As always, I began to feel a figurative welling … and to see a literal list of thoughts and experiences collecting in my Notes app. That’s when I know it’s time to write.

Truth be told, I knew it was time about two and a half weeks ago. Since then, “Substack post” has been rewritten in one paper-calendar square after another, while its iCal twin gets dragged obediently to the next day.

(Side note: last week, I listened to Famesick by Lena Dunham, which is RIFE with brilliant examples of showing rather than telling. That sentence was me practicing. It’s a work in progress. 😊)

Every day, I told myself: tomorrow.

And then, somehow, tomorrow became today.

So, here we are!

A few weeks ago, I saw Brandi Carlile (again) at Tanglewood.

It was extraordinary (again), to say the least.

You might remember that I have long loved her voice, her music, and the way she seems to throw her whole self into whatever she is singing - or doing. I love everything about her!

A few months ago, I watched her livestream Be Human: A Concert for Minneapolis after seeing the same show live in Boston. FYI: the full concert was just released on YouTube, and it is absolutely worth watching.

But there is something different about being there … sharing physical space with the person making the music and the thousands of people receiving it.

There is something that happens when a real, live human being offers something true: when a voice leaves one actual body, travels across actual space, and lands in another.

What moved me was not only what came from the stage, but what was happening among all of us gathered there.

That shared, unrepeatable experience of being fully present with other people has been on my mind lately.

Last week, I began my clinical social work practicum at UMass Amherst’s Center for Counseling and Psychological Health (CCPH).

For those who haven’t been following this particular plot twist, I am pursuing a Master of Social Work degree, almost 25 years after completing my first graduate degree. Apparently, one graduate degree, multiple careers, and more APA formatting than any one human should have to endure were not enough for me. 😆

And now, after a year of learning solely in the classroom, I am adding clinical work to the mix.

I’ve stepped into an environment with somewhere around 50 therapists and therapists-in-training: social workers, psychologists, counselors, interns, fellows, supervisors, and others, all learning from and alongside one another.

I gleefully find myself surrounded by people thinking deeply about questions I care about:

• How do we help another person feel safe enough to tell the truth?

• How do we listen for what is being said … and for what isn’t?

• How do we recognize the larger systems, identities, histories, and relationships shaping someone’s experience?

• How do we sit with pain without rushing to fix it, explain it, minimize it, or make it go away?

• How do we offer another person our full attention?

These questions are not entirely new to me. They have been woven through my work as a speech-language pathologist, yoga and meditation teacher, coach, teacher trainer, mother, and human being.

But I am meeting them again through a new lens.

Beginner’s mind, once more.

Earlier this week, I co-facilitated a training for undergraduate resident assistants and peer mentors on recognizing suicide risk and taking the first steps when they are concerned about someone.

It was serious, and sometimes heavy, material.

We talked about noticing changes. Asking direct questions. Listening. Staying with someone. Taking their distress seriously. Connecting them with additional support.

The people receiving the training were not being asked to become therapists. They were being asked to become more willing and able to notice another human being - and to move toward, rather than away from, that person.

That distinction feels important.

Most of us will encounter someone who is struggling. Someone whose pain frightens us. Someone whose experience we don’t understand and cannot solve.

We may worry that we’ll say the wrong thing.

We may want to reassure them too quickly.

We may be tempted to look away.

But often, what is needed first is not the perfect intervention. It is the willingness to be present. To ask. To listen. To take another person seriously.

To say, in one form or another: I see you. You matter. You don’t have to hold this alone.

Isn’t that really what we all want - and deserve?

Which brings me, perhaps inevitably, to AI.

I am fascinated by AI. Yes, I use it.

I’m impressed by it. Awed? Amazed? Slightly terrified?

All of the above.

I think (fear? hope?) we are only beginning to understand how profoundly it may (will?) alter how we work, learn, create, communicate, and relate to one another.

And I wonder how AI will affect my newly chosen career path: Will ChatGPT replace real, live therapists?

AI can do lots of things. It can offer information, help us identify patterns and find language for an experience, invite us to consider another perspective, and organize a tangle of thoughts. It is available at 2:19 a.m. It doesn’t get tired, distracted, impatient, or awkward when we say something difficult.

That is not nothing.

But I don’t believe it can replace the experience of sitting face-to-face (whether in three dimensions or through a two-dimensional Zoom square) with a real, live human being who sees you and offers authentic, nonjudgmental presence.

A human being whose nervous system is in the room with yours.

A human being who notices the slight change in your voice, the pause before you answer, the way your eyes move away when you say that everything is “fine.”

A human being who is affected by you …. not overwhelmed by you. One who doesn’t make your experience about them, and yet is genuinely touched by your humanity.

Healing does not happen only because someone gives us the right information or asks the perfect question.

It happens, at least in large and irreplaceable part, through relationship.

Through being known.

Through the gradual experience of showing more of ourselves and discovering that the other person has not turned away from us … and has, perhaps, even moved toward us.

I don’t think we should underestimate how powerful, and how irreducibly human, that is.

This doesn’t mean that technology is the enemy of connection. Sometimes it is what allows connection to happen at all. I have both witnessed and experienced real intimacy, vulnerability, and healing through Zoom. I have been deeply moved by music coming through my headphones and profoundly helped by words on a screen.

Technology made those experiences possible. But it wasn’t what made them human.

I keep returning to the difference between receiving something that has been generated for us and being in relationship with someone.

A therapist does not simply listen, analyze, and respond. They bring their humanity into the room: not to center themselves, but to meet ours. Something unfolds between two people that neither one could create alone or predict in advance.

Maybe that is what I felt so powerfully at Tanglewood. I wasn’t only listening to music. I was participating in something being created, in real time, by the wildly talented people onstage and the thousands of people all around me.

AI may become remarkably good at sounding human.

But sounding human is not the same as being one.

Speaking of opportunities to practice together (both in three actual dimensions and through a two-dimensional Zoom square) I have several upcoming programs at Kripalu:

I’ll be leading Essential Practices for Everyday Life: Practical Tools from the Kripalu Path three times: October 16–18, January 1–3, and February 5–7. It’s a weekend of accessible practices from yoga, meditation, breathwork, and Kripalu’s broader wisdom tradition - designed to support us not only while we’re at Kripalu, but in the beautiful messiness of our actual lives.

On December 15, I’ll be teaching an online workshop, The Great Work of Your Life: A New Year Dharma Reflection. Together, we’ll pause beneath the noise of goals and resolutions to listen for what truly calls us - and ask: What is life asking of me now?

And January 10–13, I’ll be co-leading Post-Treatment Life: A Retreat for Cancer Survivors and Thrivers with Dr. Amy Rothenberg. This program is for those navigating the complicated territory that can follow cancer treatment: relief and fear, gratitude and grief, uncertainty and possibility - and the question of how to live fully in a body and life that may feel changed.

You can learn more about all of my upcoming programs here.

I would love to be with you - whichever dimension works!

And if you come to campus, there’s nothing quite like being at the mother ship … inside the Kribubble … at Cry-paloo.

Whatever affectionate name you use for Kripalu, there is something special about being there, together, on the ancestral homelands of the Mohican people.

It is, as always, a pleasure to write to you.

Why did I wait so long?

xo,

Ilana

p.s. I’m curious: What will you always want a real, live human for? Tell me!

And if someone came to mind as you read, perhaps send this their way. ❤️

Share

THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT:

Yoga Outside

Saturdays | 8:00–9:00 a.m.
New time beginning September 1!

🌿 Through September: Andrews Greenhouse
🏠 Beginning in October: Munson Memorial Library

AT KRIPALU:

Essential Practices for Everyday Life

Practical Tools from the Kripalu Path
On campus: October 16–18, 2026 · January 1–3, 2027 · February 5–7, 2027

The Great Work of Your Life

A New Year Dharma Reflection
Online: December 15, 2026 · 5:30–7:00 p.m. ET

Post-Treatment Life

A Retreat for Cancer Survivors and Thrivers
On campus: January 10–13, 2027

Meditation in Motion

300-Hour Yoga Teacher Training Module
On campus: March 12–21, 2027

Products that are locally-produced, Ayurveda-inspired, hand-made with love
Shop here » with code ILANA15 for a 15% discount

Two ideas have stayed with me:

The creative part of the mind is always there. Make a date with it, and it will show up.

Don’t wait for inspiration, or until you have more time or confidence, or a fully formed idea.

Make a date.

Sit down with the blank page. Pick up the paintbrush. Walk into the woods. Step onto the yoga mat. Become quiet enough to notice what is waiting for your attention.

This is not about forcing something to happen. A date is an agreement to arrive, a gesture of interest, a willingness to be present without knowing exactly what will come of it.

In other words, it is a practice.

We sometimes imagine that practice is what we do after we become disciplined, inspired, or clear. But perhaps it is the other way around? We practice so that clarity can find us. We return again and again so that the creative, wise, attentive parts of us know where to meet us.

Death is a change, not a cessation.

Her poem “When Death Comes” begins not by softening death, but by giving it startling and sometimes frightening forms:

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;

She personifies death as hungry and decisive, arriving (as it often does) without asking our permission.

She doesn’t respond by turning away, but rather by meeting death with the same quality of attention she brought to the natural world and to life itself:

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

What if we approached death not (only) with fear, but with curiosity.

Curiosity doesn't deny the grief of leaving or being left. It doesn’t make death less mysterious or painful. But it DOES offer a different posture toward the unknown. Instead of bracing against the door, Oliver imagines stepping through it, wondering what might be on the other side.

Perhaps this is what it means to think of death as a change rather than only as a cessation. Something ends, yes. A body stops: prana, life force, no longer animating it. A familiar way of knowing someone disappears. But perhaps ending is not the whole story? Love changes form. A relationship changes form. A life continues through the people, places, and ways of seeing it has touched.

Oliver’s contemplation of death leads her immediately back toward life:

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

Consider eternity as another possibility. Why NOT?

Because death will come, she looks more closely at everything that is here.

She sees each life as both ordinary and entirely singular:

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

Perhaps this is one of the gifts of remembering that life is finite: not the demand to make every moment extraordinary, but the invitation to notice the extraordinary within the ordinary—the simple miracle of waking to a new day, the sound of a loved one’s laughter, cool rain on a hot summer afternoon, sunlight filtering through the trees.

Death does not make life meaningless in this poem. It makes life precious.

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

The poem eventually becomes less about what death might be like and more about how Oliver wants to have lived when it arrives:

When it’s over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

This isn’t a wish to have mastered life, but rather to sink into Mary’s own offering:

And then comes the line that feels, to me, like both a challenge and an invitation:

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

OOOF!

To be here without simply visiting may be one definition of practice.

Practice asks us to enter our lives more fully. To inhabit the body. To attend to what is in front of us. To make a date with creativity, with silence, with nature, with grief, with one another … and then to show up.

Perhaps we practice not because we can prevent change, loss, or death, but because practice teaches us how to be present for the life that is here now.

How to take the world into our arms.

How to be married to amazement.

How not merely to visit.

This question: what helps us participate more fully in the life we have now? is at the heart of two upcoming retreats I’ll be leading at Kripalu.

October 16-18, 2026 and January 1-3, 2027, I’ll join Cristie Newhart for Essential Practices for Everyday Life: Practical Tools from the Kripalu Path.

Through yoga, meditation, mindfulness, nature, and simple forms of self-care, we’ll explore practices that can support us not only while we are away on retreat, but in the middle of our actual lives: in our kitchens and workplaces, during transitions, and on ordinary mornings when showing up may matter more than doing anything perfectly.

January 10–13, I’ll co-lead Post-Treatment Life: A Retreat for Cancer Survivors and Thrivers with integrative medicine practitioner, author, and cancer survivor Dr. Amy Rothenberg.

Finishing treatment is often presented as an ending. But for many people, it is the beginning of another profound transition, one that may include lingering symptoms, uncertainty, changes in identity, and the question of how to live within a body and a life that have been altered.

Through education, reflection, movement, rest, and contemplative practice, we’ll offer practical ways to care for the body, calm the nervous system, reconnect with vitality, and support life beyond treatment.

Although these retreats are intended for different groups of people, they share a question:

What practices help us return to ourselves and participate more fully in the life we have now?

Not the life we thought we would have.

Not the life we might begin someday, when everything is settled.

This life.

Perhaps practice begins with something as simple as making a date: with creativity, with the body, with the natural world, with grief, with healing, or with the quiet part of ourselves we have not heard from lately.

We arrive.

We pay attention.

And something meets us there.

XO,

Ilana

P.S. Do you have a favorite Mary Oliver poem or line? I’d love to hear what has stayed with you.

THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT:

Yoga Outside

Saturdays | 7:30 am – 8:30 am | Andrew’s Greenhouse

KRIPALU RETREATS:

Essential Practices for Everyday Life

Practical tools from the Kripalu path
October 16-18, 2026
January 1-3, 2027

Post-Treatment Life

A retreat for cancer survivors and thrivers
January 10-13, 2027

Products that are locally-produced, Ayurveda-inspired, hand-made with love
Shop here » with code ILANA15 for a 15% discount

At 4:24 a.m. this morning, while most of Amherst was still asleep, the summer solstice arrived—the moment when Earth’s tilt brings the sun to its northernmost position in our sky.

