soundtrack to your life | anna guest-jelley

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Anna Guest-Jelley is the founder of Curvy Yoga – a training & inspiration portal for curvy and body lovin’ yoga students and teachers. A writer, teacher and lifelong champion of women’s empowerment and body acceptance, Anna encourages women of every size, age and ability to grab life by the curves, and never let go. Awesome, non?

I just love what Anna puts into the world – check out her fabulous MATifesto for a taste. She truly lives what she gives and is creating a beautiful global yogini movement.

Anna has a wealth of Curvy Yoga programs, classes & certification courses online, at CurvyYoga.com - check it!

history

When were you happiest? I actually think I’m happier now than I’ve ever been. I was going to choose my wedding day because that was such a sweet moment, but I’m sad to say that I spent much of the day inwardly obsessing about how my belly looked in my dress that I didn’t enjoy it as fully as I would have liked.
What was the most important thing that happened to you as a child?I was a fairly sick kid. In addition to colds and strep throat and whatnot, I had a bout with chronic stomach pain in middle school. Then during my Junior year in high school, I had a year of chronic migraines. My life really changed that year. For a long time I thought it was for the worst, but in retrospect, I’m grateful for the lessons pain has brought me. It was those very migraines that eventually led me to yoga – which unlocked an entire world for me: the world of connection with myself and my body.
To whom would you most like to say sorry, and why? The younger version of me. I ignored many of the messages she was trying to send me loud-and-clear – sometimes for years.
What song best explains the soundtrack to your teenage life? I’m Sensitive, Jewel

heart

What does love feel like? An exhale with my face to the sun, while sitting at the beach with my feet in the ocean.
What is the dumbest thing you have done in the name of love? Lied to myself.
What three qualities must/does your life partner possess? My partner is kind above all, willing to grow together and oh so supportive. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
What is your favourite love song? Sail Away, David Gray

life

What is your secret job title? Catalyst.
What trait do you deplore in others? Condescension.
What is your greatest life lesson (so far)? External to internal – the more I listen to and trust myself, the better everything goes.
What song would you like played at your funeral? Naked As We Came, Iron and Wine

home

What is your most treasured possession? I wear my jewelry like a talisman – mala bead bracelets, a lotus necklace from my bestie, my wedding rings.
What is your favourite daily ritual? Snoozle (snooze + snuggle before getting out of the bed in the morning).
Who are the five people you would love to host at afternoon tea? My sister and four of my besties. We’d never stop talking!
What song feels like home? Simply Irresistible, Robert Palmer

body

How do you take care of your body? By listening to what it actually wants, rather than telling it what it should have/do/be.
What has your body taught you? That I am here – in this moment – and that that’s enough.
If reincarnation is a thing, what body do you want to possess in your next life? This one, but I want to start loving it way sooner. Of course, the odds I’d get to be a human again so soon are probably pretty slim, so my back-up choice is a sparrow.
What song never fails to make you feel un-freakin-stoppable? Vogue, Madonna

soul

What feeds your soul? Sunshine, Spring, driving with the windows down, tea with a girlfriend and nowhere to go afterwards, reading in bed, luxurious yoga practices, snuggling with my pups, holding hands with my hubby at the grocery.
What do people thank you for? Telling my truth and letting people know they’re not alone.
If you were to be remembered for one thing, what would you like it to be? Choosing openness, when I could have so easily gone the other way.
What song feels like it was written about you? Anna Begins, Counting Crows

mixtape

that one time, in czechoslovakia…

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It was our second attempt at Christmas in Prague.

The previous year, Mum had died suddenly and so instead of the Charles Bridge and Wenceslas Square with lovely friends (waves madly at the Rata clan), we had flown home to New Zealand for a bewildered blur of jetlag and grief.

And perhaps it was a stoic determination to have our wintery Christmas, or just a complete lack of imagination, but the day before Christmas Eve 2003 I was Prague-bound with ex-husband.

{branches off to provide contextual information}

In early December, I had heard of a miracle pill that sped up weight-loss by a whopping 30%. The Orlistat informerical was mesmerising: THEY ALL LOOKED SO HAPPY. These people had gone from looking sad and lumpy and wearing grey trackies, to playing beach volleyball and horse-riding in white skinny jeans!

