In our Yoga Sutras class, we’ve been exploring the suffering that arises when things are not the way we want them to be.
Isn’t that… most of the time? Eighty percent, if we’re lucky?
Yoga doesn’t teach us how to guarantee that life unfolds according to our preferences. It teaches us how to work skillfully with our emotions when life unfolds the way it inevitably does — which is often not how we planned.
I used to think (and truthfully, still do) that yoga is magic. That it makes the impossible possible. But not because it rearranges the world around us. The magic is subtler than that.
Yoga doesn’t shapeshift circumstances.
It shapeshifts us.
It softens our rigid desires. It loosens our aversions. It gently reshapes what we cling to and what we push away.
And what happens when those inner shapes change?
Oddly enough… nothing.
That’s the point.
The outer world may remain exactly as it is. But we remain steady. Even. Centered. Able to admire what is, not just what we hoped would be.
This is resilience. Not hardening. Not bracing. But the quiet capacity to meet life as it arrives.
Resilience requires self-care. It requires self-study. It requires the willingness to look inward.
Yes, it can seem selfish to take that time.
But the truth is, when we are steadier, kinder, and less reactive, everyone around us benefits.
That might be the real magic after all.

Yoga for Back Care is Coming Around Again
And soon after, Yoga for Osteoporosis will return as well.
Why do I offer all of these specialty classes?
As many of you know, in addition to teaching group classes, I also work as a yoga therapist. And over the years I’ve seen something, which you have probably seen as well: group classes can be a mixed bag. You might heal something; you might hurt something.
Traditionally, all yoga asana practice was therapeutic in its intention. It was designed to be adapted to the individual and taught one-on-one, so that the poses fit the person—not the other way around. That is not the way we do it here these days. Now we often practice in rooms with 5, 15, sometimes 35 other bodies. None of those bodies are programmed exactly like yours. And what about the teacher’s body? It is most natural for a teacher to guide from their own embodied experience (and who can blame them?). But that can sometimes leave you trying to fit your body into a shape designed from someone else’s blueprint.
This past week I had a fascinating experience in class that I think relates.
As many of you know, I rarely pre-plan my classes. (If I do, it may not be relevant to the people who actually walk through the door.) I wait. I see who comes. I listen. And the practice reveals itself. (People sometimes ask me, “Where do you come up with this?” Quite honestly, it shows up in the moment.)
In this particular class, I was “shown” a pose using a prop. The intention was to create a strong hamstring contraction. What happened was that students who tend to have cranky low backs reported that their backs felt really good with this modification. Others felt the stronger hamstring work I originally intended. And some felt no significant difference at all.
Same pose. Same room. A bunch of different experiences.
It became clear to me that this was a specialty modification. For certain bodies—especially those with low back sensitivity—it is going to allow them to strengthen their hamstrings (so important for supporting a happy low back) without aggravating the SI joint. Yay! This is an amazing tool. But it is probably not something I will use in a general class because it requires wall space, enough blocks, and the time for people to move around and off their mats. Those conditions will not always be found in a regular class. But it will absolutely find a home in a Back Care series.
And this is exactly why specialty classes matter.
They create space for nuance.
They allow for intelligent, therapeutic application.
They give you time to ask questions and really understand why, when, and how to apply the asana.
They help you work with your body rather than against it.
If you’ve ever felt unsure about whether yoga is “right” for your back, your bones, or your specific needs, these classes are designed with you in mind. I personally love to teach these and watch people begin to understand how their body is programmed.

Stress is in the air.
There’s a lot of conflict, chaos, and a general sense of being unsettled right now. No matter who you follow, what you believe is right, or what you think is fair, it’s hard to escape the divisions woven into daily life. They show up everywhere—at the dinner table, on our news feeds, and yes, even during the Super Bowl. Your team. My team. The team.
This sense of separation feels especially sharp right now. And it leaves many of us wondering:
How do we soften the edges?
How do we become more resilient, more accommodating, more capable of sitting inside discomfort without escalating it?
How do we de-escalate situations—old ones with our families of origin, and new ones popping up every time we open our phones?
I wish I had a simple, one-size-fits-all answer. Believe me, if I did, I would have shared it long ago.
What I can share is an insight that became very clear to me during my recent time in Portugal. Being in a country where I barely spoke the language, navigating a different culture and sense of timing, encountering emergencies, storms, flooding, and nearby destruction—I saw just how much my practice has quietly prepared me for resilience.
I managed, for the most part, to keep my head on. There were moments of intense stress when I couldn’t get myself unstuck. And I count it as part of my practice that I was able to listen and follow my partner when he recognized that I was frozen and unable to make a good decision. We don’t always have to know what to do—but knowing who to listen to, and when, is essential.
So this is what I can offer you: do your practice.
Whatever it is. Whatever discipline you follow.
But here’s the important part—you can’t just make it up as you go. Find something with a proven track record. When the nervous system is overwhelmed, it will short-circuit even the best intentions. This is why the first step is always listening to your nervous system.
Sometimes it’s saying, “I’m in the weeds. I need outside assistance.”
That message is not weakness—it’s wisdom. You can’t muscle your way out of it, rationalize it away, or ignore it. It’s a gift to hear it, and it becomes your responsibility to respond.
Trust me on this: those messages get clearer the more time you spend stepping outside your habitual thought patterns—seeking the divine, your true essence, God, the Creator, whatever language resonates for you.
Yoga practice reminds us that the path to higher consciousness—meaning peace, openness, and a regulated nervous system—comes through steady, consistent practice over a long period of time (Yoga Sutras 1.12).
That’s it. No specific pose. No mantra count. No checklist.
Just show up regularly, with sincerity, over time.
It is never too late to begin.
If you’d like to start that conversation with your nervous system, join me on Wednesday for the TRE class. You may find that those messages become easier to hear—and easier to trust.