It’s 2005. Staring at the application for vipassana in my apartment, currently a yoga studio owner, retreat teacher, wondering if I’ll ever become a mother. Considering 10 days of complete silence with some lectures… Why does this seem more daunting than I’d imagined? How can 10 days be free—what’s the catch? And how is there no dinner? Can i even do this? I get about halfway through the application and stop. Another time.

It’s 2026. Staring at a handful of women of all ages, hand-wringing their clothing into a bucket and hanging garments on two lines in front of five mountains, with a mile-long freight train passing through the background, across the road. After several mentions and one clear invitation, I’ve made it to Dhamma Pasava in Lava Hot Springs, Idaho, for my first 10-day vipassana course.

Snapshots.

Hour 1: I hand in my phone. The feeling goes from abject anxiety to complete freedom in moments. I can taste something that feels like coherence as I hand it in, as I fall asleep with the kind of peaceful tech-free breathing I always dreamt of.

Hour 4: Our first sit. A visual rolls through, a negative sheet (remember those?) of me at ten years old, glasses and barrette, several frames. I wonder what this means.

Day 2 or 3: I get in trouble (appropriately) for breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter with my best friend on the walking trail. We manage to pull it together.

Day 3 or 4: Am I seeing a circle of both my grandmothers with my mother, wisps of great-grandmothers lingering at the periphery, apologizing to each other?

Day 5: I realize my mind really is a white screen. Whatever I project upon it is just that, a projection. It’s going to change, go dark, go light, get more colorful, louder, more subtle, quieter. The projections keep changing. Can I become more interested in what’s happening in my body? Is that the practice? Are all these aversions and preferences precisely what I’m reshaping?

Day 6 or 7: I realize that the practice of feeling the sensations in my body is so utterly foreign. This body keeps struggling to focus on feeling, after spending a lifetime keeping busy doing and thinking. Cleaning, studying, reading, folding, creating, writing. Busy. Turns out that the practice of feeling the sensations in my body will one day be a way to “put on the brakes” as my teacher offers, a way back to equanimity, to peace, to harmony.

Day 7 or 8: Messy, stormy, crying inside. My teacher says that’s precisely right sometimes. Passing my attention through each part of my body. Staying stock still. Feeling the depths of sadness in my being, how i make people wrong, how i need to be heard and seen, how i’ve hurt people in the past. I gather them all here and apologize to each one in my heart.

Day 9?: I can see the error codes in my consciousness. Is that true? The beliefs: I am this religion, this is how i practice, this is what i believe, i should have everything i want, i should be perfect, all of these well-intentioned error messages in my subconscious coding. I can see them all scrolling across my being, as I watch sensations change and morph and dissolve and reappear.

There’s a Part II, with more storytelling and depth, coming next week, I promise. This is a good beginning to sharing the coherence coursing through my being.

For now, some Thank you notes to the others who were with us:

-Thank you to the one creating the mini cairns on our walking path.
-Thank you to the one walking barefoot in the mud after the big rains.
-Thank you to the one creating the nest-like structure right in front of the sign that reads “Course Boundary.”
-Thank you to the one creating the silent grave for the dead mouse on the path.

Lastly for now, a haiku I scribbled months ago, which I now see was written for our crew. Sent it to Natalie Goldberg who wrote me back, “good haiku.” Which means she kind of loves it, I think.

come play with me
i forgot my shoes
and my reason for being

Resources for you

• LIVE this FRIDAY, 1215pm Eastern, with on her new book, The Power of the Pause.

• LIVE this SATURDAY, 11am Eastern, with on her new book, Living Ritual.

• Hold Nothing Foundation is live! Feel free to support this column as a paid subscriber (which is directed to the Foundation), or donate directly here.

• Weekend Retreat, November 5th-8th, Santa Fe. Practice with me at the gorgeous Modern Elder Academy. A long weekend to reset, reconnect, enjoy silent mornings, enriching practices and wonderful meals.
  
  Thank you for being here.

Paid subscription revenue from this column is donated to the Hold Nothing Foundation, offered to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings to study and write together.

Our next gathering is on Friday September 4th, 11am Eastern Time; link is below. If you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions are available; message me here on Substack.

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Whether you’re a practitioner or a teacher, I’m interested to learn from you:

How has your practice (or teaching) evolved over time? What’s shifted or shifting in your priorities, studies, ways you approach your practice?

Leave a comment

Moving through subtle anatomy, prana, koshas, mapping the mind, stages of life and our own experience as students and teachers, we’re reminded that āsana is a doorway into the temple, not the temple itself. Expect practices and insights from this true scholar and student.

Thank you, Amy, for your friendship and scholarship. And here we are in 2013, yesterday and a lifetime ago.

And! The Hold Nothing Foundation is live. Been dreaming for years about creating this clear thread of connection from our practices to the causes about which I’ve been passionate since I began teaching, almost thirty years ago.

