#until i sit then it goes to around 90. laying down its back to 60s. but not sure i can trust an old fitbit. its probably wrong

[autisticlee]

I stopped marking anxiety on medical forms where it asks what i've been diagnosed with in the past because I experienced every doctor telling me all my problems were anxiety and getting no help. except trying to convince me to take anti anxiety meds (tried once and made me have constant panic attacks and I only slept i think 5 hours in a week and was having hallucinations and stuff. never again!!!) but when i'm having heart rate increase with palpitations and shaking and dizziness and sweating and weakness and completely exhasution and feeling out of breath, nausea, and etc, it happens without the anxiety brain symptoms. I just stand up and it happens, even if head empty. but doesn't happen if i'm layijg down and worrying about a thing?? not sure if I should try talking to a doctor about it again and hope not marking the anxiety box helps, or just assume i'll be told it's anxiety again and not waste my energy..........

[thanatosangels]

the Life of Lucie

Lucie Herondale au request by @daisyherxndale - thank you so much!! this was so fun to write!! <3

tagging: @churchthecatismyspiritanimal @fairchild-squad @truth-lies-hidden @princesslucretia @abigneignenn <333

Lucie was never quite sure why she didn’t age and die.

James did. She supposed he was always more like Papa though, in looks and personality. 

She’d never forget him dying. She’d already lost Cordelia the year before, and the emptiness in her soul was still a ragged, open wound. And then James had taken ill. He lay in the infirmary of the Institute, and Uncle Jem did everything he could to save him but they could only numb the pain. She had sat with her still youthful hand holding his wrinkled one, their mother holding his other on the opposite side of the bed. He had been so frail then, but still blazing with his playful exuberance until the very end. He died, surrounded by love. As Will had done.

And Jesse… Jesse’s death was still too much for her too think about

She’d watched the love of her life, the one she’d brought back to this life, grow old and fragile until he died peacefully in her arms. She’d watched as time took over his features in a way that it never did to hers, as he’d retired from battle due to the aching of bones that she never experienced, as he started to forget where he’d left his glasses, or that their children had left home years before, when she remembered everything so clearly. She never loved him any less. One cold, wintery morning, when frost dusted the grass and the robins wittered just outside the window, she awoke nestled into him, just as cold as the air outside, in their bed.

It was like someone cutting canvas with a knife, clean and vicious: there was life before Jesse, and there was life after.

It was all something of a blur, the week following his death. The funeral, the kind but distant words, the looks on their children’s faces. She understood, only then, why her mother had left for Paris after her father’s death. There was something so inherently wrong about being somewhere your love had once been, once sat, once ate, once laughed. She couldn’t even look at the face of her grandson, the one who had his eyes and his hair. She just had to leave.

So she did. She went, and she found her mother, and they lived together in New York.

She’d never aged a day past twenty, but that didn’t mean she would never die. She half-expected - half-hoped - to go to bed one day and never wake up. But everyday she saw the sun rise and heard the chirping of the pigeons and smelt that early morning New York river-water smell and watched the mundanes hurry down the streets on their way to work. She envied them. They were so secure in their knowledge of the word, wrapped up in their own little lives. She was so lost, an anchor cut free of its ship, sinking rapidly to the bottom of the pitch black ocean.

The rest of the 60’s passed like water through Lucie’s fingers. Tessa helped her through her grief, made sure she ate enough and drank enough and made her laugh even when she felt like her heart was being crushed into oblivion by grief’s unyielding fist. Her mother showed her New York, told her stories of the city she once knew and loved, and of how it had changed. Her mam had seen a great deal since Will’s death, Lucie realised, and a small fire of hope ignited itself in her chest. I will rebuild myself.

One day, a few years after Jesse, they sat in the booth of a small, dingy diner. They made idle conversation, people watching and giggling as they often did, until Tessa sat back against the red leather seat and stared thoughtfully into her coffee. Lucie recognised the twitch at the corner of her mouth, the one that meant she was trying to decide whether to say something or not.

“Mam, what are you thinking?” Lucie narrowed her eyes.

Tessa looked at her, her big blue eyes soft with love, and smiled a sad little smile. “I think you need to write again.”

Lucie was taken aback. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

She thought of the only time she’d tried to write since Jesse. It was a dark night, not long after she arrived in America, and she was sitting at the small, ink-stained desk in their two bedroom apartment, fingers hovering over the keys of the familiar typewriter she’d brought with her from England. Writing had always been her reprieve, fiction her escape from the crushing reality of the real world, and she wanted nothing more than to escape then. But no words came to her. No stories weaved themselves together in her head. No heroine painting herself to life in metaphors and similes. There was simply…. nothing. 

Lucie tried to think of typing out a story, or writing another book, without having Jesse to read it over and give her critique or chastise her for saying ‘very’ one too many times. She tried to imagine writing for hours on end without having him bring her cups of tea just the way she liked or staying up, reading in the armchair next to her desk until well past midnight, just so they could go to bed together. She remembered the air leaving her lungs as a scream of anger - at the world, at Jesse for leaving her, at herself for still being alive - built within her, her mother running to restrain her as she viciously  punching the keys of the typewriter over and over again, her hands balled into fists and her nails piercing the skin of her palms. She had collapsed against Tessa, the livid energy suddenly leaving her, and they sank to the floor together. She cried into her mothers arms until she had no tears left, until the hazy relief of sleep took her in its grasp and showed her dreams far better than this life.

“No.” Her mouth was in a hard line. “No, I can’t.”

Tessa took Lucie’s hand across the table. Lucie met her eyes. There was such hope, such faith, such belief, in her gaze that Lucie’s mouth quirked up at the corner ever so slightly.

“Yes you can.”

And she did.

Lucie left New York - left her mother - as the new decade rolled in. She didn’t stay in one place: she followed her Daisy’s footsteps and went to all the places she’d once lived: Paris, Bombay, Morocco, Cape Town, Canada. All the while, she wrote. She wrote of the girl with fire for hair and more strength than anyone she’d ever known. She wrote of the boy with the sun in his eyes and the night sky on his head. She wrote of the boy who lived twice but loved once. She wrote of the boy with burnt clothes and lilac eyes. She wrote of the truest love she’d ever known, between a boy with a compass tattoo and a boy with spears in his pockets. She wrote of a blonde boy, the bloodied and battered angel. She wrote every story that lined her heart and her soul, and as the 70’s faded into the 80’s, she was thankful she had. Her mother had told her memories start to fade to black and white, like a forgotten photograph, when you live forever, but her words captured her memories forever in their original, colourful glory. 