Here in Amherst, the sun lingers above the horizon for more than fifteen hours and seventeen minutes, making this the longest day and shortest night of the year.

For the past few years, I have attended a gathering at the UMass Sunwheel to mark the astronomical change of season, gather in community, and learn about the seasonal positions of Earth, the sun, and the moon, as well as other tidbits of astronomy. There is a telescope set up that allows a close-up view of our star, which feels pretty amazing every time.

Perhaps you remember from my winter solstice post that the word solstice comes from the Latin words sol (sun) and sistere (to stand still).

Solstice = sun standing still

For a few days around the solstice, the sun appears to pause, rising and setting in nearly the same place before beginning its slow return south.

I find something comforting about that pause.

Something comforting in the return to a cycle that is both different and new, yet also deeply familiar.

The gift of nature doing what nature does: changing, morphing, transforming—always beginning again.

The sun, and this season of light, warmth, and space, remind me—again and again—of the light and warmth and space within me.

In the summer Ayurveda retreat I led a few weeks ago (yes, before it was officially summer), we stepped into—or rather, rested into—the intentions of space and earth.

Ayurveda, yoga’s sister science, reminds us of the wisdom and medicine of opposites and balance.

In summer, Ayurveda invites us to balance the energy of fire with the qualities of space and earth.

Space:

✨ do less

✨ leave an afternoon unscheduled

✨ watch the clouds drift by

✨ take a longer exhale

✨ spend time in silence

✨ sit on the porch and do absolutely nothing

✨ create space to hear your inner wisdom

✨ trust the fertile pause

Earth:

🌿 walk barefoot on the grass

🌿 sit against the trunk of a tree

🌿 dig your hands into the garden

🌿 savor seasonal foods (around here, strawberries and bok choy and lots of greens)

🌿 tend something living

🌿 move more slowly

🌿 root into what sustains you

🌿 trust the wisdom of the earth

On this longest day of the year, I find myself less interested in doing more and more interested in simply being here. Feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. Savoring the abundance of the season. Trusting the wisdom of cycles that continue whether I am striving or resting.

May this solstice bring you moments of space, grounding, and wonder.

As always, I offer this not as another thing to add to your summer “to-do” list, but as an invitation to pause and listen.

✨ What is asking for more space in your life?
🌿 What is asking you to put down roots?

May we all rest into the wisdom of this season.

XO,

Ilana

THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT:

Yoga Outside

Saturdays | 7:30 am – 8:30 am | Andrew’s Greenhouse

KRIPALU RETREAT: Essential Practices for Everyday Life

2 date options!
October 16-18, 2026
January 1-3, 2027 (registration coming soon)

Products that are locally-produced, Ayurveda-inspired, hand-made with love
Shop here » with code ILANA15 for a 15% discount

cook everything!

always trying new recipes, cooking with the seasons

By Amelia Beigel

Recipe inspo in my daughter’s Substack

{Is that true?}

I mean, if I’m being more honest, I’d say I have a whole bunch of things to share with you today … and every day, for that matter.

But I’ll start with these two … and see what else wants to make the cut.

the ache in your heart is holy

What do those words evoke in you?

Is there a word, or string of words, that stand out?

Well, if you’re intrigued, you can read all about it.

My friend, teacher, mentor, colleague, and all-around kick-ass human, Coby, wrote her second book - and it comes out this week.

If (when?) I write a book someday, I’d want my people shouting it from the rooftops. So, not only in the spirit of the golden rule (do unto others as you would have them do unto you), but perhaps even more so the platinum rule (do unto others as they would want done unto them) … I’m sharing this book with you.

To pique your interest, here are a few highlights:

What even is the ache?
From the scribbles I jotted down while Coby answered that question on a call last week for those of us who preordered the book:

• a longing, a calling, a pull toward

• any feeling that’s getting your attention in some way

• ache is not grief, but it can be … it could also be desire

• what I’m reaching for, and what is being pulled out of me

• an undeniable sensation

• the evolutionary pulse calling me forth into what’s next

• a calling in the heart - it does not have to be painful … it says, “go toward this”

• ache can be for: a new job, laughter, the planet, learning how to whittle a spoon

How do I work with the ache?

The book walks you through six stages:

• Acknowledging the Ache

• Allowing for the Ache

• Attending to Your Self

• Attuning to the Ache’s Wisdom

• Awakening to Your Wholeness and Holiness

• Appreciating the Ache, and the Aches to Come

This isn’t really a book to read so much as a book to engage with. It’s chock-full of practices: meditation, journaling, expressive art, and movement.

While I think acknowledging is an integral part of the process and paramount, I want to briefly share a practice for Attuning to the Ache’s Wisdom.

This journaling exercise is called The Sacred Sorting:

What is Real … Story … Sacred

This one, simple practice is sure to be a Pandora’s Box of insights and aha!s.

Well … that first thing ended up being longer than expected, and in the spirit of a current (or currently revisited) inquiry - less is more - I’m going to save #2 for next time.

Be on the lookout.

And if you get Coby’s book, let me (or her?) know which practice(s) call you in.

XOXOXO,
Ilana

Things to know about:

Upcoming Online Program
Introduction to Meditation
Kripalu Online Studio
Wednesdays in June, 6-7 pm EST

SILENT AUCTION!

Everyday Wellbeing, non profit 501 (c)(3), is having a silent auction/fundraiser (find it HERE!) that’s open now until June 5. There’s LOTS of goodies on it - check it out!

Yoga on Saturday mornings
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
*** Starting June 13: 7:45 am–8:45 am | Andrew’s Greenhouse / Yoga Outside ***
Donation-Based Class Info »

In purchasing FarmTrue’s locally-produced, Ayurveda-inspired, hand-made with love, utterly delightful products
Shop here » with code ILANA15 for a 15% discount

cook everything!

always trying new recipes, cooking with the seasons

By Amelia Beigel

My daughter just started a Substack - if you want recipe inspo, and to follow a 23 year old trying to find her way in the world through the portal of doing what she loves (cooking), check it out!

I mean, literally, where—in time and space—are you when you get a glimmer of knowing … an idea, a remembering, an a-ha!?

I have some of my best ideas in the shower.

I want to say that being out in nature is where I feel connected and free and open and receptive.

Which is true.

But …

AND …

Moments of afflatus don’t usually find me in nature.

They find me in the shower.

They find me while unloading groceries.

They find me while helping my son study for the SAT (yup, that’s why I used the word afflatus).

They find me in the middle of the prosaic (see what I did there?) moments of life…when I’m otherwise occupied and my mind has finally quieted a bit.

Trouble is, by the time I get out of the shower, I’ve often forgotten what—in a flash!—felt like the most important and interesting stroke of genius EVER.

Poof. Gone, like it never happened.

Truth be told, the same thing can happen when I cogitate (yes, the SAT is this Saturday) outside the shower.

I take my phone out to write down the diaphanous (😄) little thread of an idea in my Notes app, and suddenly my attention is hijacked by a text, an email, a reflexive opening of Instagram, or some other shiny interruption my brain leaps toward like a Mexican jumping bean.

Attention is slippery these days.

This post, in fact, first came to me while I was in the shower … three and a half weeks ago.

Time and life work funny like that.

An idea is born, then cast off, only to resurface later—in the exact time, place, and manner where it is ripe to be received.

And I haven’t even gotten to the topic of this post yet!

It’s a little like Mah Jongg, when you go through the whole Charleston and haven’t yet started playing the game.

(IYKYK.)

So what is the topic?

A few weeks ago, a friend at Kripalu—who is a real writer and author of an actual published book—asked me how my writing was going.

Actually, I think he may have asked, “Are you still writing?”

And I reflexively, semi-shamefully, regretfully said no.

No.

As if writing only counts when it’s formal.

As if writing only counts when it’s bound, printed, paid for, or praised.

As if these words, here, don’t count.

Then he told me he had started a Substack, and that this was how his writing practice was expressing itself these days.

And something simple but essential clicked into place.

Oh.

I am writing.

Maybe not in the way I once imagined.

Maybe not with fanfare or certainty.

But I am still showing up.

I am still here.

I am writing.

Sometimes we dismiss what is quietly growing because it doesn’t look dramatic.

Sometimes we miss what is already alive because we’re measuring it against some imagined standard.

Sometimes we miss what wants to be remembered because life moves fast, and space and silence are not given the seat at the head of the table they deserve.

You see, inspiration doesn’t only arrive on mountaintops or in moments of grand clarity.

It arrives in showers, chores, and flash cards.

It seems to appear when there is just enough space for us to notice it.

Maybe the ideas are always nearby.

Maybe what’s rare is not inspiration, but the quiet to receive it.

That’s one reason I keep returning to meditation.

Not because it makes us perfect, serene, or suddenly enlightened.

Not because it makes me have more shower-inspired strokes of genius, or actually act on them.

But because it simply offers a few moments of less noise, less grasping, less rush.

And sometimes, in that space, we remember what has been there all along.

If this speaks to you, I’m leading a 4-week online meditation series with Kripalu beginning soon.

We’ll gather each week to practice simple, accessible meditation, explore ways to bring more steadiness and ease into daily life, and create a little more spaciousness for insight, clarity, and inspiration to find us.

If you’d like to join me, I’d love to have you there.

xo,
Ilana

Feeling: like I haven’t done this section of my ‘Stack for a while - and I missed it!

Reading: I tore through the latest Wally Lamb last weekend - The River is Waiting - soooo good! (fair warning, it is dark, I mean - it is Wally Lamb …. but it’s sooo good!)

Creating: space for beauty, and the intention to luxuriate

Celebrating: finishing semester 2 of grad school!

Motherhood: transforming … only one child will be home this summer … a new era continues to be ushered in

Curious About: whole grain, low sugar baking … I took a great class at King Arthur Flour last weekend, but there was lots of white flour and white (and brown) cane sugar … can I make things equally as (or more?) delicious with ingredients my body prefers?

Ready For: spring cleaning, headlined by a revamp of my desk/office space

Things to know about:

Upcoming Online Program
Introduction to Meditation
Kripalu Online Studio
Wednesdays in June, 6-7 pm EST

Yoga on Saturday mornings
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
Donation-Based Class Info »

In purchasing FarmTrue’s locally-produced, Ayurveda-inspired, hand-made with love, utterly delightful products
Shop here » with code ILANA15 for a 15% discount

cook everything!

always trying new recipes, cooking with the seasons

By Amelia Beigel

My daughter just started a Substack - if you want recipe inspo, and to follow a 23 year old trying to find her way in the world through the portal of doing what she loves (cooking), check it out!

One of my favorite remembrances:
Two things can be true at the same time.

Yes, this can be true.
And, yes, that can be true.

Yes, I want to be writing this (at 6:45am on a Wednesday).
And, yes, I also want to be doing my morning puzzles—Wordle, Quordle, Octordle, Nerdle, Waffle (two… or three), Contexto, Strands, Connections, Seattle Times Mini, Raddle, Pips, Crossplay…
Sheesh. My brain hurts—in the best way—just looking at that list.

Yes, I want to write about this.
And, yes, I want to write about that.

Yes, I feel like I’m returning to myself after these last few months.
And, yes, I never actually left.

Yes, I am happy and grateful.
And, yes, I wonder how I can feel any hint of that as the world around me seems to be crumbling.

Yes, I am scared.
And, yes, I have a deep, steady faith that somehow, all will be okay.

Yes, I am actually terrified.
And, yes… that faith is still here.

Yes, I’ll be sipping my Pitta-balancing, full moon–steeped tea all day.
And, yes, I’ll also renew my car registration, do the laundry, and continue to ignore the birthday decorations still hanging since November.

Yes, I’m still writing in a sort of stream-of-consciousness spiral.
And, yes, there is something here worth sharing.

Yes, I keep writing “yes”… and “and, yes.”
And, no is also valid.

Yes, I have a hard time saying no.
And, no is a complete sentence that requires no explanation.

Yes, I’ve been a little out of sorts.
And, honestly, I don’t really give a fuck.

Yes, I forgot I had class Monday night (7:15–9:00).
And, yes, I showed up at 8:32.

Yes, it was fine.
And, no, I don’t care if I don’t get a 4.0 this semester.

Yes, that’s true.
And… I do still want the 4.0.

Yes, I went back to teaching last week.
And, it was a bumpy landing.

Yes, I’m glad to be back.
And, no, I’m not done grieving.

Yes, “they” say grief never ends.
And, “they” say a lot of things.

Yes, this past year and a half has been a lot.
And… maybe that’s part of the gift.

Yes, I could ask, “Why me?”
And, as David Kessler says, maybe the better question is, “Why not me?”

Yes, this is my first Passover without my mom.
And, I don’t know the “right” way to move through it.

Yes, I know there is no right way.
And, it still feels like the right question to sit with.

Yes, I could keep going.
And, yes, it’s time to remember the practice of enough.

Yes, I’m curious…
And, I really want to know

What are you holding right now?

Try this:
Name one “yes” that feels true for you in this moment.
Then gently ask—what else is also true?

Let them both belong.

What is your Yes… And?

If you feel like sharing, I’d love to witness it.

And… on a completely different note:
A few months ago, I had a really sweet conversation with my friend and colleague Jon Orsini on his Mindfulness Unscripted podcast. Have a listen if it calls to you.

