I am writing this with all the love in my heart. 

All along, I have felt there is no outrunning this virus. Despite being careful, I figured eventually I would get it, especially working in a busy doctor’s office with people coming in and out. On Tuesday, I woke up achy. My temp was 100.0. It felt like a cold that I would normally have thrown some ibuprofen at and soldiered through, but we are in a new era and so I got tested. 

It was positive. 

Kids were both negative. Husband was negative too. Tested myself again. Confirmed, positive.  

I knew what to do. 

I made a telehealth appointment with a doctor that prescribes Ivermectin. Ivermectin is a cheap drug widely used in many parts of the world, for parasites, and it is also amazingly good at stopping the replication of the Covid-19 virus. Taking it early stops Covid-19 from progressing, but even late stage it is helping people. (There are also reports that it is helping people who have been injured by covid-19 vaccines). 

By 7PM that same evening I took my first dose. My family also started on it prophylactically. 

My fever never went above 100.1. 

My O2 saturation never went below 94, and mostly stayed 98. 

It’s felt like a flu, but not a horrible flu. Headache, mostly just run down, wiped out, a little foggy & weak feeling, sensitive eyes. 

By Friday I felt pretty good. Today, I am still a little weak, but okay. I still have a cough. It will be a week tomorrow. 

I continue to quarantine in my bedroom 

There has been a lot of time to think. 

During the first days, fear crept in a couple of times, what if it gets worse? Visions of horrifying news stories and FB posts of people on ventilators made their way into my mind. 

And I reminded myself, I am okay. I have prepared for this and I am doing all the things I know to do. I never let myself stay in the fear long. 

But my heart hurt for people who have fed themselves mainstream news every day for the last year and a half and then find themselves ill. What must it be like for them to experience this? The fear a big monster, looming over them as they are feeling sick. How hard must it be for the body to heal with that kind of stress on top of the illness?

Sitting in my bedroom by myself day after day has been challenging emotionally. We are a touchy feely family with a lot of physical contact. Not being able to hug my loves, (including the dogs) has been hard. And I have cried for the people isolated in the hospitals, unable to be comforted by their loved ones. It is criminal. I wept for what my father-in-law went through for three months before he died, not of covid, btw, but under barbaric lock down restrictions. 

I wept because I just felt crappy and the world is currently nuts and I needed to acknowledge that and let it out a bit. Tears heal. 

And I am also feeling deep sorrow for those not informed of Ivermectin. People whose doctors let it get so bad they need to be hospitalized before ever treating them in any meaningful way. For those who lost loved ones that might have survived had they gotten this game changing drug early. My heart breaks, that the masses have been terrorized and tortured for a year and a half, when there ARE treatments that can stop the disease in its tracks. How many have suffered needlessly? How many have died needlessly?    

Fauci, on his pedestal, ignoring Ivermectin, laser focused on vaccines, the money making endeavor, that is proving to NOT have a lasting effect as variants sweep through the VACCINATED and unvaccinated alike. 

Boosters forever. Cha-ching. What a boon for pharma. 

He did the same thing with the AIDS epidemic. Withheld safe, effective treatments instead pouring everything into new expensive drugs which turned out to be toxic and ineffective.

Please go watch Dallas Buyer’s Club. TODAY. 

Please, for the love of God, be done worshiping this man. 

If we are so concerned about stressing our hospital systems, then WHY ARE WE NOT OFFERING KNOWN EARLY TREATMENTS AND KEEPING PEOPLE OUT OF THE HOSPITALS?

Now I hear some state medical boards are going after doctors for prescribing Ivermectin, this safe and effective drug, because it is being used off-label for Covid. We use off-label drugs every day in this country for countless conditions. Using something off label is not a crime. What IS a CRIME is that Ivermectin isn’t being given to the masses. 

I’m sure there are some on this feed who feel I deserve to have gotten covid because I chose not to vaccinate. If that’s you, I pray for your soul. 

I made an informed decision, not to take part in an experimental vaccine with no long term safety studies. Vaccines brought to us by the most corrupt industry in history, with no legal liability for any damages their products inflict, short or long term. I chose this based on thousands of hours of personal study over the last 18-years. This virus is real, and it is no joke. It is up to each person to decide what is right for them. If you choose to vaccinate, I understand. I’m not telling anyone else what to do. If you choose to judge me, that’s on you and your conscience, between you and your God.