She spoke to her mother as often as she could, and she always sent her postcards from her latest destination. Her mother would travel too, and she would keep Lucie up to date on the Downworld wherever she went. Lucie kept away from the Downworld, mostly. She had no interest in fighting any more, and the Clave seemed to have forgotten her existence, but she did carry a small axe in her bag at all times. Old habits die hard. 

At the start of the 90’s, she got word from Tessa about unrest surrounding the Accords.

I feel as though we are about to witness something terrible. She had written. Lucie, please stay as far away from Idris as you can. 

And she did.

It was a long few months before she heard from her mother again. She told her of the war, and the bloodshed, and the death. She told her of Stephen Herondale, their own flesh and blood, killing innocent Downworlders as if there were no demon blood in his lineage. Lucie had cried.

But life goes on, and it did. Lucie went back to London, for the first time. She walked passed the Institute that had once been her home, and the grand houses that had once belonged to her friends and family - now hotels or flats or just gone completely, as if they’d never stood at all. She took a trip to Devon to walk past Cirenworth Hall. She felt closer to Cordelia, in that moment, than she had in years, and the faded parabatai rune on her chest seemed to throb like the beating of a second heart.

In 1999, she went back to New York. She walked passed the Institute there too - although by chance this time - and caught sight of three people walking towards the entrance. There was an elegant woman with black hair down to her waist, just as her Aunt Cecily’s had been; a tall, burly man who’s stature painfully reminded her of Thomas; and a small baby, wriggling in his mother’s arms. He seemed to sense Lucie’s presence and twisted around to look at her. His eyes, his hair, his nose, even his tiny mouth…. he looked exactly like Alexander had, when he was a baby and she was just a girl. She tore her eyes away, the world a smudge of watercolour through her tears, and hurried on down the street.

More time passed. Lucie wrote another book, this one about a girl with long brown hair and sparkling grey eyes who would never die. She would live to see every sunrise, every sunset, every star in the night sky twinkle and die, everyone she ever loved go where she could not join them. But she could also read every book, and see every country, and learn every language she ever wanted to, and see every new wonder of the world. She could keep her loved ones with her and carry them wherever she went, both in her mind and captured in the battered old photographs that were her most prized possession.

2008. Lucie’s phone buzzed on the coffee table next to her. She was in Glasgow. The setting sun was casting long shadows across her little one bedroom flat as she had her head in a book, her newly cropped hair brushing against her chin. She’d spent quite a bit of time here: it felt like London, but not so much that it hurt her, just enough to feel like home. The historical buildings that were scattered around the city centre reminded her of herself, in a way. Their well-kept exteriors remained the same as they had been the hundred or so years ago when they were built, but their interiors were updated and changed over time, revealing new secrets or harbouring new treasures.

She picked up her pink mobile and looked at the text that flashed across the screen. Then, with the swiftness that a Shadowhunter can never quite lose, she jumped over the back of her sofa and darted into her bedroom. Hastily, she shoved some clothes into a backpack, grabbed her wallet and keys and ran out the door. She hurried through the streets, not paying attention to who or what she was bumping into, only focused on getting to the train station. She arrived, panting, paid for a ticket to London, and hopped on a train.

She kept reading the text over and over again. 

COME TO LONDON ASAP. MEET YOU AT EUSTON. MAM.

When the train finally arrived in London Euston station, Lucie was the first person off the train. She  stood on her tiptoes and looked around the crowded platform wildly, her short hair flying every which way. Finally, she spotted her. Her mother. She was standing near a wall at the edge of the platform, wearing a dark blue cardigan that was almost the colour of Will’s eyes, and scanning the crowd. She began shoving people aside, using knees and elbows as weapons, until she broke free of the tangle and ran towards her mother. 

When Tessa saw her daughter, an immense smile broke across her face, like the sun parting the clouds. Lucie flung herself into Tessa’s open arms, and they stood a second or two, just embracing. 

Lucie stepped back first, her concern painted plainly across her face. “What’s wrong, mam? Why did I need to hurry?”

Tessa was still beaming. “Actually… nothings wrong, bach.” She turned to face the man standing a little way from them, one Lucie hadn’t noticed before. “Somethings actually very right.”

Lucie narrowed her eyes and looked at the man. He was tall and thin, and his hair was straight and dark brown, almost black, with a single streak of silver at the front. Something about his kindly face, his dancing eyes, the small smile on his lips looked so… familiar. He almost looked like….

She took a step forward, her eyes widened in astonishment. “Uncle Jem?” She questioned softly.

Tessa was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, radiating with excitement. Lucie had never seen her mother like this, so full of life, not in the 71 years since Will’s death. She was gazing at Jem with complete adoration, and he was smiling at her with such gentleness that Lucie’s heart ached, with happiness for her mother but sorrow for herself. She missed love.

Jem looked at her, his brown eyes soft and happy. “Hello, Lucie.” He gave a small wave and put his hand out towards her, clearly inviting a handshake. 

But Lucie Blackthorn didn’t do handshakes. She covered the distance between them in two strides of her short legs and flung her arms around him: her head only reached his chin. He seemed taken aback, but hugged her tightly anyway. 

“Oh, Uncle Jem!” She squeezed him. “It’s been so long!”

He chuckled and stroked her hair. “I know. And yet, we three have barely aged a day.”

She stepped back, and took Tessa’s hand. “I don’t quite understand what’s going on, and I have so many questions. How did this happen? Once a Silent Brother, always a Silent Brother I thought, but is that not the case?” She looked at Jem. “When did you come back? Oh! I do hope you told me immediately, mam. This is a miracle after all, and you know how I hate to miss miracles.” She was talking so rapidly that her words seemed to be falling over one another. Jem was just nodding slightly, looking bemused, and Tessa was trying not to laugh.

“Come on,” Tessa gave Lucie’s hand a quick squeeze and took Jem’s with her other. “Let’s go get a coffee and I’ll explain properly.” 

As the trio began to make their way through the station, Tessa began to speak. “It is yet another story of Lightwoods and Herondales and Fairchilds…”

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday Reissue: The Heart Attack

Note: This is a repost of an older Stay Golden Sunday that had to be redone for housekeeping reasons.

Sophia becomes very ill one night and is convinced she’s going to die. The Girls confront the idea of mortality.