We begin with a virtual by-donation Creative Gathering on September 1st and 2nd.
Two hours of two days, 11am-12pm Eastern Time, to sit, create, and share in the medium of our choosing. By donation only, any amount accepted and appreciated!

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Paid subscription revenue from this column is donated to the foundation, benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Gatherings to study and create together.

Our next gathering is on Friday September 4th, 11am Eastern Time; link in our subscribers chat here. We might shift to first Sundays, let’s see.

And if you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions to this column are available; message me here on Substack.

In the middle of a three hour shift at a hospice patient’s home, tending to some dishes and emails while the patient rests, her husband is ordering cable service on speaker to ensure her LifeAlert button connects to the correct authorities if needed.

Listening as he’s answering questions to what is obviously an AI, but a strangely natural one.

“Aaaand, may i have your service address?”

“Great. And which plan were you thinking about?”

“Take your time, no rush, I can wait as you find that information.”

After about five minutes of this, he asks, “Wait, are you a real person?”

Stops me in my tracks, his earnest ask.

“Actually, I’m an AI, and my job is to help you set up your account easily, to get your service up and running as soon as possible.”

He half-laughs in response, turns toward me. “This is our world,” I muster, with a slight shake of my head. We both laugh. He and the AI finish surprisingly swiftly.

II. The art.

Walking toward Brian Eno’s Face to Face piece in Parma, Italy, where the seed for this post was planted, I’m transfixed. With a sequence of photographs of real individuals, the computer software used in this piece transitions from one person’s face to the next at a microscopic level, over several minutes per transition.

And because the change happens at an imperceptibly slow pace, it “births” tens of thousands of transitional faces, blending ages, genders, and ethnicities into a meditative stream of fictitious portraits. But are they fictitious?

With original ambient soundscapes by Eno filling the space, the installation is an exercise in patience, and a remembrance of our shared human identity.

III. But actually, are you real?

Recently I click “like” to a mom and daughter duo sharing solid, actionable home remedies. They’re in their stocked kitchen, seated, standing, chatting with me, sharing their wisdom. For a few days in row, I watch and like several of their reels, even saving one. Then the algorithm feeds me a new one, this time a man, treating a skin issue, but in a spookily similar setting.

Something about it sends me to look at the mom and daughter again.

They’re in precisely the same spot in the frame, same vibe, same moments of focus and tension, here’s-your-issue-and-here’s-how-you-fix-it. I spot a hashtag at the bottom. Get ready; might surprise you: #syntheticperformer.

Two more come to my feed, same deal, but now i see: Each synthetic performer eventually sends me to a product on Amazon. OMFG. Have you seen these folks? Before I put this together, I almost make a purchase. Can’t even. None of these faces below are actual humans. And there’s an extra rabbit hole of “women” in their “60s” who look crazy good… you’ve been warned. They’re not real either.

[May i repeat, none of these faces are actual humans.]

Shall we turn to the good news?

IV. You and I are real.

Heading into my first 10-day vipassana in a few days; a longtime dream, soon to be real. Preparing for practice of sitting dozens of hours over that course, already starting to feel patterns emerging that need my attention. Pausing on listening to music so I can attune myself to the silence. Tending to my kid who’s had his wisdom teeth out. Those matters are real.

Working with a dear private mentorship client recently, having begun our work on the premise that she wasn’t charging for her fine work, and wanted to begin—by the middle of our second session, we’re pivoting, landing on one of the most revitalizing truths alive in her heart.

She doesn’t want to “grow” at all. Not in our societal understanding of growth. Nope. She doesn’t want to charge more. Or earn more.

She wants to wake up each day, respond to the needs of her family, stay close to her son and daughter in law, rooted to her garden, focus on her few free offerings each year, along with one online course for which she does charge, in which she teaches about practical compassion. Real work.

And she wants to uphold, honor, prioritize, value, the simplicity of her world.

She wants to stay real, close to the ground, to her heart, to her life as it is. She loves her life as it is. Tears in her eyes as she says this. More on her work in Resources below.

And as we share time together, something cracks in my own heart, my words and energy shift, truths affirmed. What is real in my own life?

The 501(c)(3) I’ve started after putting if off for years, thinking i had to earn earn earn, is real. My current studies are real; of the Torah, the Quran, ancient lojong slogans, and perhaps most importantly, my own behavior. You and I are real.

This is the conversation I want to be in right now.

Wondering how this moves you, if you’re willing to share.

Leave a comment

The realest practices I know: Tea, meditation, prayer, connection, cooking, reading, moving the body, holding hands, listening. What else? What’s real to you?

Leave a comment

V. The perfect new book for this conversation.
Dear friend, neighbor, colleague, teacher, collaborator and sister, invites us to deep presence with her latest book, Living Ritual.