I tested positive on Tuesday, and by Friday, I was mostly okay. I continue to improve every day. Hopefully I will now have robust, lasting natural immunity. I swear to you I am not feeling cocky about this. God only knows how this will effect me in the future, and I pray that my family continues to stay safe, and that yours does too. No matter your medical choices.

I write this ONLY to offer a different view than the one you are being bombarded with by mainstream media, and to offer HOPE for those that might be afraid. There are early treatments that can help, and you have a right to know about them and to insist on them. 

During the course of this illness I’ve ventured outside each day for some sunshine on my face. I’ve taken a slew of supplements. I’ve done gentle yoga stretching every day. It doesn’t have to be as terrifying as the mainstream media would have you believe, especially if you get early treatment. Don’t sit around and wait for it to get worse. Don’t accept this. 

I love you all, even those of you who choose to vilify me for my choices. I know that isn’t who you really are, it is your pain, your fear, your inability to control the world right now. I get it. 

But we’re all one. We’re all going to the same place when we’re done learning here. Every single one of us.

May you be well.  

May you be at peace. 

May you remember, I am your friend. 

Out on my morning walk, I look up and seemingly out of nowhere a pedestrian appears about 50 yards ahead on the sidewalk, walking in the same direction I’m going in.  

I am irritated. 

This part of the walk is irritating in general, it is a small stretch on a busy six-lane road. I’m only on it for about five minutes, as it connects me from one gated Florida neighborhood to the next, where I walk in little bubbles of peace, (so spoiled) with hardly any traffic at all. 

But there she is. 

She’s not walking fast enough for me not to gain on her. 

If I run, I could pass her by quickly, but it is hot-as-hell and I’m not running. I do not have the right bra on for that. 

She’s going almost my pace, but a teensy bit slower. I don’t want to scare her as I come from behind her. I wish she wasn’t there. I either have to slow down, or I have to awkwardly walk beside her at almost the same pace for a while before passing her. 

With the social isolation of Covid-19, you’d think I’d welcome seeing another human on the path. Am I getting so used to being alone, I don’t even like people anymore? 

Wouldn’t a healthy response to seeing another person be gladness?

But lo, I am not glad. 

A spiritual teacher, and I can’t remember who, said something like:  

“When you are in traffic, and irritated with the traffic, remember that you too are the traffic.” 

I laugh at myself. Here I am, thinking it’s all about me. As if I have more claim to the sidewalk than she does. How very U.S.A. of me.

All this time I’m slowly gaining on her.  

Taking a new strategy, I look at her. Like a person, not like someone who is in my way.

She’s preppy. She’s wearing shorts and a polo shirt. She’s got a pony tail. She’s probably about my age. No. Maybe older. Maybe 60. 

I ease in with some metta, in my mind: 

May you be peaceful and happy. 

May you be free from harm. 

May you be as healthy and strong as you can be. 

May you live your life with ease and well-being. 

That felt pretty good. From there, I continue: 

May you and everyone you know and love be safe from Covid-19.  

May you have the gift of taking many deep breaths today.

She’s now 25 yards ahead, oblivious I am behind her. 

From here I can see she’s got brown hair with honey colored highlights.  

May your hair come out exactly how you want it, every time you go to a salon.  

I add: 

May you eat delicious and healthy food. 

May you feel good in your clothes. 

Still gaining on her. No longer irritated. 

If you are hurting in any way, may you be consoled. 

If you are afraid in any way, may you feel held and supported.

I’m committed now, and on a roll.   

May your car never break down! 

May you always have health care!

May they never stop making your favorite Ben & Jerry’s flavor! 

May your inner dialogue be kind. 

May you be free. 

I’m really gaining on my new friend.

May your day be filled with laughter.

May you never be without a good book.

May you find a good and trustworthy handyman to fix all the things that need fixing in your home at a reasonable price!

I’m ten feet behind her, she glances over her shoulder, notices me, and then, suddenly I’m at my turn, I’m going right, but she’s staying straight. As I head into my neighborhood I look back, thinking,  

Bye! Sorry about my attitude earlier!