Breathwork with Jon

How to Find Your Life Purpose (Dharma) – Practical Tools for Clarity & Alignment

Convo w Ilana Beigel (Kripalu faculty) - a yoga, meditation, and dharma teacher and psychotherapist-in-training. Through ancient practices made relevant for today, she helps people reconnect with who they truly are and live with joy, clarity, and ease. IG: @ilanabeigel , ilanab.com…

Listen now

6 months ago · Breathwork with Jon

Thanks for being in this dance of life and inquiry with me.

xo,
Ilana

Join me:

For Yoga on Saturday mornings
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
Donation-Based Class Info »

In purchasing FarmTrue’s locally-produced, Ayurveda-inspired, hand-made with love, utterly delightful products
Shop here » with code ILANA15 for a 15% discount

I should be doing my taxes.

Or working on the eight-page paper due tomorrow.

Or the six-page paper due next week.

Or preparing my Amazon returns.

Or drying my hair.

Or prepping for the workshop I teach Monday.

Or cleaning the house.

Or doing laundry.

Or a gazillion other things I’ve ignored for the past three weeks.

Three weeks ago today, I found out my mom had “days to weeks” left to live.

Ten days later, she was gone.

So here I am, not ready for my tax appointment in two days.

I didn’t even know I had a paper due tomorrow until a classmate texted, asking if I’d found an article in support of foster care.

I ordered six pairs of black pants for my son - he’s growing like a weed and only had one nice pair left: the ones from my brother’s funeral last year, which no longer fit. Men’s sizes are a nightmare: 30, 31, 32 waist? 30, 31, 32 length? The seemingly endless combinations. Hence, six pairs ordered, five have to go back.

I finally found the energy to shower. Drying my hair? Not happening. That’s asking too much of me tonight. Grief is funny like that.

I taught twice last week. It felt familiar, easeful, and sometimes I slipped into flow — fleeting moments when reality slipped away. Dreamy, but always with a cost: the reminder of what was waiting for me on the other side.

I wasn’t going to do a eulogy.

I thought I couldn’t. I thought I didn’t have the words, the wherewithal, or the energy.

And then, at the very last minute, I changed my mind.

I wrote it in fragments over a few days, mostly in my head, and random phrases and ideas on my phone Notes app, until the final version came together the morning of the funeral.

By then, I was drained - emotionally, physically, psychically. And yet, in that depleted state, I found the words I needed to say. Words that needed to be said.

Here’s what I shared:

Less than a year and a half ago, I stood right here while many of you sat right there, and I shared the poem Adrift by Mark Nepo - the one that begins, Everything is beautiful and I am so sad. This is how the heart makes a duet of Wonder and Grief.

And here we are again.
Living in that duet.

Only now, this time, it feels slightly different - more like a swirl - everything at once.

Today, I want to share a poem I came across a few weeks ago, shortly after we learned Mom’s cancer had returned. It’s titled For When People Ask by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer.

I want a word that means
okay and not okay,
more than that: a word that means
devastated and stunned with joy.
I want the word that says
I feel it all all at once.
The heart is not like a songbird
singing only one note at a time,
more like a Tuvan throat singer
able to sing both a drone
and simultaneously
two or three harmonics high above it—
a sound, the Tuvans say,
that gives the impression
of wind swirling among rocks.
The heart understands swirl,
how the churning of opposite feelings
weaves through us like an insistent breeze
leads us wordlessly deeper into ourselves,
blesses us with paradox
so we might walk more openly
into this world so rife with devastation,
this world so ripe with joy.

this world so rife with devastation,
this world so ripe with joy.

A few days ago, I was looking back through my text thread with my mom - scrolling and scrolling - and I lost count of how many times she shared about her decision not to do the liver biopsy, not to do more chemo, how the doctors supported her choice … and every text ended with, “Are you okay?”

She was, objectively, the worst texter. Autocorrect didn’t stand a chance. And yet somehow, no matter how garbled the message, “Are you okay?” always came through.

She always wanted to know if I was okay.

She was the one facing her own mortality, and she asked me incessantly if I was okay.

We had, as many mothers and daughters do, a complicated relationship. And yet, I never questioned her love, her care, her concern for me.

Most of the time, I responded to her “are you okay” with a simple, “Yup.”

Because how do you tell your dying mother that you are not okay? And, honestly … that wasn’t the truth.

There is no word that means okay and not okay. There are no words to describe the swirl - the drone and the harmonics - of losing a mother.

Was I okay? Am I okay? Yes. And also, no.

I mean … is anyone really ever okay with their mom dying?

And yet, it is the natural cycle.

This makes so much more sense than the last time we were here, when the natural order of things was turned upside down.

And yet, knowing it is natural doesn’t make it easy. It just makes it real.

To say this is devastating feels only partly true.

As Mom texted me just last week: “I am 80. I am not young. I hope u share my comfort with the decision … Are you ok?”

To say I’m joyful, perhaps obviously, also feels wrong.

And yet … today, I choose to celebrate my mom and her life.

A life that was rife with devastation - including living with immense and continual physical struggles since she was nine years old; more than three decades of managing my brother’s illness; and receiving a terrible cancer diagnosis barely on the heels of mourning his death.

A life that was ripe with joy - because she knew how hard things could be, she made sure to notice and celebrate when times were good. She delighted in the small, everyday pleasures: the smell of her beloved Beautiful perfume (which I couldn’t stand!), the sound of classical music filling a room, fresh flowers on the table, pictures and stories of her grandkids - and yours - and, of course, pretty much everything she ate, especially if I or someone in my family made it: “Mmmm, delicious! This is the best (fill in the blank) I’ve ever had.”

She carried that same joy into cherished celebrations: family reunions, birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays where the table had been set and the food cooked weeks in advance; as well as the small random gatherings where family and friends ate, talked, played, and simply had time to be together.

She was so proud of the woman and mother I had become - telling me in every birthday card and Mother’s Day card, and every time she saw my name or one of my programs in Kripalu’s catalog or website. So proud of her grandchildren, calling or texting me every time Amelia shared a snippet about her newfound adult life, every time Liza posted a new creation on her Instagram or was featured on the Chabad’s social media or newsletter, every time Nate gave a glimmer of forward progress in his college search.

One of the final things she said to me, last week, was that she could leave this earth in peace, knowing what amazing kids I had, what a great family I had. I brought her so much joy. We brought her so much joy. You all brought her so much joy.

I am both amazed, and not all surprised, by the outpouring of love, support and connection I witnessed from you all over the last year. From the 80th birthday party that almost all her siblings, nieces, nephews and great nieces and nephews made the effort to attend, to all the in-person visits, phone calls and Face Times she had with so many of you over the last weeks. I would say it was like you all came out of the woodwork, but the truth is, you never disappeared. My mother and I were different in many ways, one of them being I am much more private and introverted. To her - you all, in addition to us, were her everything. I remember one of the best days of my childhood being when we got call waiting because when I needed to get picked up from school, I wouldn’t have to put a dime in the pay phone 100 times before finally getting through to let her know. I imagine there are hundreds of thousands of hours she has spent on the phone, and in person, with many of you. I know we will all miss that joy she brought to the fullness of our lives, and the rhythm of our ordinary days.

Yes she knew how to celebrate … and she also knew how to fight.

In her earliest days, she fought to stay alive when the odds were against her. As a child, she fought to walk. In her later years, she fought once again to walk - which to her meant without a walker.

She fought for my brother. She fought for what she believed in - telling anyone who would listen how she was a pioneer: feminism, civil rights, natural childbirth. She fought to educate doctors not on the scientific, but on the human side of medicine.

In many ways, I think she was often fighting for her own inner peace.

This, though - cancer and the inevitability of mortality, she did not fight. She faced it head-on.

In this last chapter of her life, she carried with her words that had spoken to her after Josh died:

Kol ha’olam kulo gesher tzar me’od
v’ha’ikar lo l’fached klal

“The whole entire world is a very narrow bridge,
and the main thing is to have no fear at all.”

Her heart knew fear. Her soul knew fear. Her DNA knew fear and trauma. She knew how to be devastated. AND she intentionally cultivated joy.

Yes, she knew how to fight - but this time, she chose only joy.

Yes, she treated the cancer at first, but she never fought her dying.
Instead, she left us with something else.

The chance to mourn.
And the chance to celebrate.

To remember her laugh, her yelling, her coffee talk, her incomprehensible texts, her matzo ball soup and brisket, her obsession with her hair (and to a lesser extent, mine), her need for slow - and even slower than that - mornings, her “witchiness,” her determination, her conviction, her loud, yet quiet love.

Even in devastation, there is ripeness.
Even in endings, there is love.

And that is what I choose to hold today -
her love,
her courage,
her joy -
swirling through me,
and through all of us.

I should be finishing (ok, starting…) the papers.

Or doing the taxes.

Or folding the laundry.

Or packing up the Amazon returns.

But I’m not.

Tonight, the house is quiet. My daughters have returned to their lives. My husband and son are off on a ski weekend. I’m here in my pajamas, wet hair and all, ready to watch Brandi Carlile live from Minneapolis — with a bowl of ice cream.

I’m alone. Finally alone. I miss her — her voice, her laugh, the push and pull between us.

And yet … there’s freedom too. Freedom to say what I couldn’t before, knowing she won’t read it.

Tonight, that is enough.

xo,
Ilana

p.s. Thank you for holding my words and heart. There will be more as I move through this loss.

Offerings

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Inspired by Ayurveda, FarmTrue creates hand-crafted ghee, body care, and wellness products that support sleep, digestion, and energy—the three pillars of health. Everything is made in small batches with deep attention to sourcing, sustainability, and nourishment.

If you’re interested, you can shop here and use the code ILANA15 for an exclusive discount.

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.

Kripalu is still running their best deal (but not for long!), unlimited access to the Kripalu Online Studio for just $299/year.

🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
In our winter home - the beautiful community hall of the Munson Memorial Building.
Donation-Based Class Info »


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »


🌊 Meditation in Motion: The Kripalu Approach to Vinyasa
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 20-29, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Deepen your practice, strengthen your teaching, and discover the transformative power of breath and movement in this Kripalu Vinyasa Yoga Teacher Training.
Learn More & Register »

There was a clear consensus: simply being human in these times.

Yes. So much yes.

I find myself in a liminal space—unsure what to say, yet equally sure that saying nothing doesn’t feel right. Silence can be wise. And sometimes, silence can feel like a kind of turning away. I’m navigating that edge, trying to listen for what wants to be spoken … and what wants to be held.

Lately, I’ve been returning to a familiar source for guidance. I’ve been re-reading Dharma Then Moksha: The Untold Story of Swami Kripalu, in my ongoing search for teachings, wisdom, stories, and practices that can steady me. That can anchor me. That tether me to something enduring and true, and help propel me forward into action—with skill, presence, and purpose.

For nearly thirty years now, Swami Kripalu’s teachings have offered me the balm my soul seems to seek again and again.

This time through the book, one particular passage has stopped me in my tracks. I keep rereading it, letting it work on me. It feels especially alive right now: food for thought in a moment when words feel both powerful and precarious.

Perhaps it will be for you, too.

I’ve emphasized lines that really landed for me - see what speaks to you as you read.

{A bit of context: In 1958, at the age of 45, Swami Kripalu took a twelve-year vow of silence, communicating only by chalkboard.}

Observing a vow of silence is not possible unless one also studies holy books, engages in prayer, eats moderately and fasts when called for, maintains celibacy, and exercises. Even then the tongue may cease to move while the mind remains active and keeps right on ticking. So meditation must be practiced for the mind to become still and for real silence to be born. This inner silence only comes in the pure consciousness of samadhi, which is not easily obtained. Only by taking refuge in all these disciplines can the true goal of a vow of silence be achieved.

Most people cannot remain silent all day but they can learn to curb their tongue. Practicing mauna (silence) or mitdarshan (speaking only when necessary) one morning a week, on holy days, or while [on retreat] at an ashram can be a means to learning how to check our speech. But the most auspicious moment for anyone to take a vow of silence is when a disturbance arises in the mind. We all know that if we are upset and react quickly to criticism with defensiveness the result is never good. Nor is it skillful for us to reprimand others without forethought. It is much better to be reticent and think the matter over calmly first. Otherwise the swords of attack and retaliation injure everyone concerned. When our mind is in a disturbed state, we cannot listen carefully to others or give good counsel. So it makes sense to be hesitant to speak when our mind is upset, but just remaining verbally silent is not enough. Our actions may proclaim our displeasure loud and clear. An angry husband or wife can say nothing but disturb everyone by banging about the house.

As pebbles tossed into a lake produce ripples, a speaker’s words produce impressions in the mind of a listener. A person speaking with affection from a calm mind will create similar feelings in the mind of a listener. A person speaking bitter words born of a disturbed mind will cause reciprocal feelings to arise in the listener. This is how speech has the power to make an enemy of a friend, or a friend of an enemy. Truly the spoken word is the most important factor in determining an individual’s relationship with the rest of the world.