Picture It…

The Girls bid farewell to their guests as a storm rages outside. They praise Sophia for the meal she cooked for everyone, and Blanche says it was even better than the food she ate in Italy. The Girls tell Sophia to take a load off in the living room. They start the dishes in the kitchen, while Rose talks about her family’s Scandinavian cooking.

Back in the living room, Sophia says she’s got a “bubble” of pressure in her chest. Rose thinks it might be gas, but Dorothy says her mother isn’t looking so good. Blanche goes to call the doctor. Sophia clutches her chest as the bubble turns to pain. Dorothy lays her down, while Sophia worries she could be having a heart attack. Blanche says the doctor was out, so she called the paramedics.

DOROTHY: Ma, you know, you don’t look good. SOPHIA: I’m short and I’m old. What did you expect, Princess Di?

The two discuss their family’s deaths – which include a fall from a donkey and misfiring a gun while taking out the garbage – to rule out the possibility of heart disease. Blanche and Rose talk about how death should come without pain or illness, getting sidetracked until Dorothy shuts them up. They go to make coffee, while Sophia begins to worry she’ll die. She starts giving Dorothy instructions on what to do after she’s dead, and says Dorothy was always her favorite, even if she never showed it.

In the kitchen, Rose and Blanche discuss death. Rose says her family members live to their 90s and 100s, which Blanche attributes to the Minnesota cold slowing down the aging process. They also discuss cremation vs burial: Rose wants to be buried with all her sentimental items, while Blanche wants to be buried in Arlington Cemetery because it’s full of men. Sophia tells Dorothy she loves her. When Rose and Blanche return with the coffee, she thanks them for keeping her company. She decides to rest while Blanche goes to call the paramedics again.

BLANCHE: Do you want to be buried or cremated? ROSE: Neither! BLANCHE: What do you want to be, flushed down the toilet like a goldfish?

Rose tells Dorothy it’s probably not a heart attack, as she’s seen one and they’re bigger. She recounts Charlie’s heart attack to Dorothy, which happened while they were making love (she told Arnie this back in Episode 3, but this is the first time she’s told one of the other Girls). She dressed him before emergency services arrived, and his last words were that he loved her. Blanche returns and says the paramedics are held up by the storm, and they’ll just have to wait… and pray, as Rose adds.

The Girls crowd Sophia, who wakes up and tells them she had a near-death experience and saw Heaven. She describes seeing her husband and asks Dorothy to get her rosary. Blanche’s main interest is if there are lots of men in Heaven (which… why wouldn’t there be?), and eventually goes to help Dorothy. Left alone with Sophia, Rose bugs the crap out of her by recounting farm stories.

BLANCHE: What about men? Are there lots of men in Heaven? ROSE: Oh Blanche, come on! BLANCHE: Well you asked her about God and Jesus!

In Sophia’s room, Dorothy’s going through Sophia’s things, looking for the rosary. She tells Blanche that she’s not ready for Sophia to die, and that she’ll still feel like an orphan at her age. She breaks down in tears at the thought, and Blanche comforts her by saying Blanche and Rose are her family too, and they’re there for her.

In comes Dr. Harris, presumably Elliott’s replacement as their house-call doctor. He inspects Sophia and finds her side is sensitive, so he asks her what she ate recently. The girls list a truly disgusting amount of food, including scungilli, fried mozzarella, and two boxes of Milk Duds. Dr. Harris says it’s not a heart attack, but more likely a gallbladder attack from overeating. Sophia is instantly relieved, but takes back what she said about Dorothy being her favorite now that she’s not dying.

Later that evening, the Girls minus Sophia (who’s presumably resting) talk about mortality in the kitchen. They question the reason they worry about things like dieting when they’re going to die eventually – a thinly veiled excuse to eat some chocolate cake and ice cream. They do eventually get turned off of the dessert when they realize that, while they are going to die eventually, they’ll feel the negative effects of overeating immediately, like Sophia did. They decide to go out for a walk (one hopes the storm is not still raging), and Blanche brings it back around to her favorite topic:

BLANCHE: Let’s go for a walk. ROSE: Right, burn it off! DOROTHY: Are you kidding? After what we ate, we’d have to walk to Canada. BLANCHE: Oh, Mounties! I love Canadian men!

“You couldn’t say ‘belch?’ What is it, a Viking curse?”

This is the first episode that centers around Sophia, and given the multiple references to her age and health in the preceding nine episodes, it’s fitting that it’s about a health scare. Estelle Getty, who has mostly played comic relief up to this point in the series, gets her shot at carrying the dramatic half of an episode – and she definitely delivers.

To be a little real with you, this episode has been hard for me to watch the last few years, ever since my mother died. She was the one who introduced me to Golden Girls, and episodes like this hurt both because I know now she and I will never have that Dorothy-and-Sophia rapport in old age like I always assumed – my mom was not even 60 when she died – and because I was basically in Dorothy’s position at the time. If I could have chosen a quote to describe the months of my life after my mother died, it’d probably be this one:

DOROTHY: It doesn’t matter. You lose a parent, you might as well be six. It’s scary. And it pushes you right up to the head of the line.

I appreciate that, when confronted with the possibility that she might die, Sophia’s not accepting or serene even though she’s very old. I think there’s a perception that, when you get old, you just have to accept that you might die soon and be okay with it because you’ve “lived a full life” or some such nonsense. Instead, Sophia outright says “I’m not ready” and that she’d take even one more day of life.

I leave it to other shows to try and teach people to accept death with grace. I prefer Golden Girls’s way, which is to say “Screw that,” and portray the octogenarian matriarch as not wanting to die. There’s something very real in Sophia saying she never really thought she would die.

SOPHIA: 80 years old, and it would come as a complete surprise.

There’s quite a bit of real-world backstory to this one, too. Originally, it was intended to be broadcast live, which is why it’s the first episode since the pilot to take place entirely within the confines of the Girls’ home. According to Golden Girls Forever (quite a treasure trove), NBC had done a live episode of Gimme a Break and attempted to replicate its success with a night of live shows, ostensibly to promote Saturday Night Live. Golden Girls would have been one of about five shows to air its episodes live.

At first all the other shows were onboard, but then showrunners protested the final offering of the night, a detective show called Hunter, couldn’t be filmed live. So the live plan was scrapped. Director Jim Drake remembered it as being for the best, since the actresses weren’t really equipped to do the show in a single live, continuous taping. While their shows were filmed in front of a live studio audience, they still had the option of doing multiple takes. Somewhat relevant, but here’s a video of Golden Girls bloopers:

The other real-world issue that influenced the filming of this episode was one that also cast a pall over the previous episode – the death of Bea Arthur’s and Betty White’s mothers. But while it seemed to throw off the chemistry of the previous episode to a certain extent, if anything it helps this one. There are differing accounts as to whether Rose’s monologue about Charlie’s death was drawn from the deaths of White’s mother or her husband, Allen Ludden. I suspect it’s a combination of both, but you can see she’s genuinely crying while talking about it.