(Not that you knew anything about it). 

Thank you.


The new monthly Flow Writer Drop-in class starts on Friday, August 21 at 4PM. Mark your calendars for the third Friday of every month!

This class is a taste of the 4-part series. Come monthly, or drop-in as you like. No obligation to sign up for the series. Flow writer dabble. Would love to have you join us as we move and breathe and write and share (only if you want to) and grow.


These are some of the things I saw yesterday:

The ocean. Calm, hardly any waves.

A motor boat with an American flag on top, zipping past across the water.

A man asleep on a bench. His belly big and round in a too tight, dirty, light blue t-shirt.

A mural on a wall with bright colors featuring the round and joyful faces of children.

I saw a couple in wedding attire, at 7AM. Posing for photos. Her dress white, she wore flats. Her two attendants wore red. She walked into the dirty public rest room at the beach in her wedding dress. I worried. For her dress. For her future. And I wondered, are they just starting their day? It’s awfully early. Or did they get married yesterday, party all night, and this is why she’s lackadaisical about dragging that dress into a filthy, bathroom? (If you know these bathrooms, the floors are usually covered in a combo of wet dirt and sand). I’ll never know.

I saw a group of about a dozen black bicyclists. They were men and women, so beautiful, and fit, and friendly. A few of them bid me good morning as they sped past and over the intracoastal waterway.

I saw boats in the water. They looked dreamy from far away, but from above on a bridge I could see that was fantasy. They were rusty and beaten up and did not look romantic. There was an industrial feel to them.

I saw a bunch of women taking a Zumba class in the park. A middle-aged man (my age)walked by and referring to the class across the way did a little Zumba dance with a twinkle in his eye as a nod and hello to me as he kept going.

I saw a group of homeless people hanging out, having what seemed like a party. Sitting on a public wall, they were loud, greeting each other. Hugging. One man, or was it a woman? In a tank top, he/she/they released huge plumes of cigarette smoke into the air, social distancing the least of his/her/their concerns.

This was all before 8AM.

As writers we tend to notice things. We hang back and observe. We catch the flicker of sunlight through the tree leaves. We notice the timber of a person’s voice. Many of us keep an active notebook going of little tidbits, gems we pick up on the road to save for later. Writing requires mindfulness.

This act of observation is true of yogis as well, but it is more of an inward focus. When we practice, when we meditate, we do our best to stay in the moment. We tune into our bodies, so we can notice our feelings, our emotions, and not let them have their way with us so much. We practice and practice and we fall down and we blow it, and we get back up and keep coming back to the mat, back to our breath. Noticing. Breathing. Falling. Feeling. Practicing mindfulness, trying to be present.

Where does this emotion land in my body?
What does this scene evoke in me? How can I bring the visceral feeling it gives me to the page so a reader might feel it too?

Writing and yoga both help me process being alive. If I go too long without either, I feel out of sorts.

Both help me find more compassion for myself and for others. For me, they go hand in hand.

This breath in.

This breath out.


If you are inspired to, I hope you will join me in a 4-part Flow Writer series at The Sattva Wisdom Center, starting July 12. Early bird discount ends July 6th. Sign up here.

Screen Shot 2020-06-26 at 9.17.53 AM

One of the benefits of teaching online during this time of Covid-19 is I get to connect with people from all over. Those I would normally never be able to teach due to geographical distance are now in my classes and I love it. I am in South Florida but since the shut down, people from North Carolina, NY, Massachusetts, Ohio, Oregon, Texas, California, Washington, (I hope I’m not forgetting anyone), have come to my classes, and it has been amazing. Zoom classes have proven to be quite accessible for most. I still have a few clients that are hesitant to try it this way but they are really missing out. Even the sense of community that forms in a studio is starting to happen. My students from all over are recognizing each other, greeting each other before classes. I love it. Of course it is okay to pop into the Zoom room at the last minute if what you are looking for is a more inward experience and you don’t feel like talking. Maybe you have not yet had your coffee, lol. You are the boss of your yoga experience. Always.

I offer private, semi-private, and group classes. I offer small private classes for families or groups of friends. I will work with you to give you the experience you are looking for.

I love my 55+ clients. I love beginners.

I am in love with helping people get in touch with their true selves, via yoga.