A wise person’s words may be few but are worth more than diamonds, rubies and pearls. However we talk and talk, which shows that we do not value our words. Until we cease considering our own speech to be trifling and choose our words consciously, others will not value what we have to say. We are not alone in this, as all those around us also talk too much, so that together we feel the whole world is full of nothing but upsets and disturbances. This is why it’s said that silence is more useful to a worldly man than a detached swami. Thankfully there is one time in which everyone practices silence. After we fall asleep, there is no more speaking. While this silence provides a respite, it doesn’t help us learn to control our speech in the waking state.

If we genuinely want to cease being garrulous and quarrelsome, the practice of silence can help us dispose of old vices and advance to new virtues. The peaceful mind that results will not pollute the atmosphere with untruth but spread the perfume of sweet speech, radiate the light of truth, and act to bring others profound happiness. It takes all the strength and ingenuity of a giant to control the elf of the tongue. Yet a person who succeeds in rooting out bitter speech and wicked actions can win the world and reach God.

I find myself turning these words—and these teachings—over and over in my mind and heart. I keep asking: What is the consequence of silence when harm is occurring and injustice is reigning? When does silence become skillful—and when does it become a form of withdrawal?

As I navigate this edge between silence and speech, I return to a question Swami Kripalu is said to have posed: Are your words an improvement over silence?

For me, the invitation of contemplative practice has always been to go inward—not as an end in itself, but for the sake of going outward. We tend to the inner world so that when we speak and act in the collective, we do so with clarity, steadiness, and care.

This is why how we use our voices matters. Silence is essential for discernment and grounding. And there are moments—like this one—when speech and action are essential for justice. Skillful speech isn’t just spiritual; in times of harm and urgency, it becomes a practice of accountability, truth-telling, and advocacy. The same awareness that helps us pause before reacting can help us choose words—and actions—that protect life, name injustice, and stand with those most vulnerable.

If you feel moved to act, one practical place to begin is civic engagement. I encourage you to visit 5calls.org, a simple tool that helps you contact your representatives about urgent issues. Small, consistent actions—taken together—can ripple outward, shaping policy, demanding accountability, and offering real solidarity.

In times like these, saying less—but saying what matters—can be both a practice of presence and a form of righteous action.

xo,
Ilana

P.S. One last thing.

I try to lend my voice only when it feels like an improvement over silence. Supporting small, values-driven businesses created with care, integrity, and love is one way I live that practice.

🧈 FarmTrue
My dear friend and colleague Emilie Reid is a co-owner of FarmTrue, a company rooted in connection—to ourselves, one another, and the natural world.

Inspired by Ayurveda, FarmTrue creates hand-crafted ghee, body care, and wellness products that support sleep, digestion, and energy—the three pillars of health. Everything is made in small batches with deep attention to sourcing, sustainability, and nourishment.

If you’re interested, you can shop here and use the code ILANA15 for an exclusive discount.

Supporting one another—through our voices, our actions, and even our purchasing choices—can be a quiet, meaningful form of alignment.

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.

Kripalu is still running their best deal (but not for long!), unlimited access to the Kripalu Online Studio for just $299/year.

🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
In our winter home - the beautiful community hall of the Munson Memorial Building.
Donation-Based Class Info »

📖 The Great Work of Your Life: Awaken To Your True Self
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6-8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Awaken to your purpose through yoga, reflection, and the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita in this transformative weekend workshop.
Learn More & Register»


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »


🌊 Meditation in Motion: The Kripalu Approach to Vinyasa
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 20-29, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Deepen your practice, strengthen your teaching, and discover the transformative power of breath and movement in this Kripalu Vinyasa Yoga Teacher Training.
Learn More & Register »

Sometimes I’m teeming with ideas and can barely keep up with them. Other times, weeks — or (what feels like) months — pass without a word, and a quiet urgency creeps in. That kind of motivation rarely sparks creativity.

Recently, my last post — 5 Things I Learned In My First Semester Of MSW School — landed more than I expected. Many of you, online and in real life, told me it felt interesting, engaging, even thought-provoking.

My very honest takeaway? Wow — someone actually read it.

So here I am — at 5:24 pm on New Year’s Eve — feeling genuinely delighted to write again. What’s arriving is familiar and friendly: a new Top 5 list of reflections, intentions, and small experiments to carry forward into 2026.

It feels fitting, on this threshold between years, to pause and name what’s been noticed, learned, and lived. I hope something here resonates — feels interesting, engaging, thought-provoking … fill in the blank.

Thanks for being here. Thanks for reading. And thanks for crossing into whatever comes next with me.

1. I still don’t like New Year’s resolutions

I never have. And yet, every year around this time, a small, hopeful voice pipes up: maybe this will be the year.

Last year, instead of making a resolution, I tried something that felt more humane: I set an intention. The intention was to buy no more than five new clothing items all year. 🛍️

It was part cost-savings, part environmental concern, and part experiment in restraint. I didn’t succeed — but I did pay attention. I noticed my habits, my impulses, and the stories I tell myself about what I “need”. And that, it turns out, counts for something.

So now, in 2026, I get to up the ante and aim for just six new items this year. Not because I failed, but because I’m continuing the conversation.

Which brings me to one of my favorite mottos, and one I seem to live by whether I mean to or not: begin again.

2. I do like to have a “word of the year”

Last year, my word was alignment. In years past it’s been create, refine, clarity, abundance … you get the idea.

This year?

F L O W 🌊

Not as something to achieve, but something to practice — in my body, in my schedule, in my expectations.

Flow might look like listening sooner when something feels off. It might mean loosening my grip on how I think things should go, and responding to what’s actually here instead.

May I flow with what is.
May I not fight reality.
And when I forget — may I begin again.
May it be so.

3. I also like a year-end reflection

For nearly the last decade, this has taken the form of a meeting with my dharma group to do a dharma mapping exercise.

It’s part meditation, part journaling, part conversation, and part creative expression — think big sheets of paper, markers, crayons, colored pencils, stickers. These few hours, usually in the first days of a new year, have become a touchstone for me: a ritual moment at the threshold between what has been and what’s beginning.

A map is both a practical tool — something you refer to when you’re trying to get from point A to point B — and a visual representation of an area. 🗺️

In this case, the area is the life that is mine, right here, right now. And when I inevitably find myself asking, what next?, the map helps offer some direction.

Dharma mapping is my favorite way to reflect at the end of a year … or anytime, really.

I learned this practice almost a decade ago at The Great Work of Your Life retreat with the one and only Stephen Cope. And now, in a turn of events that still surprises me, I get to lead this very retreat. If you’re curious to learn and experience this practice yourself, you can join me at Kripalu in March. It won’t be too late, or too far into 2026.

And remember — you can always begin again.

4. I welcome new practices

Tonight I’m gathering with friends for dessert (individual lemon trifles 🍋), games, and some kind of year-end ritual.

I offered to “bring ideas for a turn-of-the-year ceremony / ritual / reflection thingamahooby” (yes, that is my exact text), but turns out - I didn’t really have any ideas, yet.

I took a break from writing this post to add the final layer of whipped cream and, as one does, got distracted by checking my email. There, as if on cue, the solution appeared.

I opened a Substack post from someone I follow — a year-end listicle of her own.

Here’s the TL;DR, in case you want a New Year’s Eve writing exercise too:
Invite everyone to write a thank-you note to 2025, repeating “Thank you for…” as many times as needed until the letter feels complete.

I read those words and knew immediately: Eureka. That’s it. That’s our thingamahooby.

I love being reminded that new practices don’t have to be invented from scratch. Sometimes they’re borrowed, sometimes they arrive at the last minute, and sometimes they show up exactly when you need them.

And that’s what reflection does too — it shows up, quietly guiding us as we step forward into the new year …

5. I reflect, then begin again

Before we leap into 2026, I invite you to pause and take stock. (Even if you’re reading this after New Year’s.)

Reflection isn’t about judgment — it’s about noticing what worked, what didn’t, what surprised you, and what brought you joy.

It’s a chance to thank the year that was — every twist, turn, lesson, and delight — and to see clearly what you want to carry forward. And then, once you’ve looked back, you can step forward with intention, curiosity, and yes, the courage to start anew.

Reflection is the gift we give ourselves: a moment to honor what was, and to imagine what can be. 🪷

So here’s to noticing what’s been, savoring what’s here, and stepping into what’s next with curiosity, kindness, and a willingness to begin again. Thank you, 2025, for the lessons, the laughter, and even the chaos.

As I pause and reflect, I’d love to hear yours: what’s your word of the year for 2026? Share it in the comments — let’s inspire each other as we step into the new year.

Here’s to closing one year with gratitude and curiosity, and stepping into the next with openness.

xo,
Ilana

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.

Kripalu is still running their best deal all year, unlimited access to the Kripalu Online Studio for just $299/year.

🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
In our winter home - the beautiful community hall of the Munson Memorial Building.
Donation-Based Class Info »

Amherst locals: keep an eye on the Everyday Wellbeing website for special pop-up events like the Evening Exhale I led last night 🕯️

📖 The Great Work of Your Life: Awaken To Your True Self
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6-8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Awaken to your purpose through yoga, reflection, and the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita in this transformative weekend workshop.
Learn More & Register»


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »


🌊 Meditation in Motion: The Kripalu Approach to Vinyasa
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 20-29, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Deepen your practice, strengthen your teaching, and discover the transformative power of breath and movement in this Kripalu Vinyasa Yoga Teacher Training.
Learn More & Register »

Cue the celebration 🥳🎉🙌🏼

I’m slowly stilling the swirl of the past 15 weeks: readings, papers, theories, Zoom discussions, and more APA formatting than one human should ever have to endure.

As I sit with the echo of the semester and notice what rises to the surface, a few standouts emerge - learnings, yes, but also simple rememberings. Reminders. Reflections.

Here are five insights that rose to the top - things that might be interesting to you and that I know will be valuable for me to revisit. My future self will thank my present self for memorializing them.

1. Being Unhoused Is Not an Individual Failure — It’s a Systems Failure

Being unhoused (or “houseless” / vs. homeless) is almost never about personal failure - and framing it that way causes real harm. The truth is that people become unhoused when systems fail to meet their basic needs, not because they’re addicts or lazy or “making bad choices”.

Housing First is an approach that prioritizes providing stable housing before addressing other challenges, like employment, substance use, or mental health. Housing is treated as a human right, not a reward. Evidence shows that when people are stably housed, they are far better able to access treatment, work toward recovery, and regain stability in their lives.

Yet society often criminalizes unhoused people - through anti-camping laws, forced removal of people and their belongings in “sweeps”, policing of public spaces, or even ticketing people for sleeping in cars. This approach punishes people for the conditions created by inadequate systems instead of addressing root causes.

Another pervasive myth is that addiction causes homelessness. The reality is far more complex. Addiction is often a symptom of trauma, poverty, or lack of access to healthcare, not a cause of someone losing housing. Many unhoused people do not struggle with addiction at all, and many people with substance use challenges are housed.

Shifting language and mindset matters. Referring to someone as “unhoused” rather than “homeless” reminds us that housing status is temporary, not identity, and that every person deserves dignity, safety, and opportunity.

➡ Want to know more? check out this video and/or this one

2. Internal Family Systems (IFS) Deepened My Understanding of the Parts We All Carry

I first encountered IFS many years ago through Richard Schwartz’s nonclinical book No Bad Parts, so I wasn’t new to the theory that we are made of multiple internal parts. What this semester added was a deeper, clinical perspective on how these parts interact, how they show up in therapy, and how they connect to systems outside ourselves.

IFS identifies three broad types of parts:

• Managers — planners, perfectionists, and controllers who try to keep life orderly and protect us from pain.

• Firefighters — reactive parts that jump in when we feel overwhelmed, often numbing or distracting us.

• Exiles — younger, wounded parts carrying shame, fear, or trauma.

The theory emphasizes that all parts are trying to help, even when their strategies feel harmful or confusing. Avoidance, self-criticism, or overworking aren’t “failings”, they’re protective strategies.

At the center is the Self, the calm, compassionate core that Schwartz describes with the “8 Cs”: calm, curious, compassionate, confident, courageous, clear, creative, and connected. When Self leads, parts relax, and internal harmony becomes possible.

This semester reinforced that IFS isn’t just a therapeutic model - it’s a lens for understanding behavior, reducing judgment, and cultivating curiosity and compassion. It also highlighted ways I can integrate IFS into social work practice: helping clients recognize, dialogue with, and ultimately trust their protective parts, all while connecting to their Self.

3. “Killing Us Softly” Revealed How Advertising Teaches Women to Disappear

Watching Jean Kilbourne’s Killing Us Softly was infuriating in the best way - the kind of anger that wakes you up and sharpens your clarity.

Kilbourne illustrates how advertising doesn’t just sell products; it sells a worldview. Through both subtle imagery and overt labeling, advertising constructs a discourse that positions women as less than. Women’s bodies are fragmented - reduced to the parts culture obsesses over: breasts, legs, lips. This fragmentation conveys a message: a woman’s worth lies not in her whole self but in the prettiest, smallest, most “desirable” pieces.

Thinness is idealized to the point of literal erasure - sizes 0 and 00 suggesting that women should shrink - to take up less space, have fewer needs, apologize for existing.

It also pushed me to notice the ways these messages have shaped my own self-perception over time. Becoming conscious of that influence feels like the first step in loosening its grip and helping others do the same.

