Year 35: My Year of the White Swan, Dripping in Shakti

Thirty-five.

This birthday feels different. Not just because I’ve lived another year, but because I feel like I’ve lived many lives within the past twelve months.

Year 34 was a crucible — a year of fire and water, of breaking and remaking. I faced loss, grief, endings I didn’t want, and beginnings I wasn’t sure I was ready for. What a ride 34 was. A year of incredibly high highs and devastating lows. A year that unraveled me completely, stripped me bare, and ultimately set me free.

It was the first year I walked this earth without my grandmother, and soon after, I lost my grandfather too. The grief of losing them cracked me open in ways I’m still learning to understand.

It was the year I made one of the most terrifying choices of my life — walking away from the yoga studio I had poured myself into for eight years. A space where I grew, taught, served, and gave so much of my heart. Leaving wasn’t easy; it felt like losing a piece of myself. But even with full waitlisted classes, I felt unfulfilled, undervalued, and exhausted.

Deep down, I knew the truth: staying would have been a betrayal of my own soul. It was time to say yes to myself, and no to everything that was weighing me down.

There’s a saying: “Jump, and the net will appear.” When I shared my fears, my teacher said to me, “But Mandee, maybe you weren’t meant for the net at all. Maybe you were meant to fly. Jump — it’s time.”

And so, I did.

Choosing Myself

This past year, I realized:
I cannot beg to sit at tables I wasn’t invited to.
I cannot chase people who exclude or ignore me.
I cannot seek healing from the very places that hurt me.

For too long, I had dimmed myself, bent myself, given too much of myself just to belong. But 34 showed me that belonging doesn’t come from squeezing myself into someone else’s circle — it comes from creating my own.

Starting my own studio was the scariest leap I’ve ever taken, but also the most important. It was a declaration: I will not sell myself short. I will not trade my vision for someone else’s comfort. I will trust myself enough to build the space I’ve always dreamed of.

A Year of Transformation

I began yoga at 21, in a rehab facility, just days after my birthday and days after my boyfriend had passed away from a drug overdose. I was a mess. That first practice changed everything. Yoga became the bridge between who I was and who I wanted to be.

Now, 14 years later, after grief, after endings, after rebirth, I find myself here: teaching yoga on my birthday, guiding students with the same practice that has guided me out of darkness time and time again.

And what a transformation it has been. Instead of stumbling home at 4:30am from another night of self-destruction, I woke up at 4:30am to snuggle my baby, crush a hard-as-hell workout with my mentor, and then flow with my community.

I am not who I was. I am who I chose to become. Life is wild. We are capable of such profound transformation. We are not defined by our past. We get to evolve, to shed, to rise again and again.

A Year of Healing and Shedding

This past year has been one of massive healing. I put myself and my health first in a way I never had before. I shed outdated layers of myself, released old stories that no longer served me, and allowed grief to deepen my practice rather than harden my heart.

Through it all, I rooted into daily practice — my sadhana. Every single day, without fail, I carved out space for myself, for the awakening of my own radiance.

Now, my body is stronger than it has ever been. My mind is clear, steady, and disciplined. A year of awakening, rising, and embodying goddess energy.

Dripping in Kundalini Shakti.

The White Swan

This new year, I am stepping into the archetype of the White Swan.

The swan, in yogic and Vedic philosophy, is the bird of wisdom, purity, and transcendence. The swan — hamsa — is the bird of wisdom. It is said to have the mystical ability to separate milk from water, symbolizing viveka, the power of discernment: the ability to know what nourishes and what depletes, what is truth and what is illusion.

That has been my work this past year: learning to separate truth from illusion, love from obligation, belonging from clinging.

The swan glides across water, never weighed down by the mud beneath. That is my prayer for this year: to move gracefully through whatever comes, unshaken by what is heavy, unattached to what no longer serves. This is the life of the awakened soul: to move through the messiness of life with grace, without losing our purity.

And with every breath, the swan sings its eternal mantra: So’ham — I am That. With every inhale and exhale, I am reminded: I am not defined by my past, I am not limited by loss, I am not diminished by endings. I am free. The swan whispers the eternal truth of our being — that we are not separate from Spirit, that we are more than our stories, more than our grief, more than our fear.

This year, I’m choosing to embody the White Swan. To embody grace. To honor my wisdom. To separate the nourishing from the unnecessary. To glide above the noise. To live my truth with beauty and strength.

My Mantra for 35

As I step into this next year of life, I anchor into these words — not just as inspiration, but as a vow to myself, as my battle cry:

I do not beg to sit at tables I was not invited to.
I do not chase people who exclude or ignore me.
I do not seek healing from those who hurt me.
I do not sell myself out to fit into someone else’s circle.
I do not set myself on fire to keep others warm.

I create my own circle.
I surround myself only with those who truly love, understand, and respect me.
I honor where to place my energy.
I remember my worth.

The rhythm of my heart is Shakti’s drum guiding me home — fierce, unwavering, and true.
This is the year I rise in sovereignty.
The year I trust my power, my voice, my path.
The year I embody the White Swan — clear in vision, precise in discernment, radiant in grace, and unstoppable in flight.