It is a great blessing to me that I can continue to teach during this pandemic.

Hope you join me!




Teaching yoga online has been an opportunity to learn and grow. My style of teaching is not demo centered. I prefer not to do the whole class in front of a camera, but to observe my students so that I might be truly present with them, hold space for them, and guide them. I want to see them.

Rather than relying on using my body to show, (which I’ve never done too much of, it’s not how I learned) I am relying on my ability to cue more clearly. If I am doing the practice with my students, I am not really there for them 100%. Example, I can’t see their down dogs, if I’m in down dog too.

This is just personal preference. There is no right or wrong way to do yoga, or to teach yoga. There are those that might argue demo is the way to go.

Teaching online was really confusing at first. Each person in their own little Zoom box is facing a different direction. Some of the cameras flip the screen so it is mirrored. Everyone isn’t moving in unison. Ack!

There are usually one or two yoga teachers in each class I teach. At first, I attempted to cheat and watch them, to get my bearings, my lefts and my rights correct. I figured they knew what they were doing. But here’s the thing about yoga teachers. They do their own thing. They are the least likely ones in class to be doing what you tell them. So that backfired. lol

Better to watch the students more closely as you find your way.

About two weeks into online teaching I realized I was getting really anxious after classes. Really doubtful about whether the class was good. Whether the students were happy. Had I done something wrong? Said something wrong? I didn’t understand, because I never feel like that after teaching live classes.

The next day, I told a joke, and the dead silence of my students (who are on mute to avoid clashing background noises) hit me. That’s it! I am not getting feedback from the students. It is hard to read the room when you can’t hear them. When you can’t necessarily see all their faces.

I’d been teaching this group for years, and I knew they’d think what I’d said was funny. (Trust me, I’m hilarious). So I did a pivot in my mind, and decided to think,

“They laughed. They totally laughed.”

And it really helped.

This incident gave me insight into what it must be like for my daughter who is on the autism spectrum, to never know how what you said landed. To not be able to rely on social cues for feedback. It cracked my heart open a little more.

A couple of months in, I’ve got the hang of it now. I am enjoying teaching from my bedroom, seeing all the dogs and cats, the living rooms and guests rooms and patios of my students. It’s strangely intimate, at a distance.

We un-mute at the beginning and at the end of classes for that real-time, if not in-person connection.

I look forward to the day we can all be in the same physical room. I look forward to a day when it is okay to hug again.

This world has gone mad, but we have the yoga practice to sustain us. We find our way back to ourselves on our mats, over and over again. It is my great honor to be able to guide students in this way, and I’m so glad that for now we can do it online.

Mercy to the humans.

This breath in.
This breath out.


My current online schedule:

Tuesday: Gentle Flow 4PM EST
Thursday: Full-Soul-Ahead, prayer infused Vinyasa (more vigorous) 9:30AM EST
Sunday: 1PM EST Flow Writer, Self-expression through yoga & writing

Register here.

*Photo is my of my sister, in her Zoom box. She was practicing with me from her attic loft. I’d mentioned our late grandmother in the class, and how she always said,

“Go in the Light that is given you.”

And then…this.



man in red shirt holding blue book

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Not reacting, but assessing a situation and then… making a measured response. Or choosing not to respond at all.

We don’t need to take the bait.
We don’t need to attend every argument we are invited to.

We don’t need to finish everything we started if it no longer resonates with our soul’s intention.

We don’t need to people please.

We don’t need to explain ourselves.

You know in your gut when someone is inauthentic. Don’t talk yourself out of knowing it. 

In yoga, if what the teacher is suggesting doesn’t make sense for your body, you don’t have to do it. Maybe you make an adjustment.

Variations of each pose exist. One is not better than another.

Moving the hips higher, or the feet back a smidge might make it better. Might make it worse. Take some pressure off the wrists. Activate your thighs. It’s okay to explore. To be present and discerning in each pose. And in each transition. 

Your teacher will guide you, but you are the boss.

What feels right? In this moment.

What do I need right now? More? Less? 

What about now?

Stillness is the key.

Calm down. 

You know what to do.

You do.


This breath in. 
This breath out. 