4. The Biopsychosocialspiritual Model Reminded Me Why Spirituality Matters

I was thrilled to see the word spiritual explicitly included in a core social work model. So much of my yoga teaching and my own healing has been guided by a belief that humans are more than bodies and brains - we’re meaning-makers, purpose-seekers, beings with inner lives that matter.

The biopsychosocialspiritual model affirms that:

• Biology impacts mental health

• Psychology shapes coping and worldview

• Social systems determine access and inequality

• Spirituality - however a person defines it - anchors identity, purpose, and resilience

Spirituality doesn’t require religious belief. It simply recognizes that people have an inner life - a sense of connectedness, meaning, or something-larger-than-me - that shows up in healing work. Including spirituality makes social work feel more human, more whole, and more aligned with what actually helps people move through pain.

5. Bronfenbrenner’s Systems Theory Made Everything Make Sense

Ecological systems theory frames every person as living inside nested systems - from the intimate microsystem of family, school, and close relationships to the macrosystem of culture, laws, and social norms. It also includes the mesosystem, which connects different environments; the exosystem, which affects someone indirectly (like a parent’s workplace or a mortgage company going bankrupt); and the chronosystem, which considers the impact of time and history.

This framework helped clarify how oppression operates across layers - from internalized beliefs to institutional practices, and healing must address both internal systems (IFS and more) and external systems (housing, healthcare, economic policies).

It offered a structure for what I already believed: individuals don’t suffer in a vacuum. We suffer in context. And we heal there, too.

In Closing

There — now you’ve (sorta, kinda, not really at all) completed a semester of an MSW program.

If you’ve made it this far, you’ve likely found something that piqued your interest - maybe something that touched your heart, stirred your mind, sparked curiosity, or made you pause for a moment.

I believe - and maybe you do too - that the more people thinking about and engaging with these questions (and the countless others they lead to), the more just, kind, compassionate, equitable, loving, and connected our world can become.

Doesn’t that sound pretty wonderful?

Thanks for coming along on this little trip down Semester 1 lane. Only five more to go. :)

xo,
Ilana

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
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Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
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🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
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In our winter home - the beautiful community hall of the Munson Memorial Building.
Donation-Based Class Info »

‼️ FEATURED OFFERING:‼️
📖 The Great Work of Your Life: Awaken To Your True Self
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6-8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Awaken to your purpose through yoga, reflection, and the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita in this transformative weekend workshop.
Learn More & Register»


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »


🌊 Meditation in Motion: The Kripalu Approach to Vinyasa
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 20-29, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Deepen your practice, strengthen your teaching, and discover the transformative power of breath and movement in this Kripalu Vinyasa Yoga Teacher Training.
Learn More & Register »

6:01 a.m.
My 16-year-old pushed the door open just enough to whisper, in his trademark early-morning growl: “Gym? I’m leaving in fifteen.”

This has become the new rhythm of our relationship. Last year I had to take him. This year he takes me.
He has his license now. He doesn’t need me.
Which means that every morning he chooses me.

Somehow that small shift - being wanted rather than required - feels like its own tiny birthday gift. 🎁

8:23 a.m.
We’re home from the gym. My girls (okay, my young women) are home for the holiday week, and right now they’re out hunting for something TBD for my birthday breakfast. I am instructed to stay put. And stay hungry. 🥐

But honestly, I feel so satiated already. My brood lovingly working together (no small miracle) to show me their love and attention - that’s enough right there. ❤️

9:05 a.m.
I’ve eaten the entire raspberry oat muffin, a few bites of an energy ball, part of a chocolate-chip cookie, and half a mug of coffee. I’m curious how many more little timestamps today will become part of this post - how long it will take, how many ordinary moments will want to be witnessed and memorialized in this offering.

10:33 a.m.
I’ve completed all my usual daily games (Wordle, Quordle, Octordle, Nerdle, Waffle, Contexto, Connections, Strands, Pips, the Seattle Times Mini), as well as some birthday extras: backgammon and Rummikub “tournaments” (best of 3) with my daughter - losing both in a sweep and reverse sweep. I lost the games, but I won the mom lottery.

The rest of the birthday holds lots of prep (hosting 17 for Turkey Day tomorrow) some more games (Mahjong with a bestie, family games still TBD), my birthday sundae at Herrell’s, and ice cream cake. 🍨

And, of course, finishing this post for you.

Because connection is important. Even this virtual kind. 💻

Did you know that loneliness is as harmful to your health as smoking or obesity? Research shows that strong social ties can boost survival just as much as quitting smoking. And yet, many of us underestimate how vital human connection really is.

Sated from breakfast, anticipating ice cream, and thinking about the people I’ll see tomorrow, I’m thinking about the layers of celebration - and layers of life. In yoga, these are called the koshas. And on my 51st birthday, I want to honor them, and me, and you.

So I’ve gathered 51 small things (ten for each kosha) that capture what I’ve learned, what I notice, and what I want to remember. Some are reminders, some are celebrations, and some are small simple truths worth naming.

Anamaya Kosha - Physical Body

1. Andrea Gibson reminds us to simply (and profoundly) be thankful to have a body

2. Glennon Doyle reminds us to make peace with the body … and to make peace with the body

3. Lift the weights

4. Drink the water

5. Douse the oil

6. Go outside - feel the grass, the air on your skin, the fresh air in your lungs

7. Stand tall, even if no one is watching

8. Hug yourself like you would someone you love

9. Put your legs up the wall: give your body a pause, a stretch, a little surrender

10. Offer your body a gift of presence, as Thich Nhat Hanh teaches: breathe into it, move with awareness, and silently thank it for carrying you through life

Pranamaya Kosha - Energy Body

11. Take a deep, conscious breath and feel it fill every corner of your body

12. Notice the spaces between - energy flows there

13. Where attention goes, energy flows (see above)

14. Breathing in, I know I am breathing in; breathing out, I know I am breathing out (Thanks again, Thich Nhat Hanh)

15. Wiggle your fingers and toes, feel the subtle electricity of being alive

16. Carry lightness in your steps, even when your mind feels heavy

17. Offer your energy to someone today with a smile - using your mouth, your eyes, or your heart

18. Let energy drain from the brain down into the rest of the body

19. Shake your hands and feet: release stuck energy and invite in movement

20. Imagine energy flowing out of your fingertips and toes, connecting you to the world around you

Manomaya Kosha - Mental/Emotional Body

21. Notice a thought and let it float by, like a cloud in the sky

22. Say hello to your emotions - they are messengers, not enemies

23. Journal for five minutes - morning pages (always) to the rescue

24. Pause before reacting; there’s magic in the space between (see way above)

25. Name one thing you’re grateful for - and do that again tomorrow (on repeat)

26. Smile at a memory that makes you ache a little - it’s part of your story

27. Ask yourself: What do I really need right now? and then listen

28. Speak kindly to yourself, as you would to your best friend

29. Offer a thought of forgiveness - to yourself, to someone else, to the world

30. Give your worries a name - name it to tame it

Vijnanamaya Kosha – Witness/Intuitive Body

31. Notice the quiet voice inside that watches without judgment

32. Ask your intuition a question - then sit still long enough to hear an answer

33. Pause and notice what feels true in your body before your mind speaks

34. Trust a hunch, even if it makes no logical sense (yet)

35. Offer yourself permission to not have all the answers

36. When faced with choice, notice which option brings ease or lightness

37. Recognize that simply noticing is in fact a form of knowing

38. Notice the thoughts that arise - and the space that holds them (again … above)

39. Follow a quiet curiosity, wherever it leads

40. Set an intention for who … and how … you want to be

Anandamaya Kosha – Bliss Body

41. Notice a smile that bubbles up for no reason at all

42. Savor a bite of chocolate (or pie), a sip of coffee, or a spoonful of ice cream … fully

43. Laugh until your belly aches

44. Watch sunlight spill across a room and let it warm (not only the space, but also) your heart

45. Hold a loved one’s hand (or paw?) and feel the quiet joy in connection

46. Dance around your kitchen or living room like nobody’s watching (cliché … with good reason!)

47. Take a moment to appreciate a song, a poem, or a story that moves you

48. Lie back and notice the sky, the ceiling, the space above you - breathe into awe and wonder

49. Celebrate small (tiny?) victories - they are proof of your alive-ness

50. Let yourself rest fully, knowing that joy is always available in the pause (there’s that space, again)

And, finally … The True Self

51. Remember: at the center of it all is your true Self. Whole. Complete. Beyond the layers, yet present in every one. Your body, energy, mind, witness, and joy - they are all doorways home.

11:47 a.m.
All of me is (still) here: the body, hungry and ready for an unexpected lunch out with the kiddos; the energy, swirling in the chaotic holiday home; the mind, tired from this post and the end of a semester of reading and writing; the witness, giving me space and ease; the bliss at the center of it all; and the SELF at the center of the center.

May you honor your layers today, and may Turkey Day tomorrow remind you of the abundance, connection, and joy already within and around you.

xo,

Ilana

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.

Right now @kripalucenter is running their best deal all year, unlimited access to the Kripalu Online Studio for just $299/year.

🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
We’re now back inside the beautiful library space.
Donation-Based Class Info »

‼️ FEATURED OFFERING:‼️
📖 The Great Work of Your Life: Awaken To Your True Self
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6-8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Awaken to your purpose through yoga, reflection, and the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita in this transformative weekend workshop.
Learn More & Register»


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »


🌊 Meditation in Motion: The Kripalu Approach to Vinyasa
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 20-29, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Deepen your practice, strengthen your teaching, and discover the transformative power of breath and movement in this Kripalu Vinyasa Yoga Teacher Training.
Learn More & Register »

While many folks groan about the darkness, I secretly (well, maybe not so secretly now) love it. It’s like the universe is whispering, “Slow down, put your feet up, and maybe sip something warm.” In a world that seems to constantly shout, “More! Faster! Again!” these little invitations to pause feel like tiny miracles.

If this season is tough for you, I feel you. Remember: this too shall pass. Seek out the small comforts and little shifts that make it easier, and know you’re not alone.

And because I always love a little list, here’s a top seven (my favorite number) of thoughts, observations, and joys keeping me cozy and centered this season - a little seasonal gift you can open with your favorite cup of something warm.

1. Want to be happy? 👯‍♀️

In a world that constantly tells us to do more, have more, and be more, remember this: happiness is simpler than we think.

For whatever reason, lately, I keep coming across this take-away from Harvard’s Grant Study - the longest-running research project on adult development in history: relationships are the strongest predictor of a long, happy life.

According to the Harvard Gazette:

Close relationships, more than money or fame, are what keep people happy throughout their lives, the study revealed. Those ties protect people from life’s discontents, help to delay mental and physical decline, and are better predictors of long and happy lives than social class, IQ, or even genes.

So if you want to be happy, tend to your relationships. Call a friend. Hug a loved one. Check in with someone who matters. Connection isn’t just a nice idea - it’s the secret ingredient to a life that really matters.

2. Showing Up Anyway ✍️

And speaking of tending to what matters - sometimes the first step is just showing up. This Substack kind of messes with me. I love writing to you and sharing what’s on my mind, but the comparison trap (thief of joy, professional joy-snatcher) likes to whisper that if I’m not delivering some profound, perfectly crafted essay that pierces your soul, maybe it’s not worth posting.

But here I am anyway. Showing up. Writing what’s real. Trusting that honest words land where they need to, and that “not perfect” is often the most human and tender thing I can offer.

3. Comparison is the thief of joy (still) 🚫💁‍♀️

Part of showing up is noticing the voices in our heads that try to steal our joy.

In my Diversity and Social Justice class for my MSW last week, we dug into sexism. I watched the film Killing Us Softly 4, which shows how advertising keeps glamorizing a very narrow, and honestly regressive, idea of what it means to be a woman.

Here’s one nugget that really stuck with me: a magazine published a photo of a real woman with a visible belly (no washboard abs), and it got a flood of thank-you emails from readers.

A flood of thank you!s simply for showing reality!

Because here’s the truth: almost every woman you see in ads has been digitally altered: body parts swapped, proportions changed, sometimes the whole image is a Frankenstein version of different people. Most of what we compare ourselves to? Not.Even.Real.

So here’s the takeaway: comparison is still the thief of joy. Comparing yourself to real people is tricky, but comparing yourself to something completely unattainable? Guaranteed joy-snatcher.

Don’t do it.

4. The Sweet Spot 🍦

And then there’s another arena where judgment sneaks in: food.

I was remembering the other day the moment I “learned” (loosely, since it’s not really true) that some foods are considered “bad.” It was during my first few weeks of college, when a new friend, who, as it turns out, had an eating disorder, told me how whole milk had so many more grams of fat and calories than skim milk. I can still remember exactly where I was standing in Danforth Dining Hall at the University of Rochester.

From that point on, I started noticing “good” foods and “bad” foods everywhere -ranking, categorizing, comparing myself to the standards that seemed to exist all around me. (Thank you - or not! - advertising.)

I’m still, and might forever be, unlearning that messaging and re-learning curiosity instead of judgment, nourishment instead of fear. Amazing how learning one little fact: that a glass of whole milk has 8 grams of fat and skim 0, could spark a mindset so persistent it feels herculean to overcome.

