Blog Posts and Media

https://kripalu.org/living-kripalu/how-cooking-ayurvedically-nourishes-body-mind-and-spirit

https://kripalu.org/living-kripalu/healing-power-ayurvedic-consultations

I recently completed my Grief Coach training, and as I reflect on this next chapter of my work, I find myself thinking about my namesake and the story of the holy river I was named after. In the mythology of the Goddess Kaveri, her story begins with King Kavera, who was blessed with a daughter he named Kaveri by Lord Brahma due to his good deeds to his Kingdom. He married her to Sage Agastya with the agreement that he would never leave her alone. When the sage needed to go to

Yesterday, I was journaling between clients and found myself turning to Ayurveda to better understand the experience of grief. Many of my clients have been navigating this emotion, and I feel a deep sense of empathy given my own recent experiences with loss. I have come to see grief as the shadow aspect of love. Love is an emotion, and emotions are energy in motion. When that energy does not have expression or a container to receive it, it can begin to stagnate within the bod

Centered in the sacred void. Being led by the Divine Feminine, not pushing or striving. Softening, holding and releasing as the womb of Mother Nature does. Walking the spiraled labyrinth instead of the linear path. Dancing along with the messy chaos rather than waiting for it to end. Receiving and cultivating the bounty, not producing it. Accepting, allowing and embracing connection is my medicine. Slaying that which longer serves me, while cultivating new growth from the ric

https://jonorsini.substack.com/p/your-ayurvedic-type-how-to-live-in

https://kripalu.org/living-kripalu/kripalu-recipe-ayurvedic-golden-milk

https://www.simplyrecipes.com/indian-spices-that-boost-lentils-vegetables-and-grains-11907501

https://kripalu.org/living-kripalu/kripalu-recipe-ayurvedic-one-pot-red-dal-spinach

When I was 25, I was living in Boston with my boyfriend when we got into a big argument. The kind that cracked something open in me. I yelled, I cried, I felt everything all at once. Whenever things felt overwhelming in that relationship, I would drive back to my parents’ home in New Hampshire. It was my place of refuge. That weekend, still raw from the argument, I sat down with my parents and shared what had happened. Somehow, in that moment, my father and I began talking ab