What the leaves are trying to tell us…

What the Leaves Are Trying to Tell Us

There's a certain light that shows up in Maryland right around now. Softer, a little gold at the edges, like the sky knows something is about to change. The equinox is almost here, that one day a year when light and dark hold hands as equals before dark takes the lead again. And every year around this time, I feel the same pull: something must go before something new can come in.

So, this week I cleaned my room. Not the surface kind of clean. Top to bottom. wasn't just tidying, I was making space, the way you'd clear a stage before the next act walks on. There's something almost ceremonial about it when you let it be, opening the windows, letting the old air out, laying down fresh linens like you're setting an altar instead of just making a bed. I wanted to receive the equinox instead of just letting it pass by while I stepped over a pile of laundry.

Fall has always felt like the season of the edit to me. Not an ending, an edit. You keep what's working. You let the rest fall, the way the trees do it, without drama, without apology. A leaf doesn't hate the branch when it lets go. It just knows its season changed.

Some things have been shifting at home lately too, the kind of changes that quietly rearrange the furniture of your life even when the actual furniture stays put. I won't pretend that's been simple. But I've been trying to move through it the way I'd move through a yoga class, one breath at a time, trusting that not every season needs to be explained to be honored.

The parts of fall that ask nothing of me, though, those have been pure gold. Jude and I made a trip to the Renaissance Festival, and watching an eight year old lose his mind over a brownie sundae and a maze  is its own kind of therapy. He wants to go every weekend it's open, and honestly, so do I. There's something about a whole village built around pretending, minstrels and mud and swordfights, that feels like the most honest thing we do all year.

We also caught a Maryland game together, our first one as just the two of us in the stands. Jude loved almost every second of it, the flags, the band, the big collective roar when something good happened. If you asked him, the only thing he didn't love was how loud the students got. My sweet, sensitive boy, covering his ears through the fight song and still cheering his heart out a minute later. We loved the pageantry of it all. There's something very yogic about pageantry, all that ritual and color and collective energy pointed at something bigger than any one person in the crowd.

Speaking of ritual, Sunday night class has a new time. We're now meeting at 7pm at Soccer Plant (9050 Red Branch Road), still under the disco lights, still exactly as low-pressure as it's always been. Come as you are. However your week has gone, whatever you're letting go of or holding onto too tightly, the mat doesn't ask you to explain yourself. We meet you where you are, every single time.

So that's fall so far. A cleaner room. A turkey leg. A stadium full of noise my son mostly loved. A season quietly rearranging itself at home. And a Sunday practice that keeps meeting me exactly where I am, at 7pm now, under the lights.

Whatever you're letting fall this season, I hope you let it fall gently. And I hope you'll come blossom with us on Sunday.

Come as you are. Blossom as you're meant to.

Victoria

Softness

Hello my friends!

I hope everyone is enjoying Leo season so far. Whooo. It is spicy already.

So much has been going on! I spent a really lovely week at Rehoboth Beach with my family last week, and there is something about sea air that makes me just… relax.

I took naps. I said no to things. I moved my body the way it wanted to be moved. I bought a new body pillow and a new candle, because I will never not enjoy a new candle smell.

Beach hair, French fries, sand, ice cream and rest were the themes.

I don't want to be like every other midlife lady and say there is something special about your 40s, but there really is something magical about your 40s.

You lose the need to say yes to everything and start realizing that you are your own best friend. Your own lotus roots in the muck.

And you start to understand that where you put your precious energy matters.

The people you spend your time with. The commitments you make. The yes that softens. The space you leave for the things that actually matter to you.

Our Sunday night community yoga has been so rewarding, and I hope it has been for you too. Soccer Plant was awesome enough to step up and host us, and you can really tell when people are good people. That community is not dead. Kindness exists.

We practice our asana in very little light, with the disco lights as our stars.

Each week, I choose a music lyric that I think embodies the spirit of yoga. This week's was Lauryn Hill:

“Don't be a hard rock when you really are a gem.”

I think so often we put up hard exteriors, especially now, with so much going wrong in the world.

And that's not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes those walls keep us safe.

But when we soften just a little bit, even if it's only for an hour-long asana or a 10-minute meditation, we begin to realize just how much energy goes into maintaining the solidity of our outer shells.

I practice yoga because I know it might be the only time in my day that is completely mine.

So I'm curious…

Why do you feel called to the practice?  

See you Sunday night at 5:25 at Soccer Plant, 9050 Red Branch Road Columbia, MD 21045.  Please feel free to reach out anytime with questions or comments about anything!  I am here!  

Much love and light 

Victoria 

The Universe is awesome!

Hello, and welcome to Late Bloomer Yoga.

I’m Victoria, a yoga teacher, lifelong learner, music lover, preschool teacher, creative soul, and someone who has taken the scenic route to becoming who she was always meant to be. I am also a two-time transplant recipient. The kindness of two strangers inspired me to give back when I can.

The name Late Bloomer Yoga means a lot to me. I did not arrive here through a straight or peaceful path. I have lived through deep grief, trauma, illness, loss, and more than a few moments that completely changed the direction of my life. I have fallen apart, rebuilt, fallen apart again, and somehow continued moving forward.

Yoga did not erase what happened to me. It gave me a way to sit beside it. It taught me how to breathe when life felt impossible, how to stay present when my mind wanted to run away, and how to find strength without becoming hard.

Eventually, I realized that I wanted to share that feeling with other people.

Late Bloomer Yoga was created to make yoga welcoming, accessible, and real. You do not need to be flexible. You do not need expensive clothes. You do not need to understand Sanskrit, have a quiet mind, or know what you are doing. You simply need to arrive as you are.

I truly believe that yoga can help make the world a kinder place. If more people took the time to breathe, listen to their bodies, practice compassion, and recognize the humanity in one another, the world might not feel quite so terrible sometimes.

And honestly, our current administration is a nightmare, so we need peace, community, courage, and clear minds now more than ever.

My goal is to give back through yoga by spreading world peace one breath and one pose at a time. That may sound ambitious, but peace has to begin somewhere. Sometimes it begins with a person rolling out a mat, placing their feet on the earth, and taking one full breath without judgment.

Outside of yoga, I love sewing, painting, learning new things, eating good food, laughing until my stomach hurts, and spending time with friends and family. Music is one of the great loves of my life. I love listening to it, talking about it, discovering it, and especially seeing it performed live. There is nothing quite like standing in a crowd while the music moves through everyone at once. To me, that is another form of connection, meditation, and healing.

I have been through a lot, but I made my way here.

Now, naturally, I would like to save the world.

Not through grand speeches or pretending that I have all the answers, but through movement, breath, laughter, compassion, community, and reminding people that they are still worthy, even when they feel lost.  Although I do tell a great story.

Thank you for being here at the beginning of Late Bloomer Yoga. I hope this becomes a space where we can learn, breathe, heal, laugh, question, move, and grow together.

Come as you are. Blossom as you’re meant to.

Much love,

Victoria