And yet, there’s hope - and a gentle reminder from Ayurveda. In that tradition, anything can be medicine or poison, depending on how it’s used and approached. Take ice cream, for example: I love it, truly love it. But when it’s in the house, it becomes a little challenge (already had two bowls today!). By noticing how I eat it, savoring it fully, and keeping balance in mind, it becomes a moment of nourishment rather than guilt.

Food, like life, is not inherently “good” or “bad”; it’s all about context, intention, and care.

5. Ayurveda (and oil) to the rescue 💆🏽‍♀️

And speaking of nourishing practices … and Ayurveda … this brings me to one of my favorite rituals from Ayurveda: abhyanga, or oil massage.

I recently had an Ayurvedic consultation, and it reminded me of how these simple practices consistently circle back to what our bodies and minds actually need. When I teach Ayurveda, I often say: if Ayurveda were stranded on a desert island and could take only one thing, it would take oil. Absolutely makes no sense - and yet, nothing more sensible has ever been said.

Seriously, try it. Massage yourself with warm oil, and watch the magic happen.

6. Ghee to the rescue 🧈

During my consult, I was also encouraged to eat more ghee to help pacify Vata and support vitality. One recommendation I’m especially excited about is the Ojas bomb: a soaked date with a soaked almond inside, topped with a little ghee.

The dates and almonds are soaking as we speak, and I have high hopes for these treats - especially because I’ll be using Farm True’s vanilla maple chai ghee for some, and their classic ghee for the rest. Yum yum yum.

7. The Quince Conundrum 🍐

And finally, the strangest gifts often arrive when we least expect them.

The other day, Kripalu’s dining hall had quinces on the fruit table. Strange, because you don’t eat quince raw. I grabbed one anyway, put it in my room, and was wowed by its scent every time I walked past it. I brought it home to figure out what to do with it: the quince became my weekend challenge.

Then the next morning, I checked my cherished daily Rosemary Wahtola Trommer poem - and the subject line? “The Conundrum of Quince.” The poem’s title? Strange.

Yes, indeed, Rosemerry, yes indeed.

Strange, beautiful, unexpected gifts: a quirky fruit, a bowl of ice cream, a surrender to your body’s softness, sharing your heart with honesty, a sweet bite, a chat with a friend. Whatever form it takes, may you recognize it as treasure to your heart.

xo,
Ilana

LATELY:

FEELING: settled

RECOMMENDED READING: this Substack post (it was one of those “essays” that … sorta kinda … pierced my soul)

MOTHERHOOD: this mama heart is counting down the days until all her kiddos will be home for Turkey Day

MAKING: I’m going to make these leaf flowers …. when my girls are home for Turkey Day

WRITING: paper, papers, and more papers

CURIOUS ABOUT: what kind of badass woman I want to be at 65

READY FOR: the semester to be over!

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.
Try a Free Class »


🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
We’re now back inside the beautiful library space.
Donation-Based Class Info »

‼️ FEATURED OFFERING:‼️
📖 The Great Work of Your Life: Awaken To Your True Self
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6-8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Awaken to your purpose through yoga, reflection, and the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita in this transformative weekend workshop.
Learn More & Register»


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »


🌊 Meditation in Motion: The Kripalu Approach to Vinyasa
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 20-29, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Deepen your practice, strengthen your teaching, and discover the transformative power of breath and movement in this Kripalu Vinyasa Yoga Teacher Training.
Learn More & Register »

Today, much of the world is celebrating Diwali: the festival of lights. 🕯️

Maybe an invitation into light feels especially needed right now? The days are growing shorter here in the Northeast of Turtle Island, and for many, the world itself feels a bit darker, a little heavier.

But Diwali reminds us: even in the deepest dark, light is never gone … it simply waits to be remembered.

This is a time to pause, to breathe, and to reconnect with the steady glow inside.

Even if for just this moment.

Pause.
Breathe.
Feel the light within.

🌟

A few facts 🌸

Diwali is celebrated by millions worldwide, primarily in India. Rooted in Hindu traditions, it honors the triumph of light over darkness, knowledge over ignorance, and good over evil.

Another name for Diwali is Deepavali, meaning “garland of lights”. During this time, homes glow with diyas (clay lamps), candles, and colorful rangolis (beautifully crafted floor designs that welcome prosperity and joy).

The festival spans five days, each with its own rituals and meanings, and begins on a new moon - today, October 20.

A few ways to bring Diwali into your practice ✨

🕯️ Candle Meditation
Light a candle and place it in front of you. As you meditate or move through a meditative movement practice, let it symbolize your inner light.

📓 Journaling
Diwali invites reflection. Set aside time to write about what darkness you’re ready to release. What hopes or dreams flicker like tiny lights within you? This simple act can bring clarity and intention to the days ahead.

💗 Heart-Opening Postures
Diwali is a time of connection and gratitude. Heart-opening poses like camel (ustrasana) and cobra (bhujangasana) invite openness and receptivity - helping you embody your own light.

🌸 Community and Gratitude
Diwali is also about togetherness and generosity. What communities feel meaningful to you? How might you engage in a way that supports both you and those around you?

Diwali reminds us that even, and especially, amid all of life’s fluctuations, there’s a steady source of warmth, joy, and purpose within us. 🕯️

There is always clarity, peace, and a radiant path forward - sometimes we just forget.
(And maybe, just maybe, we forget for the sweetness of remembering. 🍭)

A poem to remember your inner light:

💫 How are you honoring your own light today? 💫

Hit reply or leave a comment … I’d love to hear how you’re finding your glow this season.

xo,
Ilana

LATELY:

FEELING: truth be told, a little overwhelmed. Reminding myself “this too shall pass”

RECOMMENDED READING: Being Mortal by Atul Gawande - in case you missed this when it came out over a decade ago, or need a refresher

MOTHERHOOD: dare I jinx myself and say it’s (gasp) easeful? (turns out parenting a 16, 20 and 22 year old is … currently, at least … a really fun and rewarding venture)

MAKING: time and space for ease, rest, and nourishment

WRITING: (stilllllll) lots and lots of papers for grad school

CURIOUS ABOUT: how peace becomes a possibility … and then a reality (watch THIS, if you’d like)

READY FOR: (stilllllll) peace

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.
Try a Free Class »


🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
We’re now back inside the beautiful library space.
Donation-Based Class Info »


📖 The Great Work of Your Life: Awaken To Your True Self
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6-8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Awaken to your purpose through yoga, reflection, and the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita in this transformative weekend workshop.
Learn More & Register»


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »


🌊 Meditation in Motion: The Kripalu Approach to Vinyasa
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 20-29, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Deepen your practice, strengthen your teaching, and discover the transformative power of breath and movement in this Kripalu Vinyasa Yoga Teacher Training.
Learn More & Register »

Maybe it feels different where you are, but from my view things just keep getting more heated, more contentious…more swirly. Sigh.

Enter Ayurveda - our gentle reminder that opposites bring balance, and that often, less is more.

When life feels swirly, what we need is grounding.

Perfect timing, really, as the natural world is shifting too. Here in the Northeast, today marks the arrival of fall. In Ayurveda, fall ushers in Vata season - a time that is light, cold, and always on the move. To balance it, we bring in heaviness, warmth, and stability.

So, what does that look like in daily life?

• Cozying up on the couch with a blanket and a mug of tea 🛋️🫖

• Sticking (as best you can) to a steady routine 📆

• Eating (literally) grounding foods like root vegetables 🥕🍠

• Making stews and soups 🍜

• Enjoying all the apples (even better cooked until warm and soft) 🍎🍏

• Pulling out scarves to keep your neck warm 🧣

• Moving through dasha chalana - gentle, flowing movements that help release tension, ground your energy, and balance Vata for a calmer mind and body

• Trying Abhyanga (Ayurvedic self-massage) - even just your feet or ears makes a difference 💆🏽‍♀️🦶🏼👂🏼

• Or savoring an Ayurvedic pumpkin spice latte if you aren’t already over pumpkin spice everything 🎃🎃

Continuing the theme of my last few posts … as of this week, I’m not (really) drinking coffee anymore. So maybe instead of “if we were sitting down for coffee,” it’s “if we were sitting down for a pumpkin spice latte.” Or, really, whatever your drink of choice happens to be. 🙂

And with that, here are a few random things on my mind and heart these days…

1. I really can’t stand house flies. One just buzzed by me and it is maddening. A few weeks ago I swatted one against the kitchen window and in the process knocked down a stained-glass piece I made. It’s still intact, but cracked. I knew that might happen when I went after the fly…and I didn’t care. That’s how much they bother me. It isn’t lost on me that while I’m firmly against animal cruelty and violence, I’m the first to maniacally go after flies and mosquitoes indoors.

2. This summer, Whole Foods had a 50% off sale on all frozen treats. With the extra Prime discount, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s came to about $2.50. If they still made a profit at that price, why-oh-why is a pint almost $10 in some places?

3. I made homemade pita chips for the first time this wekeend and highly recommend. Easy and delicious.

4. One of my “things” is reducing kitchen waste - paper towels, plastic wrap, foil. And yet…it still feels like a herculean effort to actually grab a rag from the rag bag or use the reusable wax bowl covers instead of plastic wrap. I try to go easy on myself, remembering the yoga teaching of purnatva: I’m doing the best I can and there’s always another perfection to evolve into.

5. When I “should” myself into making these posts more consistent (say, every Sunday), I remember the power of intermittent reinforcement. You never know when you’ll get a post from me - or what it’ll say. Will it be interesting, exciting, illuminating? Or boring and useless? You’ll just have to read and find out. 😉

6. The chickens we got in the spring are now laying eggs. They’ve just started producing full-sized ones (instead of minis), and it’s incredibly satisfying to eat eggs from my own backyard.

   

7. I went today to a talk on Artificial Intelligence that left me with so many thoughts and questions. I’m curious about AI for myself and also for my kids, who are, or soon will be, entering a workforce changing dramatically right before our eyes. I’ll keep learning and watching as this experiment in human–machine interplay unfolds.

8. I’m still enjoying these “coffee date” style lists of random thoughts, and also wonder how much longer my posts will take this format. Time will tell.

9. Oh - and I’m three weeks into grad school. So far, so good. I turned in my first paper yesterday. The best part has been finding a sweet spot of caring about the learning, yet not caring (too much) about the grades.

That’s what I’ve been stewing on lately - both in the kitchen and in life. Ayurveda reminds us that when things feel swirly, grounding makes all the difference. Here’s to less swirl, more stew. 🍲 What about you - what’s keeping you steady this season?

xo,
Ilana

p.s. and just as a reminder, even as summer petals give way to autumn’s abundance:

LATELY:

FEELING: excited about learning (did I mention I’m in grad school?)

RECOMMENDED READING: well, I can tell you what not to read …. my textbooks! In my other studies, though, I would recommend this book: Dharma Then Moksha: The Untold Story of Swami Kripalu

MOTHERHOOD: I wish you could hear the big sigh I just let out. Per usual - all the things. Beautiful, amazing, heart-shattering, heart-expanding. Natural, foreign. A gift.

MAKING: Not as many fall baked goods as I’d like (did I mention I’m in grad school?). I have managed one apple crisp so far this season.

WRITING: Did I mention I’m in grad school? Lots of online discussion posts, papers, and reading notes..

CURIOUS ABOUT: At this moment, I’m curious about how rapidly AI is reshaping our society - and whether its impact will feel more like disruption and disconnection, or like an opportunity to repair and reimagine how we live and work.

READY FOR: Sweater weather! Oh, how I love fall. 🍂

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.
Try a Free Class »


🌳 Yoga: Meditaton in Motion
Everyday Wellbeing
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, Amherst, MA
We will be back inside the library starting October 1!
Donation-Based Class Info »



🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
October 14–17, 2025 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »

📖 The Great Work of Your Life: Awaken To Your True Self
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6-8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Learn More & Register

🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 10-13, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »

I’ve been wanting to write another post like that one for a while, but life had other plans. From the end of June until just a few weeks ago, I was in constant motion: first vacation, then coordinating the 200-hour yoga teacher training at Kripalu for a month (think looooong, busy, full, FUN days), and then the inevitable aftermath of such intensity - long, spacious, deliciously lazy “do-nothing” days.

And now, summer is officially over. My youngest child (the only one still at home) started 11th grade today, my husband is back at school (he teaches high school), and the tides are shifting toward the new routines and rhythms that late August always brings.

This morning was my first truly “free” one - just me in the house (ahhhh, the sweet sound of silence). It included some knitting, a walk with a friend, and, most importantly, a little space to realize: now is the time to write to you again.

To share a few things I might say if we were gifted the chance to be together - in conversation, in connection, in community.

☕️ Here goes :)

1. I love technology (I really do love my iPhone) … and … spending an entire month at Kripalu gave me so much time and space to be in conversation, connection, and community without screens in the mix. It was delightful. One of my favorite parts? No phones in the dining room or any public spaces.
   
   Here’s a reminder - to me as much as to you: put the phone away sometimes. Especially at meals. Especially when you’re with others. Presence tastes (and digests) better than any scroll.

2. My sisters-in-law have a morning ritual they’ve been practicing for years. I’ve adopted it on and off, and am (re)committing to bringing it back. We started out calling it “best and gratitude,” but this summer we gave it a new name: BAGS - Best And GratitudeS.
   