Proper Science explained how fat was eliminated via one’s bowel movements. Woop! 2004 would be The Year that I would take hold of my body and sort it out once and for all. And this was the miracle answer I was waiting for.

I could literally shit myself thin.

The list of possible side affects was long, gross and scary so I threw that page away, and proceeded with the recommended dose. After two days, I had not lost any weight. So I added an additional half tablet.

A week later, on the afternoon we flew to Prague I was taking double the dose.

{and we’re back}

We spent the morning of Christmas Eve wandering around the Christmas markets. It was snowy and freezing -17° C. After a few hours outside, I thought I would never be warm again. And I had awful stomach cramps – clearly the previous evenings ‘Yay We’re Here’ goulash was a little too much.

Then the gurgling started. And the cold sweats. I had this horrible sense that something bad was going to happen. And soon. Through layers of pants, thermals and jeans, my issue appeared to be a largely ‘wind-based’ but I knew this was a temporary situation. If you have ever been in a non-English speaking country with a sudden and desperate urge for a loo, you’ll know the utter relief of catching sight of those golden arches, and the prospect of a McWee.

Lets just say my McPooh was epic.

{digression for further context}

My travelling companion’s interests included 5am workouts six days a week, and a diet of egg whites, rice, and tuna (I know, dear reader, I know). This holiday was his annual opportunity to eat like a normal person. He was fully up for much Czech beer and Utopenci (spicy pork sausage).

And so I felt I could not reveal to him, the precise details of what was happening in my little world.

Also: the Shame.

{back again}

I cleaned myself up in the McLoo as best I could and suggested that we have an afternoon of wandering on our own so I wouldn’t bore him with traipsing around second-hand bookshops. I then went straight back to the Hotel and ran a hot bath. I had three hours to wash and dry the one pair of jeans in the universe that fit me, before meeting him later.

Unfortunately, the McPooh proved to be, just the tip of the proverbial pooh iceberg.

A weeks worth of miracle pills had finally taken hold of my large intestine and were now fully absorbed in wringing the life out of it. This lasted for the best part of two days. I eventually found an anti-pooh antidote at an English speaking pharmacist, for whom I still pray. By Boxing Day the Fear of Sudden Onset Shart was much reduced.

And to think I almost missed out. Because Prague was magical: the Castle, the mad Astronomical Clock, the ceramics – the city is incredible and all completely unlike anything I have ever seen.

We spent hours wandering around the Jewish quarter, through the cemetery and stunning memorial to the Czech’s who were murdered in WWII (the name of every person is carved into the marble walls).

I remember the  higgledy-piggeldy gravestones, poking out of the snow like an unfortunate set of teeth; the sadness and the stillness in the frozen air.

~

ps: enrolment for emBODYment close midnight Sunday. There is such a gorgeous kind, supportive group gathering, and there are still places available – is one meant for you?

come on in, make yourself at home, can i get you some tea?

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32 bantering wittily

three days inside the zero circle

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5 bantering wittily

soundtrack to your life | susannah conway

One night in Summer 2006, I found a blog called Ink on My Fingers. This English bird called Susannah had written about the apathy of grief – how we go through a stage of wondering what the point to anything is. I had just written those words in my journal and so I was intrigued …

12 bantering wittily

a road trip made of big sur magic

Thirty-six hours ago I woke up in San Francisco. Expecting another blistering hot day, I was dressed and up before the sun got too excited. I had breakfast at Sam’s Diner, and then on the Metro stairs to Union Square, a slightly bewildered looking chap showed me his penis (all I could think of was: …

7 bantering wittily

wearing flowers in my hair

I’m sunburnt and my whole body is happy-sore from a long day of exploring San Francisco. The hills, the harbour and the painted wooden houses makes it all feel like very familiar, very Wellingtonesque. I spent around three hours mooching my way down to the Pier. Lunch was clam chowder and crusty bread. Magic. Haight-Ashbury …

8 bantering wittily

semi-random thoughts from under a flower moon

On Thursday night at almost 11pm, I walked out of my local tube station, the clouds parted and there was a massive, full moon. It felt auspicious. I was a little teary to be honest. Thursday was my last day of my day job contract. I am free FREE AT LAST! Free to do and …

7 bantering wittily