She’ll be live here with me for tea on September 5th. We’ll share tea, and discuss ritual as a way of being in relationship with what we cannot know, and of engaging with our willingness to evolve. Her new body of work is an incredible resource for us all.

May we pause on the collective ritual of scrolling and initiate the collective ritual of honoring the Earth, our people, all beings, our deepest selves.

VI. Resources.

• Weekend Retreat, November 5th-8th, Santa Fe. Practice with me at the gorgeous Modern Elder Academy. A long weekend to reset, reconnect, enjoy silent mornings, enriching practices and wonderful meals.
  

• Hold Nothing the book has given rise to the Hold Nothing Foundation (the aforementioned 501(c)(3)), to which proceeds from this column are directed, to be donated to causes benefiting women and girls. Site coming so soon!
  

• Dear client Laura Banks, referenced above, has agreed to be mentioned here. Her next Compassion Cultivation Training meets virtually on Thursdays, September 10th - October 29th, 2026, 7-9pm ET. She’s also offering a free online Intro to Compassion Cultivation Training on Saturday, August 15th from 2-3pm ET. Details for both at lauralbanks.com.
  

• Away message: For the rest of August, I’ll be sitting Vipassana, then with family; back with you in September.
  
  Thank you so very much for being here with me.

Paid subscription revenue from this column is donated to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings to study and write together.

Our next gathering is on Friday September 4th, 11am Eastern Time; link in our subscribers chat here. If you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions are available; message me here on Substack.

At our magnificent Airbnb in Ravenna.

I. On the dreamy-seeming paradox of youth.

Final days of a two-week journey through Italy; we’ve been climbing mountains, visiting ancient art, lighting candles and offering prayers multiple times a day, cooking our breakfasts, reconnecting with each other, re-learning ourselves.

On the train from Ravenna speeding toward Rome with my family, all cypresses and farms and fields of sunlight, I’m transported back in time.

The cars driving parallel to our train are moving in the same direction, and if I squint my eyes, I can see myself, twenty-five years younger, high on cocaine in the passenger seat with my boyfriend at the time, driving that road into Rome. Caught in a reliably swift cycle of elation and terror, plagued by delusions, body dysmorphia, and self-hatred, I’m crumbling; we’ve been driving for days traversing St. Tropez, Spain, and I barely remember anything but snapshots.

The dreamy-seeming paradox of youth; raves, strong drugs, gorgeously-lit bars, gloriously dangerous moto rides, romantic makeouts at stoplights—then waking up early to run, practice yoga, fix myself—then smoking more Marlboros, eagerly awaiting the next high.

Now twice the age i was in that car, I take inventory of what’s observable now to bring my nervous system back to a semblance of regulation. Longtime partner James and my almost-twenty year old son are seated nearby, both asleep. James’ back is healing (enormous gratitude for western medicine). Steeped in six years of sitting practice, kindle open to Uchiyama Roshi’s book, I’m twelve years in recovery from the addictions of that time. We’re arriving in Rome in one hour, walking into the home of my best friend of forty years.

And I have a mind I can trust.

I can trust this mind.

By continuously placing ourselves in stillness, we refuse the past and future, prioritize the present, thereby freeing up energy to be this moment, as teacher Katherine Thanas invites us to do. (1)

And in the face of our very human tendency to seek out drama, feed on mischief, or linger in past and future, our stillness is an act of resistance.

In the Aula Magna at the Palazzo Talìa (planning to offer practice there next year).

In stillness, if I loiter too long in past and future, usually clutching opinions and judgments, I freeze myself in time; doubts and fears turn my mind into a block of ice.

In stillness, when I refuse past and future, I arrive in the elegance of the present, with simplicity, elasticity, willingness, a sense of trust internally. Elegance is refusal.

II. All roads lead to Rome.

Where we’ve been: mostly a pilgrimage for James to see the unbelievable 5th century mosaics of Ravenna, the churches, frescoes, paintings and sculptures in every town. And having lived here for a couple of years, I was thrilled to eat the food in Parma and Modena, with deep bows to Massimo Bottura and the Francescana family.

Once we arrive in Rome, Jonah teaches us how to ride Lime scooters and cycles everywhere, allowing us to see broad swaths of this incredible city in minutes. Standing on my bike pedals, calling out to James and Jonah, feels like I’m at the Burn, except we’re in magical Rome.

Elegance as refusal is a teaching to which I listen repeatedly on Charlotte Joko Beck’s Living Everyday Zen audio (2).

When I consider elegance as refusal of the extraneous, my mind conjures images of pieces from designers like Jil Sander, Yohji Yamamoto, Issey Miyake, Martin Margiela, pivotal forces as I came up in the fashion world in my twenties for their quality fabrications, elegant silhouettes. For their clear refusal to overcomplicate things.

But today I’m also thinking of Bernini’s Ecstasy of Santa Teresa, which i saw with my own eyes yesterday. This was the showstopper of the trip for me. Bernini somehow released undulating folds of fabric from a giant block of marble centuries ago; which I’m seeing now as fluid movement, so alive, elegant, timeless.

