what am I even doing
the blog
August 1, 2026
AI is bullshit. But damn does it help you write when your brain wants to do the exact OPPOSITE. Not like I can’t write. Like it’s been legit AGES since i’ve sat & put pen to paper, or fingers to keys. And even now, it feels intimidating. Alas, We carry on.
I’m hoping this reads as a journal. Maybe a weekly update. A reason to keep writing about the big, the small, and everything in between. A record of emotion & thought. A single moment in time. Maybe even material for a book one day. Thats the poetry - the words part - if you will. Think a little love letter complete with - Here is my life this week - Here is some shit I wrote - & scene.
So what IS the rest of it? …The rest of it is a way for me to feel like I’ve done something with my life, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, a book would be hella cool. But right now, I’m a yoga teacher, and I’ve been told a pretty good one at that - so why not capitalize on what I know? The rest of this site (up top where you see the word Yoga), is maybe just maybe what I want to be when I grow up. (I said maybe - I’m only 40 - who knows when I’ll decide).
The YOGA part - that’s where you come in. Or where anyone who reads this comes in. It’s where I’m offering a little piece of my soul & skill set to help you dive deeper into yours. Yin, Restorative, Vinyasa, or Hot 26 (Barkan) yoga brought to you in form of - Private sessions (local to myself in the Hudson Valley, NY), Online sessions, & Group Experiences (think birthdays, girls night, bachelorette, corporate wellness). Whatever it is, I’ve got you.
So what am I even doing? I think I’m starting a Poetry/Yoga website (business?) - a place to showcase my writing that will hopefully one day have a NEED to be published, while also offering my services out to the world to help them grow in their yoga practice. Will it work? I have no clue. I went from being a corporate and government award winning executive assistant - to a Yoga Teacher who peddles words to those who want to read them. When did THIS become my life? No FUCKING idea. Will I make it? I damn well hope so.
Honestly, I can guarantee you that my dad was asking the same question (see picture above), as he sat in a daze, covered in baby bodily fluids and meals, after an overnight shift, taking care of two small kids (hi! that’s me & my sister!). Like what WAS he even doing? How would he survive? When did his life get HERE? Will he make it? I can literally FEEEL the exhaustion in the poor man’s eyes.
But this? This doesn’t feel like exhaustion. It feels hella scary. It feels nerve wracking. It feels like I’d rather put on another episode of Desperate Housewives (rewatching because it’s great & feels like a completely different era). But not exhaustion. It feels like the start of something that could be big.
Thank you for being here,
Rachel Hope
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the poetry
some background: When I was completing my Honors in the Major Thesis at UCF in 2012 I felt the same fear. We were talking over 20 poems that I had to turn into masterpieces, worthy of publishing; worthy of the culmination of my education, countless hours spend studying and in class away from my daughter & family, & the over $20K of loans I had racked up. I wrote ballads worth. Some poems spanned pages of text in EB Garamound size 11 font. Some poems were deep, tear provoking things. But this one - my favorite little gem of a poem that I named the whole collection after - this one sits with me daily. It feels like the start of something, or maybe- it feels like the moment all the work is done, and you sit there, in awe of what you just accomplished.
and it’s also the smell of laundry
I want to smile, be happy
with people and absent of thought
silent while the world carries on
just proving that it can
Found in 2012 after hitting submit.