My only real criticism of this episode is that the final scene doesn’t really seem like it’s attached the rest of the story. The Girls talk about their own mortality, and how the fact of dying makes things seem trivial. They don’t even mention Sophia, despite the rest of the episode revolving around her. It feels like a discussion they might have after a friend died – or, more accurately, a scene inserted by a writer who wanted to opine about death for five minutes.

That’s not even mentioning the fact that the way the Girls behave in this scene is very at odds with the rest of the episode. It’s just strange to me that they’d come to the conclusion that, since they’re going to die, they might as well gorge themselves on rich food, when doing so is the exact reason Sophia had a gallbladder attack – and they just heard a doctor tell her that.

Regardless, this is another great Susan Harris episode, and the first episode that puts Sophia front and center. While it’s a bit melancholy there are enough jokes interspersed throughout to keep it from being a downer.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰🍰 (four cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

The Girls crowd around a sleeping Sophia (see the image at the top of the article), and she wakes with a shout, scaring them all. When Dorothy asks her what’s wrong, she says:

SOPHIA: What? You’re sitting on top of me. I open my eyes, I see pores like that, I think I’m on the moon!

[dakotahiggins-blog1]

I “It” can be defined as travel, yoga, life, etc. Here at The Road Les Traveled, we couldn’t agree more. I could write for an entire lifetime trying to define yoga and there will always be more to learn. Maybe this is why yoga can feel like an impossible or intimidating feat. I find beauty and comfort knowing that I don’t need to run full speed ahead because there is no finish line to cross. I hope this read inspires you to roll out a mat, move in a new way, or begin your very own yoga journey. Let’s treat this introductory course as an appetizer to a bottomless buffet where any and everyone is welcome.

Wherever you are, find a comfortable seat or stance. Focus on the physical connection to the ground below your feet or your sit bones. Allow the energy from the earth to transmit to and tingle at your feet.  As you inhale, envision the energy traveling through your body…up your spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. Hold at the top.

Exhale… soften your belly.

Drop your shoulders from your ears. Release your tongue from the roof of your mouth. Soften the space between your eyebrows. Begin to deepen your breath. With every inhale, imagine your breath filling you up from the bottom to top like a glass of water…starting at your feet bubbling all the way through the center of your body to the top of your head. As you exhale, follow the air flow as it trickles down your center line. Allow your thoughts and physical tension to waterfall away with your breath that empties all the way down to your toes. Inhale….. fill up fully. Exhale….. let it go.

Welcome back. Let’s swan dive in. 

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Who can practice yoga?

YOU. Congrats. You just connected your mind, body, and breath and therefore completed a moment of yoga. Yoga is both a universal and personal practice. Every single human being is capable of practicing yoga. It is as accessible as air. The use of props (magical little tools in the form of blocks, straps, blankets) are equally beneficial for seasoned yogis who want to deepen a pose and beginners who want to modify a pose to create more space.

Similarly, it doesn’t matter what inspires you to roll out a mat. If a 30-minute savasana is the name of your game or if you want to get upside down because you saw a picture of a pretty blonde in a handstand on a tropical island…POWER TO YA! I firmly believe this practice will give you what you need, even if it’s not what you were looking for. Yoga and life. Quote me.

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What is yoga?

Yoga is the union of physical, mental and spiritual practices originating in India 5,000-10,000 years ago. It’s not a religion, and it has little to do with looking better in a bikini, although sure, that’s a perk I suppose. In its purest form, yoga is raising consciousness on all levels.

There are many styles of yoga with Hatha yoga being the umbrella term for any type of yoga that teaches physical poses. Other styles include (from less physically demanding to more physically demanding) Restorative, Yin, Ashtanga, Bikram, Iyengar, Vinyasa, Hot Yoga, the list goes on….

Where to begin?

Without being too open-ended, you can begin anywhere. Seriously. Yoga can look like laying on the floor with your eyes closed listening to your breath for 5 minutes. Roll up your mat and call it a day. It can look like a 90-minute sweaty, dark room with intense breathing and chanting. The most common places to practice yoga are a studio, an online platform, or at home without guidance. The only way yoga will stick is if it feels good in your body, so it’s important to find your practice. 

I heard your requests and will soon be sharing some yoga classes on my YouTube Channel. Until then, here are online platforms from my yoga teachers – Rachel Brathen & Lara Heimann. Ode to the 2 warrior women with very different styles, but similar and contagious love for movement. They carved me into the yoga teacher I am, and I will be forever grateful for my t2 teachers, 23 days, 52 sisters… and endless amounts of chickpeas my Island Yoga YTT gifted me.

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When should you practice yoga?

You do not need to roll out your mat at 5 AM every day to be a ‘good’ yogi. I like to practice on an empty stomach or a few hours after a meal. First thing in the morning or pre-dinner. But, you can also catch me with my legs up the wall in an airport or shoulder rolling through an airplane aisle. To each their own, but if you’re going to a studio spacem, the most packed classes will probably be between the hours of 7AM- 11AM & 5PM-7PM.

Find the WHY

If I haven’t yet convinced you to give down dog a go, below are the black and white (and pink) facts of how yoga can benefit your mental and physical health:

  *Spoiler alert* The mind does not shut off. Mine doesn’t at least! If you’ve cracked that code, please feel free to share with the class. Even if I don’t remember my dreams, that sucker was running through the night! The goal of yoga is not to shut off your mind, but instead to turn the volume down.

In my own practice, I like to imagine my thoughts like clouds… stay with me. When I was little, I would watch the clouds with my grandma for hours. First I bring my awareness to my breath, then I imagine watching my thoughts come and go like clouds in the sky. Become the viewer of your passing thoughts without running with and/or holding onto any thought for too long. Store the ones that serve you and let go of those that do not. Allow them, for a moment, to occupy your sky. Name the shape, then wish it well on its journey out of your head.