My schedule this week: 

Tuesday: Gentle Flow 4PM EST
Thursday: Full-Soul-Ahead, prayer infused Vinyasa (more vigorous) 9:30AM EST
Sunday: 1PM EST Flow Writer, Self-expression through yoga & writing

Register here.






Ilonka Michelle O'Neil

“And now I’m serving time for mistakes

made by another, in another life time.

How long til’ my soul gets it right?”

-Galileo, Indigo Girls

The theme this week at Sattva Wisdom Center is Karma. And boy is it a loaded one! Diving into it there are so many directions one could take, but I will be keeping it simple in my classes. Karma is action and reaction. The more conscious we are in our lives, the more we will reap what we want to sow.

This week, I enjoyed listening to a podcast on Karma with Vinny Ferraro. I’d never heard of him before, but he is a Dharma teacher who sounds a bit like Andrew Dice Clay. (Lots of F’s, which happens to be my first language, so I felt right at home, though I never curse in the classes I teach).

Some things I gleaned from listening to his talk:

We can use the concept of Karma as a way to judge or blame ourselves and others. Or we can use it to empower ourselves and take responsibility for our actions, past and present.

We cannot go back and change the past, (and forget it with previous lifetimes?) but we would do well to make amends where we can, right now, and to never underestimate the healing power of a heartfelt apology, both for the giver and the receiver.

We can, as my grandmother used to say, “Go in the light that is given us.” We know what is right and what is wrong. We can do what is right in this moment, which will absolutely affect the future.

Collectively we cannot expect to plunder the earth’s resources, to take more than our share, and have no consequences for it. Nor should we use the concept of Karma as a way to dismiss the suffering of others.

The concept of Karma is so vast, but at its most basic and manageable we can tune into our hearts and move through our days practicing Ahimsa, making every effort to do no harm.

That will put us in good stead.

We don’t have to make it so big, and so complicated. We are all works in progress, and can do the next right thing, on the way to becoming more of who we want to be.


My schedule this week: Eastern Standard Time.

Tuesday & Thursday: 4PM Gentle Yoga
Thursday: 9:30, Prayer Infused Vinyasa Flow
Sunday: 12PM (note time change for this week only) Flow Writer, Self-Expression through yoga & writing

Register here.







In 2016, I was rear ended when I stopped for a pedestrian at a crosswalk. The car behind me didn’t break. My car was totaled. My neck injured. It’s been a long road.

While lucky I wasn’t more severely injured, the accident did result in me being in a lot of pain, for a long time. I’d never lived with chronic pain before, and it really opened my eyes to what people who have it feel like. For me, it was as if there were a leak in my life force, I was being drained of my energy…this pain that wouldn’t let up. It made me less patient. More cranky. More reactive. That went on for a couple of years.

I tried a lot of different things. Injections. Procedures. PT. Everything helped a little, and I got to the point where I wasn’t in pain all the time. But if I did Vinyasa yoga, I would be in quite a bit of pain for at least three days after. Finally my wonderful physical therapist told it to me straight. With my injuries, which were permanent, (skeletal stuff) that kind of practice was no longer a good idea. It would likely always cause me pain.

It was a blow. It’s what I loved. It’s what I taught. Something really important was taken from me. My identity and my “winning personality” took a hit for a while.

Over time, I have found other ways to move and breathe and even flow, but I wasn’t able to take a vigorous yoga class. Not without a lot of pain after. I’ve been practicing and teaching really gentle classes for a few years now. I’ve learned a lot. It’s been good for me as a student and as a teacher. I no longer have chronic pain every day, though it still comes and goes, depending on what I’ve been doing.

But recently, via classes with Francesca Cervero, I have learned a new way to flow that doesn’t hurt me. I’m excited to share it. Starting Thursday I am going to be teaching a more vigorous (prayer infused) Vinyasa flow, minus the chatarangas, and with a lot less forward folds. Maybe your body will like it too.

If you have shoulder or neck pain, if you’re sick to death of chatarangas but you love to flow, I hope you come try my new Full-Soul-Ahead! class on Thursday AM’s at 9:30EST at Sattva Wisdom Center. Starts this week!

I love Vinyasa.
Love shouldn’t hurt.

This breath in.
This breath out.

See you in your little Zoom square. Can’t wait!