The Ecstasy of Santa Teresa, by Bernini.

III. Le altre gemme di Roma (the other gems of Rome).

One morning over breakfast at our hotel is sitting a couple of tables over. Patti Smith! While I’m not really moved by famous humans, I most certainly am right now, seeing her. When I walk by her table, my hands rise instinctively together in gassho, and I offer a gentle bow while whispering Thank You without breaking stride.

She folds her hands and smiles back. Gosh.

Later that afternoon I happen to see her again as she leaves for her evening show. Bowing again, I forgot to wish you a very Happy Birthday (she turns 80 this year); she then touches my shoulder briefly, giggling, It’s not my birthday til December… but I’ll be celebrating all year til then.

Perfetto, I manage in reply, playing it cool. What i really want to do is hug her.

Other treasures: every Roman meal—we loved Pianostrada, Roscioli, Emma, Écru, Barnum and Matricianella. A wee bit of shopping (the boys fell in love with SBU), but especially James’ art history tours… wow.

Spent several nights at my dear friend’s flat in Flaminio, thank you Alysa forever and always. We’re still the same humans, just without the cigarettes and Sofie.

Considering spending a couple months based in Italy next year to travel around Europe to teach, a real dream for me.

Life is too short to wait any longer.

AMA post (ask me anything) coming soon. Ask anything in the comments here and I’ll answer, or send questions privately via DM here to ask anonymously.

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SAVE THE DATES: 2-day virtual writing retreat, by donation only to the causes I support, September 1st + 2nd at 11am Eastern. Details soon.

On the PODCAST: New friend May Lindstrom is on the podcast this weekend, with a surprising story and deep wisdom. Her products are among my favorites, always in the rotation over here. A superb human doing wonderful work in the world, and saving my skin!

GIFT for the women: Please click below for a comprehensive document with HRV wisdom recently shared in WOMEN: The Portal.

You are cordially invited to join the waitlist for the next time we open doors, to listen in and take part in the conversations and practices we’ve been craving.

Paid subscription revenue from this column is donated to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings to study and write together.

Our next gathering is on Friday August 7th, 11am Eastern Time. You will find the link in the subscribers chat. If you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions are available; message me here.

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Resources mentioned

(1) Katharine Thanas, The Truth of This Life (linked to Amazon as Bookshop is on backorder)

(2) Charlotte Joko Beck, Living Everyday Zen, on Audible.

and May Lindstrom’s glorious skincare.

For today, while my son climbs a giant rock face, regulating my nervous system with a short reading from Alive For It All by Cynthia Kear and sitting with you. On how stillness helps us widen and soften the weave of the mind, so the matters with which we’re working with can move freely through.

Sit begins at 08:40; reading is epic and worth it.

Side note: Arranging to offer retreat here next year.

Early hikes into the largest alpine meadow in all of Europe. Late morning asana + meditation. Locally grown, delicious food. Sauna and sunshine afternoons. This property is owned by the same family as where I hosted groups in Parrot Cay and Bhutan back in the day—exceptional.

Maybe one day I’ll tell the tale of our 530am hike before we left the kid for a nine-hour solo climb in a downpour.

How are you keeping the weave wide and soft? Today my methods were checking his GPS every hour, breathing deeply, swimming, and finishing Theo of Golden, thank you Vanda for that gift. Oh my word.

Leave a comment

Paid subscription revenue from this column is donated to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings on (mostly) first Fridays.

If you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions are available; message me here.

Aching for the lands burning, the friends struggling.

Celebrating the glimmers of safety, care and love.

Reading as an act of revolution, resistance, activism.

Our bookshelf for today:

When The Ache Remains, by
Alive for It All, by Cynthia Kear
Trembling, Still by Stephen Jenkinson
Glimmers, by and
But You Look Fine, by Amy Kurtz
Women In Love With The Divine, by Erica Bassani
even now, by and

With great thanks to , , , , , , and 100+ others for tuning in. James and I are moved to continue working and offering our experience together.

And any books you’d like to recommend, we’re ready to receive.

Leave a comment

Next post: A visual report on my final yoga festival, having just retired from festivals after sixteen years.

Paid subscription revenue from this column is donated to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings on (mostly) first Fridays.

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Gateless gate; Tassajara Zen Mountain Center entrance bridge.

Contacting the deeper constant.

“In the recesses
between the words
in the margins
of favorable fact
under the performed surface
contact the deeper constant
derived from
the alluvial grounds
of being”

—Maria Popova, Divinations for Uncertain Days

Last couple of weeks have been a proper pilgrimage. Taught with at Tassajara Zen Mountain Center, saw Abbot Jiryu Rutschman-Byler’s Sunday dharma talk at Green Gulch Farm, visited two dear teachers in their homes. So many ceremonies absorbed, still metabolizing, preparing for this moment as I write to you.

