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At the gym, a handwritten sign invited patrons to pick up a felt pen and mark their choice on a whiteboard: 1. Relive 2025. 2. Skip ahead to 2027. Four marks beside the first. Eight beside the second. What struck me was not the count, but the absence of a third option, like an invitation
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And so am I, full with the imprints of time and memory. I am rich in soul, yet I’m hungry for more. It’s not a feast I want, I keep my appetite for all things in moderation, but I want what singer Sam Garrett wants, “More life, more blessings; more peace, more unity.” It’s
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Breath is yoga’s song and yoga is a breathed form of spirituality. Breath and yoga are threads connecting your soul to the world. It braids the yogi here and now to a light not bound by this world. Your breath in yoga is your yoga song; it is rooted within the body electric in a
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Days up in the trees are coming to a close for Debbie and I. We’ve done zero to 61 in about 30 days. That’s not a measure of speed but a marker of age for the people we hold dear. To be exact, it goes from six months to 61 years. Here, a short video
GREGORY ORMSON'S Notes, Articles, Blogs, Vlogs Gregory Ormson writes from the ecotone, the vibrant intersections of landscape, spirituality, and physical presence. His essays and poems have appeared in literary journals, anthologies, and print magazines. Author of *Yoga Song* and other works, Ormson blends lyrical observation with grounded reflection drawn from his Midwestern roots and global travels. He lives in Arizona and Wisconsin, seeking stillness where stories emerge like bears. 