6 Tips to Inspire a Positive Yoga Practice

Arrive early. Hi, I’m Lesley and I am perpetually 5 minutes late to everything EXCEPT yoga. You know that look you get from the lady at the airport gate when you’re the very last one to board the plane with sweat dripping down your body and one too many personal items? Well, that does NOT compare to the guilt you feel tiptoeing through the intro of a yoga class and asking a very peaceful yogi to scooch over. Learn from my mistakes… arrive fifteen minutes early, get a good spot, introduce yourself to the teacher, and be the peaceful yogi for the class intro, not the panicked one

Practice around. Try multiple studios, different teachers and varying styles until you find a teacher you resonate with. It took me not one, not two, but three classes to actually enjoy a 60-minute flow.

Dress comfortably. There is nothing worse than wearing a shirt that falls over your head every time the teacher cues ‘down dog.’ Wear comfortable clothes that hug your body enough to let you flow freely without worry.

Leave your phone far away from the mat. Most yoga studios have cubbies or lockers to leave your belongings. Be sure to turn the sound off and tuck your phone away. The only thing more awkward than arriving late to class is having your phone ring VERY loud during savasana. If you’re practicing at home the temptation is very real, but all the distractions will still be there 60 minutes later, I promise.

Leave expectation in the cubby with your phone. The teacher, the flow, the speed, the music, your neighbor’s practice, your own ability…. the list goes on. This one is easier said than done. To be honest, I’d like to say the more you practice, the easier this becomes…but that simply isn’t true.

Listen to your body. Allow a teacher’s words to guide you, but your body is the best teacher. A good yogi is one that listens to their body…even if some days look very different than others. My absolute favorite yoga pose involves closed eyes, nature, and 2 blocks supporting me and a lot of relaxing. If something hurts, take it easy. If something feels good, go further. If you like the song, DANCE. Your mat, your practice, your body. The reason we turn the mind’s volume down is so you can hear what your body has to say.

FREE YOGA ALERT! In addition to the guided meditation at the beginning of this post, I’m breaking down Sun Salutation A a.k.a Surya Namaskara (SOOR-yuh nah-muh-SKAR-uh)  + 6 easy poses to ease you into yoga or just inspire you to move  

Tadasana: Inhale, raising your arms overhead with a neutral pelvis. Reminder not to flare your ribs here and allow your shoulders to come away from your ears. Greet the sun!

Swan Dive: Exhale, hollowing our your belly and connecting down into the earth.

Forward fold: Allow gravity to take over. Note that a slight bend (or even deep bend) in the knee here is welcome.

Halfway lift: Inhale and lengthen your spine with a lifted gaze and a flat back. 

High plank: Exhale, planting your palms at the front of the mat, shoulder width distance apart while stepping your feet into plank pose at hip width distance behind you.

Chaturanga: Keeping your legs straight and pushing into your toes, lower down 1/4 of the way towards the floor similar to a low push-up.

Cobra/Up Dog: With an engaged core, flip your toes and keep your thighs off the mat while pushing the ground away beneath you with straight arms. Carve your chest forward. Note to keep your shoulders away from your ears and open your collarbones. Relax your glutes. Option to also put your knees on the mat here.

Down dog: With an engaged core, lift your tailbone towards the sky, press into the palms of your hands while pressing your thighs back. Create lots of space here. Note that a healthy bend in the knees is very acceptable, and nobody ever said your feet must touch the mat. 

Walk to front of the mat

Halfway lift: Inhale and lengthen your spine with a lifted gaze and a flat back.

Forward fold: Allow gravity to take over. Note that a slight bend (or even deep bend) in the knee here is welcome.

Reverse swan dive

Tadasana

Some Favorite Poses

Child’s Pose

Cat

Cow

Bridge

Heart opener: Camel pose

Savasana

Your Turn! Tell me about your yoga practice below!

To read more about yoga, check out My Yoga Teacher Training at Island Yoga and Favorite Yoga Mats!

The post A Beginner’s Guide to Yoga appeared first on The Road Les Traveled.

[onestowatch]

Q&A: “Country Soul” Band Whitney Talks Touring, Breakup Advice, & New Music

Spearheaded by singer/drummer Julien Ehrlich and guitarist Max Kakacek, Chicago-based band Whitney embodies an ever-evolving headspace for the two talented artists. 

Accompanied by a five-piece band, the duo self-identifies as “country soul”--an eclectic label that encapsulates their genre-defying, under-the-radar sound. Ehrlich, who began as the drummer for Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Smith Westerns, and Kakacek, a guitarist in the latter, lay the groundwork for Whitney’s melancholy-yet-uplifting sound. 

Max Kakacek helped us navigate Whitney’s winding path to present day, with a critically acclaimed Light Upon The Lake album under their belts and all seven members headlining world tours, performing at Coachella, Lollapalooza, Shaky Knees, and more.

OTW: How did Whitney initially form?

Max: We met in Oregon, while Julien was playing for Unknown Mortal Orchestra and opening for Smith Westerns. He was around 19 and I must’ve been 21. A few years later, when he wasn’t doing UMO anymore, I called him up because we had hung out, drank and whatever you do when you’re young on tour. UMO had been opening for Smith Westerns for two or three months, and so I called him up and said “Do you wanna drum for Smith Westerns?” and he said yes, so he moved in with Cullen (Omori) and slept on our couch for a while. Over the next year we became really close friends, and after Smith Westerns broke up, we were just buddies who were working on our own single projects. I was making some weird, kind of crappy solo music, and one day we made a song together, almost as a joke just messing around. It ended up being something we really liked and from then on we just started working together. 

OTW: In the early stages when Whitney first formed, what steps did you take to make sure that it remained an individual force apart from your previous work?

Max: An important thing to know is that we didn’t really sit down and have that conversation. I think that we had been out of those bands for long enough that we weren’t going to make songs that sounded like previous projects. Of course Julien’s voice is very different from Reuben’s or Cullen’s, so that was obviously an easy distinction to make. Especially in the very beginning, our recording process was very limited--they were very lo-fi, folky, country songs, and I think what inspired us was that it was so different from the stuff we were making before. But we never really sat down and had a conversation that was like, “We should go in this direction because other projects that we’d been involved in did this.” I think it was important that we never had that conversation, because that puts you in a weird headspace, comparing yourself to previous things that you’ve done. 

OTW: Understandable. So, who is Whitney anyway? 

Max: I’m not really sure at this point--it kind of changes around. When the band first started, we used the name as a way to get perspective on songs we were writing outside of ourselves. I don’t think we ever gave that character any sort of real life characteristics. It was just more of a tool for us to use if we got too close to a song, if we were working on something for a long time and lost perspective on what it sounded like, or a way for us to back up and take a look at it from afar. 