On the ground at the Tea House at Green Gulch Farm, above; Dear teacher’s home altar, below.

Post-Op Jimmy.

James had a long-anticipated spinal surgery a couple days ago; recovery proceeding well. Just prior to retrieving him at the hospital, I pause, stand at my home altar, stare into my mom’s eyes, ask her aloud what i need to know for this next period of caretaking, and draw a card from the Daily Ceremony deck as I do every day. Pulled the “Ceremony” card. Ceremonies everywhere. The card from Maria Popova’s Divinations deck, quoted above, holds it all. "Contact the deeper constant" no matter what I’m doing these days.

Reset the bed, prepare the food, get him walking.
Ask more questions.
Lots of skin on skin time (thank you Sara Szal MD).
Administer meds. Note dosage, timing.
Call the MD when pain grows acute. Learn it’s just the nerve waking up.
Note, he can feel his toes now. HE CAN FEEL HIS TOES!
Homeopathy. Music. Lay still next to him. Discuss lyrics.
Call friends, more laughter. Tears.
Feel frustration. Offer self empathy. Own it. Do it over.
Repeat.

The temples have come home with me, this feeling I’m sharing is one of being resourced and even, at times, relaxed. Everything is included in this experience, no part need be left out. Even when he’s wincing, even when I’m feeling overwhelm.

Where are your unexpected ceremonies?

Leave a comment

Last highlights from last week’s pilgrimage.

Sat with (above) for a talk about Undimmed and Hold Nothing—engaging with the good people of Mill Valley in an unforgettable ceremony of truth, inquiry, love and support. Saw my Dad… what a blessing.

And lastly, sitting around the table with these legends (below) was one of the simpler and more life-affirming ceremonies of our travels. Here, our post-dinner walkabout selfie with , her man Brad, my Jimmy, and our dear friend and teacher Frank Ostaseski, author of The Five Invitations, with closing conclusions for today:

Hang with your people.
Love deeply.
Take the time to be present.

See you at Telluride Yoga Festival June 25th-28th, the MDs at Upaya in mid-July for the Inner Practice of Medicine, and finally I’ll be at Esalen in September with , and (almost full).

See you in North Carolina at Firecreek Retreat in October (also almost full), and cannot wait for my hometown MEA weekend in Santa Fe for a few days in early November. Couple rooms remain in Costa Rica Innermost Wisdom December as well.

It’s my babysitter from when I was little. Ellen Abrams.…

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At the end of the class, the teacher, , tells me that she’s starting a new studio, and taking applications for a teacher training. Within a few days I craft a collection of tiny art pieces—drawn, painted, collaged and sewn—to answer the application questions; she accepts me as student. I’ve no idea what’s to happen. My mom isn’t super encouraging, but I’m paying for it and it feels true to my heart.

During that era, 14th Street in New York City is dicey after sundown, but I become a student in Cyndi’s teacher training, her first in her new studio, Om Yoga, so I learn to navigate the neighborhood with alertness. My first time teaching, I’m staring out the window of the studio, too nervous to look at my fellow students, just calling out instructions. Cyndi is kind but firm in her feedback, and I’ll learn to look, to listen, to attune to myself and those in the room, under her tutelage.

Soon I’ll meet some of my most treasured friends there, Christy, Athena, Pati, countless future colleagues. I’ll never be the same once I start teaching in earnest, bringing in poetry and whatever my early-thirties heart needed to keep healing.

Cyndi’s new book, published by Chronicle Books, Long Life Yoga, is now a key resource in my own practice; honored to share her work with you here.

Cyndi writes here on Substack.

Find more from Cyndi at https://www.cyndilee.com/
Cyndi’s teaching schedule: https://www.cyndilee.com/classes-trainings
Books: https://www.cyndilee.com/books-by-cyndi
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cyndisphere/

And thank you , , , and many others for tuning into our live. Join me for my next live video in the app.

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The Power In Your Hands is out June 2nd, 2026. Pre-order your copies now. Please do consider gifting to the younger ones if you’re inspired.

And thank you , , , and many others for tuning into our live. It’s wonderful to learn this science, and these practices, and be together.

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For women, no prescription covers a settled nervous system, intentional rest, and ways to attend to what matters most, in the quiet corners of our lives. Attention and care are radical, biological acts. Our bodies need integration, stillness, and stability for these transitions, and we aim to offer pockets of safety and refuge for your system and being.

If you’re a supporting subscriber here on Substack, check our Subscribers Chat for your code to receive $200 off The Portal for our year together. Doors will remain open til end of day today.

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And thank you , , , , , and many others for tuning into our live.

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Join us live Tuesday, May 26th.

We’ll be live, here on Substack, at 2.15pm ET / 11.15am PT for a brief overview of our new yearlong program, WOMEN: The Portal. Join us live to learn more, before we begin. Click this link, or the button just below.

https://open.substack.com/live-stream/214568

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Learn your body, receive guidance and protocols for your practices and your heart-mind, and co-regulate with other women. Explore WOMEN: The Portal here.