   The practice is simple: over morning coffee (or tea), each person shares the best moment from the day before and something they’re grateful for. Try it - it’s simple yet powerful, and can shift the lens on your whole day.
   
   What would be in your BAGS today?

3. This summer, when I was at Kripalu, as I said, my days were looooong, busy, full, and FUN … there were lots of great moments. And … I found that day after day, my best moment was night time: taking a shower, getting into bed, knitting, and watching a show.
   
   And one day, my gratitude was for Netflix and Hulu and HBO.
   
   This is coming from someone who hadn’t watched any TV, at all, for years. And from someone (the same person … me) who, in the past few months, watched all 106 episodes of “This Is Us” (many of them while on the stairmaster or elliptical or recumbent bike at the gym).
   
   My takeaways:

   ✨ rest and recovery are vital - and there are many forms they can take

   ✨ I will continue to change and transform and surprise myself with who I am becoming (and unbecoming)

   ✨I much prefer the new (to me, at least) tv series format of 8ish episodes, total - it’s the Goldilocks amount for a series, for me

4. I love my friends. One of them recently posted this on her IG story, and it was an immediate “hell yes!” for me.

   

   I sure hope you know deep, abiding friendships / love.

5. She also posted this:

   

   Another immediate “hell yes!”.
   
   I know I said that the aftermath of my summer at Kripalu was long, spacious, deliciously lazy “do-nothing” days … but in truth, many of those days were about purging, deep cleaning, painting, and reinvigorating my home.
   
   I didn’t burn things, but I did donate a lot.
   
   And it made room. My home feels lighter. I feel lighter. Maybe get rid of something today?

6. I’ve got a Post-it note with a running list of things to write about in this post. Random thoughts have been coming to me over the past few weeks, and if I don’t jot them down, they disappear.
   
   But get this: the other day I thought of something I wanted to add to the Post-it.
   
   And in the three steps it took me to walk from one side of the counter to the other … I forgot what it was.

   Oh, the joys of the menopausal brain.
   
   Anyone else living in the land of Post-its and forgotten brilliance? At least we’re in it together.

7. Today, in the time since I started writing this post and the time I got here, to #7, I learned that there was (yet another) school shooting. My oldest daughter told me that she is scared that her father works in a school and that life feels dystopian. I don’t have any words of wisdom or comfort or solace for her. It’s just awful.
   
   I found this graphic, and it makes me think twice about the German/EU passport I have sitting in my safe.

   

8. After this, the things on my list just don’t feel relevant or interesting or needed any more. I think I’ll save them for next time.

Assuming you’ve also seen the news of today, I hope that this smattering of randomness in your inbox is … connecting, grounding, soothing, nurturing, supportive, comforting and uplifting in some way.

As always, if any of this sparked something for you, I’d love to hear - hit reply and say hi.

May the heaviness of the world feel perhaps a tad bit lighter.

xo,
Ilana

LATELY:

FEELING: perhaps foolishly at ease and prepared for the fall schedule🤪

RECOMMENDED READING: (can I change this to watching? 📺 )The Billy Joel documentary And So It Goes … so good! 🎹

MOTHERHOOD: a lot easier with 2 kids out of the house and all 3 driving 🚗

MAKING: the best coffee ever by adding farmtue vanilla maple chai ghee to it … OMG it’s delicious 🍁

WRITING: my appointments and to-do list in my new planner … I’m returning back to my roots of paper planners (in addition to my iCal … remember, I love technology! and ….) 🗓️

CURIOUS ABOUT: how … and if ... and why not already? we will get this gun situation in control in the USA 😞

READY FOR: peace ☮️

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.
Try a Free Class »


🌳 All-Levels Yoga
Yoga Outside
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Andrew’s Greenhouse, Amherst, MA
Breathe, move, and ground in nature.
Donation-Based Outdoor Class Info »


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
October 14–17, 2025 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »

📖 The Great Work of Your Life
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
March 6 - 8, 2026 | Stockbridge, MA
Save the Date! Details/Registration coming soon

Truth be told, more times a day than I’d like to admit, I open my inbox and, almost without thinking, run through the ever-growing list and tap: delete, delete, delete, delete.

Every now and then, something's worth keeping - or at least needs to be. A work email that needs a response. A confirmation for an online order. A check-in from a friend I haven’t seen in a while. An invitation I need to RSVP to.

Or an email from someone who actually has something to say - something I want to take time to read.

I hope this email falls into that last category for you.

And hey, you’ve made it this far! That alone feels like a small miracle, and I’m genuinely honored. Because if you’re anything like me, time is precious, email eats up way too much of it, and gosh darn it, if I’m going to open something and actually read it, it better be worth it.

So - about that email I actually opened. The subject line was the same as this one: “If we were sitting having a coffee…”
And the preview line read: “Here is what I might say.”

That subject line stayed with me. In my frenzy of deleting emails and making both literal and energetic space, this one invited me in.

In this digital and disconnected landscape, there was something so human about it - an invitation into something slower, softer, more real.

It made me wonder: If we were sitting together, sipping coffee - no rush, no agenda - what might I share?

Probably nothing earth-shattering. Just a few things from the heart.
Here’s what I might say…

1. I started drinking coffee again a few months ago - after more than three years without it.

   It happened in Guatemala. For twelve days, I walked past beautiful cafés, and each morning at the retreat center, I breathed in the earthy, warm, inviting aromas. On the final day, I decided to say yes to a cup.

   And the rest is history.

2. I taught a yoga class the other day where I’m pretty sure I led a whole sequence on the right side twice … and never did the left.

   Oopsie doopsie. But the mantra “presence over perfection” has been looping in my head ever since.

3. I have a post-it on my desk that reads, “presence over perfection.” It’s been there for seven years or more now, and I have a feeling it’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

4. In any given moment, I’m not sure whether to feel joy and exuberance - because the world is amazing! - or sadness and fear - because it’s also a total sh*t show.

   The truth is: both are true.

5. I’m knitting a sweater and recently learned the Italian bind-off. At first, I was all thumbs, watching a YouTube video on 0.5 speed (I’m usually a 2.0x gal). Fumbling, twisting the yarn, losing my place in the sequence, trying to backtrack to a place that made sense … all while wondering if I’d just made a mess I couldn’t fix. (Is there such a thing?)

   By the hundredth stitch or so (halfway there), I found a rhythm:
   knit off, purl on, purl off, knit on … knit off, purl on, purl off, knit on …

   Somewhere in the repetition, the mess began to make sense. Knitting is a constant teacher for me: presence over perfection.

6. The person who sent that email I actually read?
   Ultimately, they were selling something.

   But me? I’m not selling you anything.

7. I love playing games. Do you?
   Current favorites: cards (Euchre, Spades, Pitch - in person or on an app), Mahjong (even if it sometimes breaks my brain), Monikers (super fun!), Sushi Go (a family classic).

   Let’s play sometime?

8. I’ve been running again.
   Hip replacements are magic.
   Modern medicine is magic.

9. My youngest kid is about to get his driver’s license - in just over a month. Whaaaaaat?

10. That person’s email? Very pretty.
    Colors, borders, fonts - beautiful.

    I really value beauty. Do you?

11. She uses Flodesk. A million years ago (okay, maybe six), I almost signed up when they were launching and running a $19/month-for-life promotion. But I didn’t.

    Sigh. Regret.

    I came across a quote recently: “Regret is an opportunity to learn, not a life sentence.”
    I’m not sure if it’s from a real person or AI. The world is wacky these days.

    When I go looking for inspiration, I always try to find quotes by women. That’s my first filter. This one didn’t pass the test, but the sentiment stuck.

    And … presence over perfection.
    My emails (this Substack) might not be beautiful, but they’re here.

12. Water, water, water. Drink more water.

    Protein, protein, protein. Eat more protein.

    Weights, weights, weights. Lift more weights.
    Berries, walnuts, fish oil. Eat more omega-3s.

    Midlife is wild.

13. Speaking of midlife: I’m doing what feels like the most midlife thing imaginable. I’m the President of the Board of a nonprofit.

    Is there anything more midlife than that?

14. Speaking of midlife (or maybe just life): I recently found out that someone I knew from yoga teacher training passed away - suddenly and tragically. She was young, beautiful, vibrant. She had two young children. And now she’s gone.

    Oh, the fragility of it all.

15. If I could magically acquire one skill, it would be to sing.
    Like, really sing.
    The kind of singing that stops people in their tracks.
    That stirs something inside.

16. I’ve been asked a bunch of times lately when and where my next retreat will be. The truth is, I don’t have anything planned right now - which feels both good and a little unsettling, spacious yet ungrounded.

    Honestly, I’m not sure that now is the right time to lead a group internationally. Maybe something local?

    I’d love to hear what you think.

Well, that was a hodgepodge.
Thanks for sitting with me.
Thanks for reading.
If any of this sparked something for you, I’d love to hear - hit reply and say hi.

And if nothing else, maybe it’s helpful for you to remember presence over perfection?

xo,
Ilana

P.S. Oh, and this person ends her emails with a “Lately” section … yes, color-coded and beautiful. Here’s my stab at it, stripped down to the essence:

FEELING: excited for some new adventures coming up (learning adventures, not traveling adventures)
RECOMMENDED READING: This post that I’ve been bugging my kids to read (or listen to - there’s an audio version).
MOTHERHOOD: I just noticed a big exhale as I prepared to type this. Beautiful. Heartwarming. Impossible. Terrifying.
MAKING: a sweater! (It doesn’t have sleeves yet … but it does have an Italian bind-off on the bottom edge).

WRITING: this Substack, that’s about it these days.
CURIOUS ABOUT: How (and if) the world is going to be put back together. Sigh.
READY FOR: leaders who actually lead in a way that I believe in and admire.

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online (on break … will be back 8/18)
Start your week with presence and ease.
Try a Free Class »


🌳 All-Levels Yoga
Yoga Outside
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Andrew’s Greenhouse, Amherst, MA
Breathe, move, and ground in nature.
Donation-Based Outdoor Class Info »


🔑 Meditation Essentials
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health - Online Program
Tuesdays in August | Online
A 4-week journey into foundational meditation practices for everyday clarity and calm.
Details & Registration »


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
October 14–17, 2025 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »

Some of you have been with me since those early days. Many of you are newer. Either way, here’s a little origin story. Just a glimpse, for now.

It was a low moment. A desperate day. A bleak stretch.
On a whim (or more likely, a whisper from something deeper) I dug a tripod out of the basement, set it up in my living room, hit record on my phone, and taught a yoga class.

The thing is … I wasn’t even a yoga teacher yet.

While I “should” have been cooking dinner after a long day of work, I created a YouTube channel, uploaded the video, and, while my kids ate breakfast the next morning, I shared it on Facebook.

It was thrilling.
Terrifying.
Mortifying.

And also … life-changing.

That one shaky, unqualified offering cracked something open. And it ultimately led me here.

One day I’ll share the full story.

But today, I’m sharing another video.

If you’ve taken a Gentle Yoga class with me at Kripalu, you’ve likely practiced Dasha Chalana — Sanskrit for “the ten churnings.” It’s a sequence of joint rotations I first learned in Ayurveda school, and it’s become a foundational part of how I care for this body.

Students often ask if I have a video of it online.
Until now, I didn’t.

But I finally made one.

✨ [LINK] Watch this 10-minute practice to awaken and nourish your whole body.

Maybe someday I’ll revive that original YouTube channel, or create a more “official” one. But for now, I hope this little offering helps you feel more alive and at home in your body.

May this simple practice of joint rotations bring ease, presence, and momentum … one small step at a time.
Just like my first video, it’s a humble offering.
And sometimes, humble beginnings lead to the most meaningful journeys.

xo,
Ilana

P.S. I’d love to hear how this 10-minute Dasha Chalana practice lands for you. Feel free to reply or drop a comment and share your experience.

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga
Kripalu Online Studio
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation · 7–8 am yoga | Online
Start your week with presence and ease.
Try a Free Class »


🌳 All-Levels Yoga
Yoga Outside
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Andrew’s Greenhouse, Amherst, MA
Breathe, move, and ground in nature.
Donation-Based Outdoor Class Info »


💪🏾 Anatomy of Vinyasa Workshop
Beacon Hill Yoga
Sunday, June 29 | 11:30 am–1:00 pm | Boston, MA
Explore strength and alignment as you gain tools to flow safely and with confidence.
Learn More & Register »


🎓 200-Hour Yoga Teacher Training
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
July 13–August 8 | Stockbridge, MA
I’ll be serving as Program Coordinator for this transformative month-long immersion into the art and heart of yoga.
Details & Registration »


🔑 Meditation Essentials
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health - Online Program
Tuesdays in August | Online
A 4-week journey into foundational meditation practices for everyday clarity and calm.
Details & Registration COMING SOON! »


🌅 RISE: Resilience Tools for Work-Life Balance
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health
October 14–17, 2025 | Stockbridge, MA
Recharge your energy, renew your focus, and gain science-backed tools to navigate stress with resilience and clarity.
Learn More & Register »

Life has been life-ing.

I’ve thought countless times about what I want to say and share. I’ve even started a handful of posts - now sitting in my drafts folder or as half-baked (digital) scribbles in my Notes app. Some of those will (eventually!) make it to your inbox.

