.

MISS you and LOVE you, Dad, go RU ;)