Your body is your first prophet, telling you what’s happening interiorly before we can register it with the mind; distracted by so many inputs, we’re unable to listen. Because we haven’t yet created circles such as these, we don’t have support.

Now we do.

When we study these facets of our experience with curiosity and care, we learn to: trust and respect the intelligence of the body, become more intimate with ourselves and follow the energy in every realm of our existence. With practices and protocols to bring us into a new state of support, this year will transform the way you see yourself and your process.

Final notes.
If you’re a paid subscriber to this column, you’ll receive $200 off this yearlong program. Your code is below these notes.

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All Live Sessions will be recorded, so if you’re unable to make any of the monthly gatherings, the replays will be available on our course pages. Your inquiries will help us plan our sessions, so we’ll invite you to submit them in the course.

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Savoring The Frozen River during baths while traveling to teach retreat, marveling at the magnificence and resilience of women.

The title of today’s piece is care of our protagonist, Martha Ballard, who, due to her daily journal entries, now lives on in my heart. “I have been at home,” she writes on the days she’s home, which is to say, “I’m doing it all, trying to find pause with my people, make our candles for the evenings, cook meals, care for my patients, tend to my children as they struggle, acknowledge my own pain, while doing my best to feel joy, to heal.”

The phrase keeps stopping me in my tracks.

I have been at home.

Finding myself at Manchester, England’s Broughton Sanctuary this week, teaching: think Bridgerton-style manor home, re-wilding three thousand acres of land with an intentional, globally respected team, a modern spa within a ten-minute walk of the Hall (palatial accommodations); it’s gorgeous.

Here’s my walk to and from classes, a contrast to my high desert ochres and pinks.

The shadows of the trees, the birds and bunnies, the scent of petrichor in the air, the light that brightens in the eyes of the fifteen humans sharing of themselves and their experiences; more candor and clarity emerge each day.

Having lost my guiding notebook on the flight over (it was a 2” miracle wrapped in Japanese shibori fabric, with several notes for each day, and i don’t lose anything), I realize I’d apparently created it for someone who really needs it. Self-empathy for the win.

The recalibration: Pulling six teachings from each of the books I’d brought, randomly scrambling them up to let Providence tell us which teachings will serve our focus each day, trusting in decades of study to bring it together.

Each day, the teachings land in us, handing us what’s needed; practices for life, death and everything in between. Choosing one Lojong slogan (studying three interpretations, from Judy Lief, Norman Fischer and Pema Chödrön), one verse from Machig Labdrön in Skymind, and one dharma talk from Katherine Thanas, we find ways to weave it all together through practice. Our days are full.

Our resources:

• The Truth of This Life by Katherine Thanas

• Skymind by Charlotte Rotterdam and Pieter Oosthuizen

• Training in Compassion by Norman Fischer

• The Compassion Book by Pema Chödrön

• The Slogans of Atisha by Judy Lief

Morning sits in the Nest. Silence stretches between us and becomes more comfortable as days elapse. Silent mornings mean soak time, gym time, and a sublime two-hour asana practice. Lunch, then free time for tours and wild swims in the lake for some, then a second practice with writing and Q+A in the afternoons. Delicious vegetarian meals. Poems whispering through our days as we go, co-founder Paris Tempest regales us with a midweek evening sound bath.

The unexpected closing labyrinth ceremony, during which each of us walks anew with Sevanti’s fiercely gentle guidance. Each person brings profound teachings, and we spend the week walking in a fine mist of deep feminine wisdom.

As we part, committed to getting up every day and taking care of this life, we carry new songs, new eyes, pockets of safety and refuge, with ethereal ancestral twine forever winding around this once-in-a-lifetime assemblage of hearts.

Eager to see these faces again soonest. An utter blessing to serve each of you.

WOMEN: The Portal opens this week.

Years in the making, highly anticipated, medicine and practice are converging.

Join Dr. Sara and me for one free opening session to explore the material, cadence, dates and exchange details for our year to come in WOMEN: The Portal.

Investigate the subtlest invitations to your intuition, steadiness and softness with us.

Registration opens May 21st - June 1st.

Paid subscription revenue is donated to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings.

If you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions are available; message me here.

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Our next writing gathering happens on
SUNDAY, May 31st, 5pm EASTERN.
(I’ll be traveling and offline June 1st-10th.)

Our Zoom link is here. See you on May 31st.

Today, an homage to a vital aspect of my formation.

At least twenty years ago.