OTW: We’ve often seen you guys described as country soul or folk soul. What does “soul” mean to you in the context of your music?

Max: At the very beginning of Whitney, we were both obsessed with these weird lost recordings by people like Abner Jay and Jim Ford. The soul of the recording came from the idea that they were never found, and existed in this weird music vacuum of bands that should’ve probably been much larger than they ever became. The music was lost and people now reissue it and find it. We were pretty obsessed with that idea. 

OTW: We’re big fans of the label you guys are on, Secretly Canadian. What is it like being a part of that and how have they shaped your career?

Max: Everyone who’s a part of it is awesome, especially when we were first starting out, and they first signed us. We pretty much talked to them every day.

OTW: How did you find them? 

Max: They found us--we had a good friend that was working for them. They heard our demos and then brought us to Bloomington where the label’s based. We played a show and the only attendees were people from the label, and the next day they sat us down in this really bizarre, semi-official room, and told us they’d like to buy our record. All of us were super excited and happy, and then moving forward from there, we didn’t really have management until after the album was completely recorded. So every step of the way we were talking with them about mixes and artwork that we liked, and they were very easy to deal with without needing a manager. Whereas with a lot of labels, you need someone as a liaison between you and the label, but for us it was just really easy to talk to them and trust them. It was nice to develop that relationship very early on. 

OTW: What other band members and instruments are involved in the live show right now?

Max: Julien plays drums and sings, I play lead guitar, Print Chouteau plays rhythm guitar, Will Miller plays trumpet, Josiah Marshall plays bongos and bass, and Malcolm Brown plays keys. We’ve got a sound guy that travels with us named Charles Webb, who’s just the man. It’s been pretty much the same crew since we’ve started. No one’s left, so since day 1 of touring this has been the group. 

OTW:  Are they all involved in recording the music, or is that just you and Julien?

Max: Yeah, they are all involved. Julien and I give a rough kind of skeleton of what we think the instruments should do. Usually, a lot of songs we play live before we record them, and as we keep playing them each part kind of takes its own meaning. Everyone gets to put their own spin on what they play, and when we go to the studio, we play it the way that we perform it live. 

OTW: How has the tour been? Have you seen a good reaction? 

Max: The tour’s been great so far. We’re doing a 90 day tour--60 days in America and 30 in Europe. We started in April, and we’re almost done with the first third, where we performed at Coachella, and we did a lot of other dates down the West coast. We’ve been to the West coast three or four times at this point and we’ve made a lot of friendships, so we got to see all of our homies that we’ve met from being on the road. And a lot of us have family out there, so it’s been kind of a breeze. We all got to see Kendrick Lamar at Coachella which was amazing. 

OTW: That’s legendary. Anything in particular that you’ve learned from this tour?

Max: We should’ve known this a long time ago, but I was talking to a buddy Kevin Morby who’s also a musician, and he gave us the tip to try and drink 100 ounces of water every day before a show. So we’ve all been trying to do that, and then you can pretty much do whatever you want at night. (laughs)

OTW: Oh is that right? Has it worked?

Max: So far so good. 

OTW: You’re playing a ton of festivals in the U.S. and overseas. Are there any in particular you’re most excited for? 

Max: I think a lot of them are ones we haven’t played yet. Lollapalooza will be a homecoming show for us, which will be awesome. Osheaga I’ve never been to, and it’s legendary for certain reasons so we’re excited to go there. Primavera I played when I was 19, that’s in Barcelona and it’s an amazing festival, and right now we’re actually on our way to one called Fortress Fest in Dallas/Fort Worth, and it’s the first year of the festival. So it’ll be interesting to see how it compares to festivals that’ve been around longer. 

OTW: Now back to the album Light Upon The Lake. What song do you personally connect with the most, and which would you say you most enjoy playing live? 

Max: I think it kinda changes on a day-to-day or week-to-week basis for both, but I think “Light Upon the Lake” is the most personal to me. As far as live goes, at the moment it’s “Follow,” but again I think that’s pretty much per show, you’ll have a show where a certain song will play really well. “Polly” is usually a favorite of mine now too; that song is really fun to play live. 

OTW: I know “Polly” is a song that deals with one of your breakups. What is your best breakup advice? 

Max: Drink 100 ounces of water per day. (laughs) No, I’m joking. I’m not sure. Me and Julien are kind of going through breakups right now. We’ve had like a year of touring, and we’ve had girls that we’d been seeing and after a year of touring, things have gotten really hard. So we’re both dealing with that, and I think the vibe is to try and block them from all social media and not look at anything they post. Try to just block them from your life for a little bit before you can go back and talk to them again if you want to.

OTW: That’s good advice. So what’s next, have you started working on any follow-up to the album? 

Max: Yeah, so we just recorded a couple covers that were released really recently. Tight now we’re playing a new song live that we’re all psyched on; it doesn’t really have a name yet, we’re still figuring it out. So we have about two and a half songs done. We have three weeks off in July where we’ll be writing, and then we have all of September off, and Julien and I are going to live in this cabin off of Mt. Hood in Oregon to write. We’re starting to get back to writing, but our tour schedule is pretty hectic. Whenever we’re not on tour, we try to put our heads down and get to work. 

OTW: Who are some Ones To Watch artist on your radar that you predict will break in the next couple years? 

Max: Well she’s just gotten a lot of press and was just on tour with us, her name’s Julie Byrne--she’s a singer-songwriter and she’s absolutely amazing. When we pick opening bands we try and pick people who we think are awesome and who we’d like to get into a bigger audience, so right now we’re on tour with good friends with a band called Golden Daze. One of the guys is an old Chicago guy and went to school at the same time as I did, so we’ve known each other since then.  

[bulletproof-heaven]

Wings Cafe - Chapter 3

Chapter: prologue 1 2 3 4

Another night, another successful mission. Much to Yoongi’s dismay, Jimin chose to stay home while Jin followed the group, just in case, they needed someone with medical skills. Hoseok was stuck at the club dealing with Jihyuk’s problems as the trouble child partied. The mission only took a half an hour as the client’s abusive boyfriend was nothing but a coward. After a few broken objects, a very convincing conversation with Namjoon, and a little help from Jungkook, the boyfriend promised that he will never contact Yuji again.

The boys were super keen for late night snack as Jin unlocked the door.

Namjoon felt his phone vibrate before he checked it. There was a text message from an unknown number:

 Welcome home, boys.

