Altars built from Ashes

Little Altars built from Ashes

September 1st 2026

I’m not really sure how to begin this post since it’s been about a year and a half since my last update. Many times I sat down feeling inspired to continue the blog, to update everyone (or rather, anyone) reading this about the last three months of my 6+ month journey through India, Thailand and Bali, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

It felt like too much to catch up on at first, and as time went on, it became a series of unfortunate events...trauma piling one thing on top of another. Lots of times I didn’t actually want to write any of it down because I knew if I wrote it down, it would somehow make it “real.” In my brain, I was hoping things would turn around but in reality, I was on a rollercoaster of things going bad, getting slightly better and then somehow getting increasingly worse. Rinse, repeat, same cycle. This didn’t just extend to my time away; it continued when I returned home to the United States.

Maybe one day I’ll write about everything in detail when it feels safe to process. I think I’ve finally been able to understand that what happened wasn’t so much a curse, but a lesson in disguise. More opportunities to test my recovery (which I sometimes desperately failed), opportunities to grow as a person, opportunities to understand my soul, which includes the pain and suffering that sometimes is just a result of being a deeply feeling human.

I’ll give a brief list of everything that happened from when I left India in March 2025 until today, September 1, 2026, so you can get a brief idea… and mainly so I can wrap this chapter up in a tidy bow and continue writing.

• I spent six weeks in Thailand. I went to an animal sanctuary, explored temples and islands by Phuket, started smoking weed again (and stopped smoking weed again), had a horrible experience at a trauma-informed yin training on the island of Koh Phangan, did an amazing cleanse on that same island, and got a Sak Yant tattoo from a monk in Bangkok.

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• I went back to Bali and did a raw dessert chef training. I was assaulted by a Buddhist therapist in Ubud, was completely disrespected by the facilitators of the training, got hit by a motorcycle crossing the street, broke two fingers, went from hospital to hospital for two severe infections, relapsed badly with the bulimia, and spent five weeks on bedrest in my Bali villa. I did get to spend a ton of time cooking,resting and on my final day i got a reading and blessing from the nephew of the Eat Pray Love healer.

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• I flew home first class via Qatar Airways. I got home and had no one. I adopted my dog (and biggest blessing), Bhakti (who had an infected ballsack due to a butchered neutering by the shelter). The bulimia continued to get progressively worse.

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• I went back to New York. My family sold their condo. I got to meet my first and only niece, Lillian. My dad went into a sleep-deprivation-induced psychosis and had to be admitted to the hospital. I had a really hard time with the whole thing. Tensions got bad with my family, and I went to California for six weeks.

• While in California, I saw Trevor Hall, went to the Kali temple, went to Disneyland and the Madonna Inn, the OC, Ojai, Santa Barbara, & LA where I spent lots of time eating Erewhon, walking on beaches and boardwalks and learning to appreciate life again. I reconnected with some old friends and family that I had not seen in years.

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• I came back to the East Coast. My 30-year-old cousin Jeremy passed away suddenly in May from kidney and liver failure. My mother and I got into a fight where she was arrested due to a misunderstanding, and she injured her eye really badly.

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And now here we all are. Back in the same house in Florida, still in the thick of the Florida heat.

I was supposed to go to Colorado to start my bachelor’s in somatic psychology, but my dad didn’t approve of the idea. I know it will eventually happen. I guess now just wasn’t the aligned timing. As of this moment, I am having issues with my thyroid and other chronic pain/endometriosis issues that have been progressively getting worse. All of that to say, I suppose this season is just meant for me to begin the process of physical healing. I have been seeing my therapist, who specializes in eating disorders, for about a year now. We meet twice a week, and I meet once a week with my nutrition/life coach.

I spend my days playing the harmonium and coming up with new mashups that blend mantra and modern music. I am desperately seeking the next step of my journey that helps me evolve and grow as a person. But until then, I will continue praying to my Divine Mother Kali, trusting that everything happens for a reason and remembering that old structures sometimes have to burn to the ground so new ones can be built.

Kali has never represented destruction simply for the sake of destruction to me. She destroys illusion. She cuts away what can no longer come with us. And maybe that is what this season of my life has been asking of me over and over again, whether I wanted it to or not. The thing about Kali is, when you invite her into your life, you have to be prepared that she will take away what no longer serves. Even if it is uncomfortable, even if it is extremely painful, she is always working towards one thing whether you realize it or not… your liberation.

I have also felt the presence of other gods and goddesses moving quietly through this season. Ganesha at the thresholds, helping me move through obstacles when I could not see a way forward. Lakshmi in the small moments of abundance… the meals, the music, the people and animals who reminded me that life was still offering me something beautiful. Saraswati in the harmonium, the mantras, the words and the poems that slowly began returning to me. And Shiva in the stillness, teaching me that sometimes transformation begins by sitting inside the silence.

And then there is Bhakti. I adopted him shortly after coming home from Bali, during a time when I felt like I had no one, and somehow this tiny dog named after the Sanskrit word for devotion became one of the greatest teachers of devotion in my life. There is something about him that has always carried a little Krishna energy to me… playful, mischievous, loving and constantly reminding me to come back to the present moment. I call him Baba, and he has this funny habit of wrapping himself completely in blankets, sometimes with only his little face peeking out, and I swear there are moments when he reminds me of Maharaji wrapped in his blanket. Maybe that sounds ridiculous to some people, but to me it feels like another one of those little winks from God. Bhakti came into my life when I desperately needed something outside of myself to love and care for, and in return he has given me a kind of unconditional love and companionship that I’m not sure I even knew I needed.  He is my constant reminder to literally "love, serve and remember god".  Maybe sometimes the gods and gurus don’t always arrive in the forms we expect them to. Sometimes they have four legs, demand treats, steal your blankets and sleep beside you at night.

Which brings me back to the title of this post… Little Altars Built of Ashes. Maybe the ashes of what once burned down become the very altars that we must pray to. This includes seasons of life, versions of oneself, beliefs, relationships and even the very idea of who you THINK you are. Maybe the whole point is letting go of who you were and what you think you know in order to become who you are meant to be.

Which brings me back to the last Niyama of yoga, which I have tattooed on my arm: Ishvara Pranidhana...surrender to God. Not surrender in the sense of giving up, but surrendering the idea that I was ever going to be able to control all of this in the first place. Surrendering to the Divine Mother, to the gods and goddesses who have carried me in ways I did not always recognize, and to the mystery of becoming someone new.

I want to continue this blog, not so much in a “journal” sense, but more as a place for whatever is on my mind. Maybe writings or poems I want to share, ponderings about life, religion or God, or articles about yoga, eating disorder recovery and chronic pain. 

I will also simultaneously begin posting to a Substack if you’re interested (Kali Grayce).

Consider this my altar built from ashes… and now it is time for me to rebuild.

With love, gratitude and lots of humility,

Eve (aka Kali Grayce) and my sidekick Bhakti

Little Altars Built of Ashes

Little altars built of ashes,

Holy remnants of the fire I survived.

I was doubtful for a moment,

But I’m grateful I made it out alive.

Little altars built of ashes,

Smoke releasing all the lies.

What I once thought was the ending

Was a blessing in disguise.

Little altars built of ashes,

It didn’t break me down this time.

Even though I self-destructed,

It turns out, I’ll be fine.

Little altars built of ashes,

From the fire of guilt and shame.

I put it out with compassion,

And showered it on like rain.

Little altars built of ashes,

I bless the fire, burn with the flame.

I return to myself completely,

And i'll never be the same.