Supporting subscribers, a peek into one of my most medicinal friendshi…

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I. Readings.
Lisa Olivera: When the Ache Remains
Clare Carlisle: Transcendence for Beginners
Norman Fischer: Training in Compassion
Afīf Al-Dīn Al-Tilimsānī: The Divine Names
Joan Didion: Let Me Tell You What I Mean

Not pictured:
Tara Brach: The Courageous Heart Workbook (pre-order now)
Gregory Boyle: Cherished Belonging
Ashvaghosa: The Awakening of Faith

Which book intrigues you most for today?

Anything in particular striking a chord for you in the meditation or talk?

Leave a comment

II. This week, on the GoodLife Project Podcast with longtime friend Jonathan Fields: What I’m giving up in order to focus on giving, a few notes on parenting and partnership, and the joy of being with a friend whom I’ve known for decades.

III. Haiku class with dear teacher Natalie Goldberg.
May 23rd, ONLINE. Natalie has been a teacher to me for years, both through her books and in person, and this 3 hour foray into the practice of haiku will light up your writing for years to come.

IV. Function Health.
Staying on top of hormones, metabolic health and more has never been easier. Function Health comes to about $1/day for your year of vital information for overall health. Yesterday I had vials taken for my chosen add-ons (food sensitivities, heavy metals, hormones and cardiac health); next week will be my Annual Lab visit (see below for screenshot). The portal is super user-friendly, helping me to make better choices to support my health every day.

Learn about Function Health here.

And paid subscribers, our monthly gathering is next week!
See you Wednesday, May 6th, 11am Eastern Time.

Link to meet is in our private chat thread here. Expect a supportive crew with whom to write, listen, and feel the care of this family of readers and writers.

This month’s prompt is from Lisa Olivera’s new book, When the Ache Remains. You choose from these four options on page 9:

Can I hold myself with dignity as I take a closer look at what’s here?
Can I remember what grounds me, roots me, steadies me?
Can I allow something new to unfold, to take shape?
Can I let go of a destination and reorient back toward this moment?

Paid subscription revenue from this column is donated to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings on (mostly) first Fridays.

If you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions are available; message me here.

And thank you , , , , , and 100+ others for tuning into my live video. Join me for my next live video in the app.

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She expresses delight at the prospect of going live to celebrate her, so here we are.

As referenced in our chat, I shave my head in solidarity when Christy’s treatment commences burning through her hair follicles in August 2021. Our talk that day, including the last look at our hair, is here.

Readings today: Norman Fischer’s Mountains and Rivers Sutra: Teachings and his gloriously helpful Taking Our Places.

Dear Christy Kissty Meefing von Meefersons,

Our first meeting, circa 2003, consists of you seated at the end of your dining room table, surrounded by books on homeopathy, beaming a smile that means instant friendship for me. Your smile is actually the most enchanting, magnetic symbol of freedom I’ve seen in real life to date.

This is a happy human, I remember thinking. Precious little must be on your mind outside of doing what you love.

Your smile that day has saved me from choosing what doesn’t belong with me, countless times over the last twenty years, reminding me.

Only do what has meaning.

Our shared studentship, dance floors, steam rooms, car rides, adventures, all of it a potent cocktail of oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin even during the worst of the ensuing heartaches. On the best of days, we pair up to offer a series of glorious retreats, as well as one of the first classes at the first-ever yoga and music festival. Years later you’ll come with your truck to pack me up from a breakup like a total professional.

When you tell me you’d met the father of your children, I remember listening to you while walking on the Bowery in front of the shops that were all full of lights back then. These are all good reasons to call you my wife even when we’re both partnered up with our wonderful husband-humans; today’s piece is my homage to your courage, your willingness, your softening. Also I don’t think i’m ever growing my hair again.

May 2023, above; circa 2018 below.

softening time

Sky full of clouds, pensive piano notes in my ears, about fifteen minutes from home with all the groceries. You call me with gravity in your voice, which is rare. I pull over instantly.

Yes, cancer. Yes, surgery, yes, chemo, yes, radiation.

Yes. My best friend.

Yes, healing.

We’re holding one another from two thousand miles away, hugging over FaceTime, struggling to find the words. When I finally find mine, I tell you I’ll shave my head when you do. Together we’ve lived in the same house, studied, played, traveled, had our hearts broken, gotten married, had babies. You’re clearly ready to take on the true healing, though, and that’s what this conversation reveals.

The softening.

Strangely, your softening becomes my own; I can still see how I allow agitation to seep into my day, hurling me quietly into anxious reactivity. Over months, I watch from a distance as you become more vulnerable, less afraid. I feel you shift and am moved to ease up on myself, to drive more slowly, to listen for the holiness in the voices of those closest to me. It’s still happening.

When we finally shave our heads, I worry the new look might change me, harden my heart somehow; instead I find myself with more time and space to think and feel, to rest and be, as though I can take myself less seriously. Somehow more intentionality is accessible without all that hair, that whole personality. And I can hear the forest outside differently.

Witnessing the most fearsome possibility has raised us up, brought us closer to ourselves and to our own trust. This surprising, stunning chapter is still open for both of us.