“Jimin!” Jin called out while they all walked through the door, “We’re home”. All of them stood around waiting for the familiar sound of Jimin’s footsteps rushing down from upstairs to greet them; but the house was eerily silent.

“Guys, look at this” Namjoon showed them the message before Yoongi immediately took off running up the stairs. All of them followed him, searching in each room for the wide-eyed angel.

An ear-piercing scream came from Taehyung and everyone poked their heads out of the room that they were searching just in time to see the hacker rush out, laptop in hand, yelling at them.

“MEETING NOW”

They all immediately stopped what they were doing and ran towards the said room.

“This was just sent to me, it’s currently live” Taehyung connected his laptop up to the project and pressed play. Everyone didn’t even get a chance to sit down when the black screen showed Jimin lying on the ground, in a room with metal walls, unconscious.

Before anyone could say another word, Namjoon’s cell phone rang. He answered without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Are you guys enjoying the show?”.

The lady’s voice made a chill run down his spine. He immediately turned his phone on speaker and placed it in the middle of the table.

“Who are you?”

The lady chuckled, “You guys have such a lovely home”.

“Let him go” Yoongi growled.

“Hm… I don’t think I will”.

“Hyung” Jungkook said, directing their attention towards the screen. Jimin, who was still unconscious, started visibly shivering.

Yoongi snatched the phone off the table and bellowed, “What are you doing to him?”

“You have two hours until he dies. Better get cracking”.

“Hey-” The phone went silent. Yoongi let out an enraged yell and threw the phone against the wall, smashing it to pieces. His hands immediately grabbed the nearest object –the chair in front of him. He went to pick it up but Namjoon’s placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, calm down”.

He shook the hand off and seethed, “Don’t tell me to calm down! Jimin’s going to die if we don’t find him”.

“And you’re just wasting more time by being like this”.

Yoongi paused before exhaling deeply, running a hand down his face. “You’re right”.

Jin walked closer to the screen. “He’s facing the other way,” he squinted his eyes, “I can’t tell what’s wrong with him”.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon ordered, “track Jimin’s GPS”

Every single member of the group has at least one ear pierced and are given at tracker embedded into a stud earring. The trackers are undetectable by x-rays or metal detector, and is made to be basically indestructible and also water-proof. Whenever a member goes missing, the trackers are always the first step of action and it has never let them down.

“I did; location send to Yoongi hyung’s phone”.

Yoongi immediately took out his phone and keys, and started running out the door, not even waiting for anyone else.

Namjoon also started moving, “Taehyung, you stay here and keep an eye on Jimin; Jungkook, Jin, let’s go”.

Driving through the empty streets, Yoongi kept his eyes and mind focused on the road. There was a reason why he was always the driver. He had a natural talent of getting to a location that’s an hour away in twenty minutes. Sure, he was breaking tons of laws, but he hasn’t gotten in any trouble yet.

They ended up in an abandoned warehouse on the industrial side of town. The surroundings look like that from a horror move, as a chilly breeze rolled through as if a serial killer is going jump out at any minute. Yoongi parked the van and immediately hopped out, heading straight towards the entrance of the building.

“T-minus 100” Taehyung’s voice rang through the ear piece.

“Yoongi-” Namjoon started to say, shutting the door behind him, and received a glare. “Fine, Jungkook stay with the van”.

The three jumped the fence, and rushing into the eerie building. They ended up splitting up, searching all the different rooms; none of the rooms looked like the one from the video. Yoongi kicked down the third door down the hallway while Jin and Jungkook searched the other two.

The room was basically empty. There were boxes laying around, the paint on the walls were peeling, the moonlight shined through cracked windows, and the lights flickered continuously. Yoongi’s attention was drawn to a table sitting in the middle of the room. He walked up to it and saw Jimin’s stud earring and a card.

 Nice Try ~

 Anger flushed through him, making him want to send his fist into the nearest object. “Fuck”.

Instead, he kicked the table, sending it flying towards the other side of the room. Namjoon and Jin came running into the room as he walked out.

“What happened?”

“We got played; that’s what happened” Yoongi showed him the card and the earring, before heading back to the car.

“Taehyung, he’s not here.” he said into the ear piece as he hopped into the van, others following his actions. “Try tracing the video feed”.

“I tried isolating the signal but its bouncing off too many servers”.

“Keep trying.” Yoongi growled, starting the car as Jin and Jungkook watched the video from Jin’s phone. “Also check all traffic cameras around the forest, he must have been taken by car”.

“No vehicles entering or exiting the forest”.

“Damn” He slammed his hands against the steering wheel, “How the fuck did they take him without using the forest?”

“Jimin’s awake” Jin stated, “poor child”.

Yoongi turned and snatched the phone from his hands. Jimin, who was still shivering, had sat up and was looking around, very confused. He handed the phone back, slightly relaxing at the fact that the boy hadn’t started panicking yet. “Taehyung, how the tracing coming along?”

“I told you, it’s bouncing too much to properly isolate it”

“I thought you were some genius hacker!” Yoongi snapped.

“Hyung,” Jungkook cut in before the elder said something he’ll really regret, “It’s going be alright, we still have 90”

“We only have 60”

Yoongi’s head snapped towards the eldest, “What? She said-”

“He’s currently in some kind of freezer. We don’t know what temperature the room is set at but his lips are already starting to turn blue. He’ll be dead in 90 but what about frostbite? Mental confusion? If he passes out again, the hypothermia will set in faster”.

“Fuck” Yoongi immediately pulled the van away from the warehouse.

Namjoon, who had been sitting silently in the passenger, staring out into the night, and suddenly leaned forward as something in his mind clicked. “Taehyung, check all the aircrafts that passed by the forest. The government keeps a secret record”.

Finger tapping against the keyboard was hear. “Got it! There was only one plane that passed when we were gone; it was a private jet…Location sent”.

Yoongi looked at the location and immediately made a U-turn, van on the verge of tipping over due to how fast the wheel was turned. Everyone grabbed on to the car handles, fearing for their lives.

“Hurry, Hyung. T-minus 50”

The young man huffed at Taehyung, “I’m going 120 on a 60 road and there are traffic lights. Stop talking and start helping”.

“On it”.

They arrived at the location in 15 minutes with the hacker changing all the traffic lights to green so they could pass through. It was a miracle nobody called the police about a van driving way over the speed limit, not to mention very dangerously as well, swerving in and out of lanes, over-taking other vehicles.

Everyone jumped out of the van, they just needed the layout and Jimin’s location.

