
April’s Energies 2026
By Natalia Alba
Post on March 30, 2026
Beloved Ones,
The Inner Voice Gide Us Into Strength and Self-Trust

Post on March 30, 2026
Beloved Ones,

Post on March 30, 2026
Lately I’ve been exploring ideas around how to bring more simplicity to taking action, tackling tasks, doing everything I have to do in a day.
It can be so overwhelming, we procrastinate, we overcomplicate.
What if it could be simple?
In this article, I’ll share some ideas I’ve been exploring to bring more simplicity to everything I do in my day. The ideas won’t work for everyone, but I hope they’re valuable to you in some way.
One thing I’ve been noticing is how often I’ll rush from one thing to the next, leaving a bit of a mess behind, or leaving something unfinished, in my rush to start the next thing.
A phrase that’s been resonating for me is “complete the moment.”
What that means is to not rush to the next thing before I’ve completed what I’m doing. For example:
If I slow down and let myself complete what is called for in the moment, then I can move on to the next thing with a sense of completion and peace.
Also, it’s so much nicer!
If you look at your task list or email inbox, it’s probably way too long to finish this week, let alone today. It’s overwhelming, and if we try to tackle it all, we’re likely to be jumping around from one thing to the next in a frenzy.
What’s been resonating for me is the phrase, “Just this.”
What that means is that I pick one thing to focus on, and forget about everything else. Easier said than done, I know! But it’s a practice.
So I clear everything away, and just have one thing in front of me. I give it my full focus, as if it were completely worthy of full attention. I breathe, and put myself into it.
It’s very simple, and very meditative. This isn’t a forcing, but a simplicity that’s refreshing and calm.
As I’m moving through my day, I like to remind myself, “No need to rush.”
As a Zen practitioner, you might think I’m always calm and I move slowly. Not so at all! I really like to move quickly — if I’m cooking or cleaning the kitchen, you’ll hear cupboards banging about, and I’m moving around like a whirlwind. It’s fun!
So I have to purposefully slow myself down. I find it challenging but really nice. No need to rush. What am I in such a hurry for?
There’s always a handful (or more) of hard tasks on our lists that we like to procrastinate on. They get pushed back, and pile up.
I like to remind myself, “No need to run from this.”
What that means is, this isn’t something that’s as hard and scary as I might think. It feels like I need to run from it, because I have fear, or I’m overwhelmed. But when I notice I’m about to run, I just remind myself that it’s not necessary.
Then I turn toward the task and breathe, and just take the first step as simply as I can. This too, is a meditative act.
How many of us have a browser with ten thousand tabs open? What about an email inbox overflowing and overwhelming?
I like to remind myself, when I have so many things open or piling up, to clear things out. It helps keep things simple.
Some examples:
This isn’t about being perfect, or stressing out if there’s a pile of things. But if I take a little time to clear things out, my life feels so much simpler.
I find it important to take a little time at the beginning of each week and each day to plan.
I think it’s also important to create a little space to reflect. What have I been doing, what’s worthy of celebrating, what am I putting off? What’s blocking me? What am I learning? I don’t have to reflect on these every day, but if I spend just a couple minutes every day reflecting, my life becomes much more sane and simplified.



Post on March 29, 2026
Overcome burnout and reignite creativity with yoga, meditation, and honoring energy cycles to co-create joy with Spirit.
I’ve always been bursting with creativity. When I was little, I hosted game shows in my living room, convinced my cousins to be my backup dancers, and launched new craft projects like it was my side hustle. (I actually tried to sell my parents a picture from second-grade art class for two dollars. They didn’t buy it). What I remember is how immersive it all felt. My environment would narrow to a single, sacred space where my work and I seemed to dance with God.
There’s a magical mystery wrapped in sparks of inspiration. Creative ideas don’t come from us so much as they move through us. And it goes beyond a simple painting or poem—it’s how we rearrange a room, solve a problem, or combine the exact right words at the right time. Creativity is life in motion.
When an idea comes to us, it needs a way to come alive. Humans are the only species that can bring form to the formless; our bodies are active participants in creativity. One time, an idea for a textural art piece, a new creative adventure, came to me, and I was swept up by the overwhelming urge to spend too much money on art supplies. I bought a tub of spackle (which got everywhere, by the way) and made eight canvases of glorious squiggles. My body had taken over the control panel.
I have always been a fast-paced, outgoing person who made time to be creative, even with a full-time job and regular gym habit. But after years and years of constant motion, my body couldn’t keep up. Ambitious, imaginative, a bit quirky—and completely depleted.
Burnout is depression’s little brother, and I became a family friend to both. Fatigue took up residence in my bones. Simple tasks demanded high amounts of energy. My temper was short, my brain was foggy, and creativity was elusive.
I tried to pick up a paintbrush. Nothing.
I tried to start an interesting project at work. Disaster.
I tried to make new friends. Crickets.
There wasn’t a single breaking point but moments that built up like snowflakes into an avalanche: crying in the ladies’ room, doomscrolling on social media, canceling another get-together with a loved one. One friend mentioned to me that it seemed like I was always going through a rough patch. Ouch.
This is where I finally paused and wrestled with the idea of slowing down. Wellness had become a chore, and ambition had become an obsession. My body, spirit, and mind were crying for help. The way I had been living wasn’t working. Finally, I had to learn to rest.
I say learned because resting is beyond a simple good night’s sleep. I was introduced to the idea of “energy givers” and “energy takers.” I thought about what inspired me and gave me a breath of fresh air versus what stole my time, energy, and joy. I dove deep into the roots of my stress, reexamined my relationship to the word busy, and learned to set boundaries. True rest is preserving your energy on a mental, physical, and emotional level.
I felt as if the more I nourished my body, the more spiritual input I could receive. I was tuning the dial to a creative frequency and bit by bit, my imagination returned. She dusted off the shelves so ideas had a place to stay and freed up space in the living room so God and I could dance together once again.
I started to live creatively again when I became a yoga instructor. I had been practicing yoga for years; it was one of the practices I used to recover from burnout. Breathwork, meditation, and asana fell into the “energy givers” category. But teaching? That required a new mindset, and between you and me, I was scared it would put me in a burnout spiral.
To serve others, I was going to have to serve myself and stay tuned in to a greater power. My wellness practice became the foundation of my creativity. Rest, yoga, meditation, and seeing the flow of the world helped me co-create with Spirit in ways I couldn’t before.
Yoga helps me move new energy through my body—and find grace off the mat, too. Meditation has taught me stillness to listen to God. Rest is a non-negotiable way to relax my nervous system and surrender. Seeing life as a cycle has taught me how my body and creativity move through ups and downs.
Living in a way that supports creativity doesn’t just generate good ideas; it’s helped me find more joy in the world around me. I’ve slowed down to enjoy what has already been created for my pleasure. Honey is sweeter, the stars sparkle, and I see magic in the mundane.
If you’re longing to see the world with fresh eyes, here are the practices that helped me create space:
When you create, you’re not only expressing yourself—you’re expressing the Divine. It’s the most fruitful way God can work through you. When the body is strong, sparks of inspiration can catch fire, and then you can delight in the creative act of simply being alive.
Jayde Kolb