May 2023.

Thank you for reading the title poem from my first collection, Softening Time. Wifey Christy is clear for five years now, teaching and thriving with her family in North Carolina. I’ll be offering Retreat at her refuge this October!

Share a few words about favorite human(s) who save you if you wish; honored to keep reading and responding to your heartfelt comments.

Leave a comment

And thank you , , , , , and many others for tuning into my live video with ! Join me for my next live video in the app.

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“What happens,” one of the women inquires, tears forming in her earnest eyes, “when the children keep changing and we struggle to relate to them, to determine appropriate bounda…

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Wise, caring, real, hilarious, clarifies crucial aspects of practice here. Welcome into an engaging conversation with a wise teacher whom I’ve known for twenty-plus years.

Context first. Studying our conditioning is the activity of practice; we sit, open, attune, examine gently (and with kindness) today’s delusions and opinions. Allow them to move through. Illuminate and shed them.

And we practice because we LOVE, as my teacher reminds, because when delusions disappear, the natural mind reveals itself (1). The book at the heart of our conversation strikes this same chord; seeing our habit energies with compassion, growing that compassion until it suffuses how we see everything, both within and around us.

This conversation grew from that same ground.

II. The Book.

The Buddhist Enneagram brings together two fields of deep wisdom, inviting us to shake off complacency and loosen the grip of our opinions, delusions, misperceptions. Studying this book, I find myself locating my dearest humans and my own confusion with a heart-mind of compassion, care.

Learning the points on the circle is helping me to embrace past errors, missteps, choices. I’m just a human with tendencies, and with this body of work from Susan, I’m invited to relax into the truth of things, to see each one of those moments and choices as doorways, and walk right through.

Loved this conversation, honored to share it with you.

III. From , on putting our ear to the moment. With thanks to my teacher for her words and sharing of this poem in a recent dharma talk (note, talks begin with sitting for fifteen minutes. Talk begins at 28:00), worth watching, free on YouTube through Upaya’s channel.

Soundbath

Even now, imagine, we could step through
one of the infinite doors of the moment
and find ourselves in another life—
repairing a net on the banks of a vast river
or herding cattle down a two-lane highway.
Standing in line a block from a soup kitchen
or guarding the entrance to the Forbidden City.
Instead, we are here in the lives we inhabit
But press your ear to the other doors. Hear
the traffic. The sobbing. A swelling of symphony.
Gunshot. Thunder of feet. The whimper of an infant.
The world enters us in waves, waves that seep
through the doors and we wade in them.
Wading, we come to know there is no way
to not be touched by every other life,
no matter how distant. If you put your ear
to the moment, sometimes you can hear
every other ear listening for what you will do next. (2)

Susan’s Course.

A live course with Susan, supplemented by the material in the book, incorporate eight nurturing, supportive LIVE hours with her on each of the facets of the enneagram, at this link.

Code ELENAENNEAGRAM means 20% off the course.

Paid subscription revenue is donated to causes benefiting women and girls. As a subscriber here, you’ll be invited to comment on all posts, access all archives and attend monthly Live Gatherings on (mostly) first Fridays.

If you have financial need, scholarship subscriptions are available; message me here.

Thank you , , , , , and others for tuning into our live video. Thank you for your trust and skillfulness.

Join me for my next live video in the app.

References

(1) Song of the Jewel Mirror Awareness.

(2) Soundbath, by

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Reading her words about relationships, friendships, and honesty over these last two weeks, completing it last night in the tub, I found myself weeping with recognition, texting three friends, and cleaning up one mess i’ve made recently (happening soon). Yeesh.

The book is an invitation to inquire within, make clear distinctions as to whom we bring close to our hearts, and treat our inner lives with more care than we’ve ever considered offering inwardly. Alex spends the time she needs tending to herself as a practice, and her findings, prompts and stories are changing how I see my relationships overall. Discernment, compassion, self-respect. Acknowledgement, acceptance, adjustments. These are the ingredients to one of the most important books I’ve read for my own mental health in a long time.

Gratitudes.

Thank you , , , , (yup, my Dad!), and all who tuned into our live. Talking with is forever a joy and privilege for me.

Resources Mentioned.

Independent booksellers make the world go round… Alex has signed 1000 copies for Mahogany Books and you’re able to order yours now! These will sell out swiftly…

Order your SIGNED COPY here.

Also mentioned: The wonderful independent-bookselling online platform Bookshop.org, where I’ve spent the last few years curating my virtual bookshelves… You’ll find Alex’s new book on top of my 2026 Favorites and several other lists.

But order your signed copy above… that’s definitely the way to go. And while you’re at it, order one or two or three for your friends. The finest gift is a signed book, wrapped with care, offered with love.

Next live tomorrow, Wednesday April 8th, with , at 5pm Eastern Time. Hope to see you there!

Get more from Elena Brower in the Substack app

Available for iOS and Android

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