“Taehyung, we’re here. Do you have visuals?” Namjoon asked.

The was no response.

Namjoon and Jin looked at each other worriedly. The hacker had never stopped responding before. Even during times where the communication device was broken, the younger would always instantly find a way to contact them via hacking the nearest thing; car radio, a television, computer, PA system, anything.

“Tae?” Jungkook panicked a little before all four of them received a text from Taehyung with a map of the place and Jimin’s location. Everyone else relaxed, believing that the hacker’s ear piece simply malfunctioned, but Jungkook’s stomach churned; something is not quite right.

They all ran straight to the room that Jimin was held in. Yoongi opened the door and saw the boy still sitting on the ground, slight shivering but not as violently as before. Namjoon noted how odd it was that to door wasn’t unlocked or that there were no guards to keep Jimin from escaping.

“Hey,” Yoongi kneeled down before wrapping his jacket around Jimin and held onto him tightly, trying to transfer some body heat. He looked up at Yoongi, eyes a bit unfocused, before bursting into tears. Jin kneeled beside the two of them to check the boy for any injuries or see if they needed to get him to a hospital. However, what the med student saw was strange; usually it would take a lot longer for the body’s core temperature to rise but the boy’s lips had already returned to their normal pink colours.

“Shh” Yoongi rocked him and boy in his arms side to side, soothingly, “You’re okay”.

“Okay, help Jimin up,” Namjoon states urgently; there was something very wrong with this situation, “Let’s get out of-”

“Fifty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. No wonder you guys are the most requested service in the underground world.” A lady from the phone call walked in clapping. Everyone’s head snapped towards her. “You sure exceeded my expectations. I thought your group of eight was going to be a group of seven”.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Namjoon reached to pull out his gun.

“Ah ah ah” The woman sung, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you”. She snapped her fingers and a man in a military uniform came through the door with Taehyung, a gun against his forehead.

“Taehyung.” Jungkook gasped before growling, “Let him go!”. He quickly analysed his boyfriend: he didn’t have any wounds or bruises. He did look a bit dazed so Jungkook assumed that they used chloroform or some type of incapacitating agent.

The lady just ignored him. “Put the gun on the ground and kick it over here”

Namjoon slowly bent down, lowering his gun to the ground. Before he placed the gun on the ground, Taehyung grabbed the soldier’s hand and directed the gun towards the ceiling. He elbowed the man in the face before taking the gun, pointing it at the man lying on the ground as Namjoon aimed at the lady.

The lady sighed, “I knew this would happen.”

Suddenly, red lasers appeared on every single one of them. Snipers.

“I’m not going to repeat myself”.

Namjoon and Taehyung both placed the guns on the ground and kicked it towards the lady.

“Okay, you got us,” Namjoon stated, “What do you want from us?”

“We want to kill you”.

He let out a dry laugh, “You and I both know that’s not true. If you really wanted to kill us, you wouldn’t have kidnapped Jimin and made us go on this wild goose chase; you would have just stayed at the mansion and shot us when we walked through the door...”

The lady smirked at his explanation, clearly impressed at how he could analyse the situation so clearly under pressure.

“…And you said ‘we’ so you work for an organisation of some sort, who?”

“We are the government, and- ah, nice of you to be able to join us, Hoseok”

Hoseok walked in, escorted by another solider before being pushed towards his group. He stumbled a bit before turning to face the lady with a frown.

“As I was saying, we are the government and we would like for you to work for us”.

He let out his signature snort as if the red laser wasn’t pointed at his forehead, “No thanks, lady”.

“Oh, I’m sorry” The woman looked a bit surprised, “that wasn’t meant to sound like a question. You guys don’t have a choice.”

Namjoon laughed, “I think we do-”

“Kim Namjoon, the leader, twenty-two, IQ 148, married Kim Seokjin three years ago, twenty-four, the mother of the family, current med student.”

He clenched his fists, hearing their information pour out of her mouth. How did they get their files? The clients? No. The clients don’t even know all of their names, let alone what they’re studying.

“Min Yoongi, twenty-three, second-in-command, best illegal street racer till this day. Park Jimin, twenty-one, current dance student, owner of Wings café, guns specialist but dislikes killing, and is prone to panic attacks.” She stared straight at Jimin and mocked a pout as he wiggled in Yoongi’s embrace, tears welling in his eyes.

“Park Jihyuk, Jimin’s foster brother, twenty-one, currently passed out at the club from alcohol. Jung Hoseok, twenty-two, chemical engineer, ‘a literal ball of sunshine’ who was admitted into Marley Mental Institution by his own parents”. Hoseok’s face whitened; he thought that part of his life was completely hidden away.

She looked towards the last two, “Jeon Jungkook, nineteen, the muscle of the group, mixed martial arts since the age of five, current business student. And finally, Kim Taehyung, no blood relation to either Kim Namjoon or Kim Seokjin, twenty-one, hacker, current IT student”.

“And there’s a lot more information where that came from so no, you don’t have a choice”. The lady took a deep breath after finishing, “We’ll be in touch with the details soon”.

The whole group stayed silent, waiting for the next move. She also stood there, waiting.

They spent several moments simply staring at each other before the lady realised, “Oh, you can go”.

The group snapped out of their staring conversation, the lasers were no longer point at them. They can what?

“Shoo now,” She waved dismissively, “Just don’t try and leave the country, you’ve all been restricted”. And with that she and the military guards left, leaving the group stunned.

Everyone, except for Jihyuk who was still at the club, hung around the living room. Jin had volunteered himself to take the sobbing boy up to take a bath; Jungkook and Taehyung cuddled up on one side of the couch while Hoseok occupied the other. Namjoon paced the width of the room as Yoongi just leaned against the side of the couch. They all stayed silent for the longest time before Yoongi exploded in anger.

“How the fu-” He caught sight of Jimin, who just walked in and curled up on the couch, “-hell did they know where to find us?”

He eyed the younger boy, hair still wet, dressed in his sweater and pants, to make sure that he wasn’t still crying.

“We give clients our address all the time, someone must have leaked it” Hoseok shrugged.

“But they knew everything about us” Jungkook added on before mumbling, “I didn’t even know you’ve been admitted into a mental institution before”.

Jin waltzed in and clapped his hand, capturing everyone’s attention, “It’s late. Everyone go to bed. No arguments.”

One by one, they all filed out of the room. Yoongi passed by Namjoon, whispering, “I know you’re thinking the same thing as me. We have a rat”.