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Dionne C. Monsanto

Dionne C. Monsanto is not your average yoga teacher. She is a native New Yorker who left a successful financial services career twice to become a full-time yoga teacher. She has since taught thousands of yoga/dance classes internationally. Her life after financial services has taken her around the globe teaching, speaking and training. She has appeared on TV, radio, print ads and magazines. As a mental health advocate, public speaker, performer, yoga/dance teacher, and life coach she connects people to their joy and assists her clients in remaining true to themselves. As a bestselling author and proud mother, she hopes to leave an example that her sons will follow to live happy, healthy lives and to make her deceased daughter proud. On any given day you will find her with a coffee cup or water bottle in her hand while on her way to or from, yoga, cooking, walking or coaching. She leads the way and challenges us to claim joy as our birthright and is the pied piper calling us to live life INjoy. Sign up for my newsletter below and get a few free chapters of my bestselling book, 101 Ways to Live Life INjoy. https://www.joyousocean.com/101waysbook-sample

A neatly made bed with red and white bedding, two plush toys, and three journals placed at the center — a warm, personal space that reflects rest, reflection, and nightly ritual.
Featured Post

Rest is alignment, and I learned it the hard way…

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 19 — May 13, 2026 Alignment: You Can’t Be Aligned If You’re ExhaustedRest is a spiritual discipline Hey Reader, Last week we talked about listening to the whispers.This week?We’re talking about something even quieter — and even more essential: Rest.Sleep.Your actual nervous system. Because you cannot be aligned if you’re exhausted.Your body will shut you down long before your spirit does. 🔵 Where are you trying to be aligned on an empty tank? Rest is a ritual...

A close-up of Dionne holding a black mug that says “YOU MADE IT!” in gold lettering, sitting in her red-walled home with artwork behind her — a calm, grounded moment before the story unfolds.

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 18 — May 6, 2026 Alignment: Are you living in integrity with what you know now? Hey Reader, May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and we’re stepping into our new theme: Alignment. Because here’s the truth: wareness without action creates frustration. Alignment is what happens when you finally live what you already know. And baby… this week? Life gave me a VERY messy reminder. Let me tell you about the day the C train stopped me in my tracks. 🔵 The Day the C...

A close-up photograph of a woman’s eyes looking directly at the camera, with soft natural light highlighting the skin and lashes, symbolizing hidden discomfort and the experience of carrying something silently.

Letters for the Living Issue #3A — Bonus Issue Oops… I Owe You This One Hey Reader, I gotta tell on myself for a minute. I’ve been back in New York since Tuesday — fully unpacked, fully landed — and this bonus issue has been sitting in my drafts for over a week. Written. Ready. Waiting. And still… I didn’t send it. Shout‑out to Felicia, who emailed me saying, “I haven’t heard from you in a while…” and that lovingly reminded me that I owe y’all a letter. Hey, I am human and life be life-ing...

A collage of two photos showing a woman receiving acupuncture on the back of her thigh during a sports massage session. One image shows her lying on a table with needles in her leg; the other shows her resting with her head on a pillow. The images symboli

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 17 — April 29, 2026 Awareness: When the Body Speaks Louder Than the Mind Hey Reader, I’m back — but was I really gone?I mean… we still talk wherever I am. This is my first full day back in New York City after two months in Kenya. I am completely unpacked and ready for my NYC life. It’s also our final week in the April theme of Awareness. So let me ask you something: Where is your body trying to speak louder than your mind? Because here’s the truth:Most of us...

A woman standing outdoors in bright sunlight, looking upward with a peaceful, trusting expression, symbolizing guidance, provision, and divine timing.

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 16 — April 22, 2026 Awareness: Trust, Provision & the God‑Winks That Guide Us Hey Reader, As I prepare to leave Kenya and return to New York, I’ve been sitting with one truth: I have been held every single step of this journey. Not because I planned perfectly. Surely did not!Not because I knew what I was doing. Clueless!Not because I had a map. Well maybe Google maps. 🤣 But because life — God, Spirit, the Universe, whatever name you use — kept sending me...

A close-up photograph of a woman’s eyes looking directly at the camera, with soft natural light highlighting the skin and lashes, symbolizing hidden discomfort and the experience of carrying something silently.

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 15 — April 15, 2026 Awareness: What’s Hiding in Plain Sight Hey Reader, OMG. I have so much to tell you about my first Vipassana. Ten days of complete silence with over forty strangers was unreal, surreal, and transformational in ways I’m still integrating. There were so many revelations, so many moments that cracked me open… but I can’t fit all of that into one letter. So today, I want to start with the moment that set everything in motion. The moment that...

A woman holds a large green leaf near her face while looking upward toward the sky. Her hair is styled in twists, and she stands outdoors with soft clouds and a blurred shoreline behind her, creating a peaceful, contemplative scene.

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 14 — April 8, 2026 The Awareness That Rises When We Let Life Pause Hey Reader, This month, we’re exploring Awareness.And this week, we step into the layer that holds all the others: Spiritual Awareness. Not religion.Not doctrine.Not striving. Spiritual awareness is the quiet knowing beneath everything.The truth that rises when the hurry falls away.The wisdom that appears when you stop rushing long enough to hear yourself again. A moment of spiritual listening...

A woman in a bright yellow dress sits on an outdoor bed surrounded by lush green trees, journaling in soft natural light. Blue patterned pillows and an artistic sculpted headboard frame the scene, creating a peaceful, reflective atmosphere.

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 13 — April 1, 2026 Awareness: A Quarter in Review Hey Reader, Welcome to April — the beginning of a new quarter and a new theme inside The Grief & Joy Weekly: Awareness. But before we step into what’s next, I want to honor what the past three months revealed.Q1 was not light.It was not casual.It was not surface‑level. It was a season of: Change → Savoring → BaggageAwakening → Softening → Releasing And now, we pause long enough to notice what all of that...

A soft sunrise over Watamu Beach, with warm orange and pink light reflecting on calm ocean water. A small boat floats near the shore, framed by hanging branches, driftwood, and seaweed along the sand. The scene feels peaceful, spacious, and full of possib

Letters for the Living Issue No.3 What March taught me about baggage. Hey Reader, March, my birth month, was a month of noticing. Of naming.Of realizing how much I was carrying… without meaning to. Before I share the four moments from inside my private weekly letters, I want to tell you the story that held me all month long. 🟠 A Story About Baggage and the Fear of Not Having Enough I was in Watamu, on the coast of Kenya, repacking my bags with limited time, when I saw it clearly: So many...

Two women walking together in shallow beach water, one wearing a bright yellow dera and the other in navy and beige. They move forward with no bags, capturing companionship, ease, and the spiritual spaciousness of traveling light.

The Grief & Joy Weekly Issue No. 12 — March 25, 2026 Baggage: What We’re Making Room For Walking into what’s next — lighter, supported, and carrying only what matters. Hey Reader, I mentally started packing for my 10‑day silence… and I had an "aha" moment. I didn’t need much. A shoulder bag.A few toiletries.Warm clothing.Supplements.My breath. That’s it. Ten days.One small bag.And a version of me who finally understands: My presence is what’s most important. It made me laugh a little —...