But today, I’m simply sharing a handful of random ideas, updates, and offerings - in the hopes that something (or a few things!) may feel interesting, inspiring, entertaining … or all of the above.

“It is okay to try a new thing and then say: actually, that did not work either.”
- Glennon Doyle

A very popular author and podcaster I enjoy recently moved her newsletter to Substack, launched a paid option (and likely made tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars immediately), and then, just one week later, changed her mind. She shut it down, refunded everyone, and went back to a simple email newsletter.

Reminder: you can always change your mind.

My firstborn graduated college last week! 🥹

I told her how, five years ago, I posted in the Grown & Flown Facebook group (my favorite FB group ever - seriously, if you ever need advice on anything, go there!) worried she wasn’t ready.

Well … she was ready. More than ready.

She found her way (and herself), learned tons about life (and her field), graduated cum laude, and earned the Senior Thesis and Capstone Award for the entire School of Visual and Performing Arts.

Ambassador “Sully” Sullenberger (of the Miracle on the Hudson) gave the commencement address. Sure, it was full of clichés … but they’re cliché for a reason: they’re timeless truths.

Some highlights:

• Be prepared—for inevitable change, and especially in this time of climate change and “failures of leadership”.

• He spoke about making “small, regular deposits” in a bank of training, knowledge, and experience - so that on January 15, 2009, the balance was large enough for a sudden and significant withdrawal.

• “The surest way to fail is not to try. So don’t be afraid to try.”

• At the end of our lives, we probably won’t be counting money or cataloging accomplishments or things. We’ll ask: Did I make a difference? Did my life matter? Did I leave the world better than I found it?

• “The arc of the moral universe bends toward justice … only when we make it … justice is not inevitable”

• “When right confronts wrong, right must be strong.”

In April, I returned to São Miguel Island in the Azores for my second retreat there - and my fourth international retreat in the past 18 months. It was FABULOUS.

I love leading retreats - bringing folks together in practice, community, and adventure.

“They” say yoga is the practice of becoming comfortable with the uncomfortable. Travel can be exciting and invigorating - but it can also be unsettling and, yes, uncomfortable.

If you’re feeling called to explore - near or far, solo or in community - do it.

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor’s book.”
- Irish Proverb

Last week (and next week, too!), I led a workshop on Ayurvedic Ritual for Sleep at Kripalu. It’s one of my favorite offerings … and sleep is one of my favorite things to do. 😴

One of Ayurveda’s foundational texts, the Charaka Samhita, says this:

निद्रायत्तं सुखं दुःखं पुष्टिः कार्श्यं बलाबलम्| वृषता क्लीबता ज्ञानमज्ञानं जीवितं न च||३६||

अकालेऽतिप्रसङ्गाच्च न च निद्रा निषेविता| सुखायुषी पराकुर्यात् कालरात्रिरिवापरा||३७||

सैव युक्ता पुनर्युङ्क्ते निद्रा देहं सुखायुषा| पुरुषं योगिनं सिद्ध्या सत्या बुद्धिरिवागता||३८||

Happiness and misery, nourishment and emaciation, strength and weakness, fertility and infertility, knowledge and ignorance, longevity and death - all depend on proper sleep.

Untimely, excessive, or insufficient sleep takes away both happiness and longevity. Proper sleep restores them - just as real knowledge brings power to the yogi.
(Charaka Samhita 36–38)

So yes, according to Ayurveda, everything - happiness, nourishment, strength, fertility, knowledge, longevity - depends on sleep.

I hope you’re resting well.

The nonprofit I co-founded, Everyday Wellbeing, is in the midst of our first annual fund drive.

Three of us have spent the last year volunteering hours and hours every week to bring this mission to life. Now we’re ready to hire an Executive Director to help us grow and serve more people.

We dream of:

• A dedicated space

• Expanded access for underserved communities

• Programming in local schools

But to make any of that real, we need your support. 💸

Please consider giving: every bit helps. No amount is too small.
www.everydaywellbeing.org

I’ve been listening to The Telepathy Tapes, and I’m torn between two conclusions:
(a) everything I thought I knew about consciousness is wrong,
or
(b) all of these people are lying.

Since I can’t figure out why they’d lie, I’m leaning toward (a).

It’s fascinating - and I highly recommend.

Coming up soon: another RISE program through Kripalu!

RISE™ offers evidence-based tools for stress resilience rooted in mindfulness, yoga, and positive psychology. It’s both practical and powerful.

Through information and practice (meditation, breathwork, and movement) you’ll learn how to:

• Build calm, clarity, and focus

• Improve stress resilience

• Design your own plan for sustained wellbeing

Join us?

Also! My dear friend and retreat co-leader recently bought a company with her husband - and if you haven’t already, you need to check it out.

Farmtrue is a modern, Ayurveda-inspired lifestyle brand offering ghee, teas, body and face care, and more.

My personal faves:

• Clarity Nasya Oil

• Ayurvedic Rosehip Seed Face Serum

• Fix Stick (an all-time favorite)

• And of course … the ghee!

Support small, heart-centered, independent businesses. This is the kind of economy I want to see more of.

Whew! That was a lot.

I hope you found something here that moved or inspired you.
It’s, as always, a pleasure to write to you … why did I wait so long?

xo,
Ilana

P.S. Donate to Everyday Wellbeing!
P.P.S. Join the next RISE program!
P.P.P.S. Treat yourself to something nourishing from Farmtrue!

Upcoming Offerings

🧘‍♀️ Meditation & Gentle Yoga (Kripalu Online Studio)
Mondays | 6:30–6:55 am meditation, 7–8 am yoga | Online
Free trial available!

🔥 Warm Flow (Resonance Hot Yoga, Amherst)
Tuesdays | 12–1 pm

🌞 All-Levels Yoga (Everyday Wellbeing)
Saturdays | 8–9 am | Munson Library, South Amherst
Donation-based classes offered daily at 8 am, plus Tai Chi, Qi Gong, dances, and special events. All are welcome!

🎉 Everyday Wellbeing Potluck
Friday, June 6, 2025 | 6–7:30 pm | Munson Library
A celebration to kick off our 10th summer outside at Andrews Greenhouse!

🌀 RISE: The Kripalu Approach to Resilience
Saturday & Sunday, June 7–8 | 9:30–12 & 1:30–4 | Online
More info HERE

It’s been a minute since I’ve written here on the ’Stack.
(Is that a nickname for Substack? Well, it is now.)

Lately, I’ve felt the desire to post welling up — and I’ve been sitting with that feeling, turning it over, listening in.

I want to write to you from a place of inspiration and authenticity, not a tug of obligation or should.

Last week I had the great fortune to attend former President Barack Obama’s conversation at Hamilton College, where my daughter is a first-year student.

It felt like a breath of fresh air, after the rigmarole of the past few months.

You may have seen some of the clips that are floating through the internet, like this one, which already has more than 2 million views.

Or this one, which is less flashy (though still at 1 million views) and speaks to something deeper: the shared responsibility we all carry in shaping the future of this country.

But what’s most alive for me, right now, is Obama’s message about the power of communication.

Maybe that’s no surprise — I’ve spent much of my life thinking about how we speak and listen. I have a Master’s in Communication Disorders and a background as a speech pathologist, after all.

Here are a few of the takeaways that stuck with me:

• Practice matters. Speaking, writing, sharing ideas — you get better with practice.

• Listening is essential. Good communicators don’t just speak well; they listen deeply. It’s how we understand others’ values and priorities, and how we reach people who may not agree with us.

• See the whole person. Obama reminded us that people are more than their loudest opinions.
  You might have an uncle who says some wacky things at Thanksgiving — but he’s also the guy who taught you how to skate, who helps neighbors in a snowstorm, who always shows up when someone needs a hand. That’s him, too.
  Communication isn’t just about words — it’s about recognizing the full humanity of the person you’re speaking with.

• Conviction is key. If you believe what you’re saying, others will too. That’s what makes communication feel (and be) authentic.

So here I am — writing because I have something to say, something I believe in, and a moment that feels worth sharing.

If you're curious, here’s the full transcript of the conversation. He was scheduled for an hour, but went nearly ninety minutes. As he said, “I know we’re going over time, but like I said, I haven’t spoken to people in a while now.”

I’ll leave you with his closing words — they’re the kind that echo:

That kind of resilience, I think, is, more than anything, what’s needed.

Understanding that if you work hard, you’re still going to fail sometimes.

If you do the right thing, it’s not always going to be rewarded.

You’re going to be disappointed.

People are imperfect, but it’s worth trying.

And if you try, not only do you usually end up getting better outcomes,
but you’re going to live a better life.

You’re going to feel better about yourself,
and you’re going to find fellow travelers who share those values —
and that’s as important as any of it.

Yeah, don’t get discouraged.

I know it’s a little crazy right now, but we’re going to be okay.

We are going to be okay.

We are going to be okay.

We are going to be okay.

Maybe if we keep saying it, we will believe it - and have conviction to communicate to others in a way that will make it come true.

Thanks for being here, for listening.

xo,
Ilana

P.S. If something in this message sparked something in you — a thought, a memory, a question — I’d love to hear it. Hit reply. Let’s keep the conversation going - I’m hear to listen :)

Regular Schedule:

Meditation and Gentle Yoga: Kripalu Online Studio

Free trial available

Mondays

6:30-6:55 am meditation, 7-8 am yoga

online

Warm Flow: Resonance Hot Yoga and Massage

Tuesdays

12 - 1 pm

Resonance Hot Yoga and Massage, Amherst, MA

All-Levels Yoga: Everyday Wellbeing

Saturdays

8 - 9 am

Munson Library, South Amherst, MA

We offer donation-based yoga classes EVERY DAY at 8 am, as well as Tai Chi, Qi Gong, and special events and workshops.

All are welcome to our open, vibrant community.

The days grow longer (remember to change your clocks this weekend!), the sun feels warmer on my skin (even if it’s 9 degrees outside as I type this), and the world around me starts to wake up (I have daffodils in my line of sight—even if they didn’t come from the ground here in New England).

And yet, this shift is not an easy one for me.

Most of the people around me seem to spring (pun intended) easily, readily, and happily back to life as the season changes.

Me? I resist. Not actively or on purpose. It just seems to happen—every year, without fail.

Winter, with its heaviness and pull toward stillness, offers a kind of quiet I cherish—a permission to slow down, rest deeply, and turn inward. But spring asks something different. It invites us to emerge, to lighten, to begin again. And sometimes, beginning again is the hardest part.

This year, though, I’ve set an intention to experiment with gifting myself a more easeful transition.

One of my favorite inquiries is: Where am I fighting reality? How can I flow more with reality?

The reality is, I don’t like the shift to spring. And yet, I want to. I want it to be more easeful.

So, what can I do?

Catherine, a participant in a Kripalu R&R workshop I recently led, offered this version of the Serenity Prayer, and I share it with you now:

Grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change,
The courage to change the one I can,
And the wisdom to know that that one is me.

{Isn’t that a gem? That’s the beauty of being in a community of practice: the wisdom that gets shared is amazing.}

So, the onus is on me with this one.

In the micro: the seasons are changing - I can’t change that.
In the macro: the world is changing - I can’t change that. {Or can I?}

How can I flow more with what is?

And where do I have agency and power to influence what is?

From a place of internal awareness, growth, and transformation … how, where, and in what ways can I actively engage with the external world around me—one so deeply in need of [fill in the blank—there’s no right or wrong answer, only the undeniable need for the unique medicine you have to offer]?

Ayurveda and the Seasonal Shift

According to Ayurveda, the transition from winter to spring is a shift that invites us to embrace lightness - in body, energy, and spirit. It’s a time to clear out the stagnation of winter and invite in renewal. I’m feeling this in my body and my habits as I consciously choose lighter foods, and movement practices that help shake off the sluggishness.

I’ve started to eat salads, something I don’t do in winter.

I’ve started to run a mile or two, something I haven't done for years - but my new hip is happy to experiment with.

I’ve been making chocolate layered ojas bars which are delicious and rejuvenating any time of year!

I will be making spring kitchari, a staple in Ayurvedic practice for resetting the digestive system.

And I am in the midst of preparing a batch of notella hazelnut spread, a delicious spring treat with almonds, hazelnuts, cacao powder, and coconut sugar from Kate O’Donnell’s Everyday Ayurveda Cookbook. Let this be your inspiration to make this, if you have the cookbook … or message me for the recipe!

A Poem for the Season

I shared this poem in class today … perhaps it will support you in this season of shift (and maybe season of disillusionment):

Seasonal Offerings

As we step into this season of renewal, I’d love to share space - and wisdom - with you.

I have some upcoming workshops, including a few locally, and a few at Kripalu.

• March 21: Spring Equinox: Reiki Infused Restorative Yoga at Serenity Yoga South Hadley, MA

• March 22: Ayurveda and Yoga For the Season: Spring Renewal at Everyday Wellbeing, Amherst, MA

• March 28-30: The Great Work of Your Life at Kripalu Center, Stockbridge, MA

• April 4-13: Leading Kripalu Vinyasa YTT at Kripalu Center, Stockbridge, MA

• April 8-11: RISE - The Kripalu Approach to Resilience at Kripalu Center, Stockbridge, MA

It would be sweet to be with you, IRL!

Wishing you well in this wild, wacky time.

xo,

Ilana

P.S. How are you feeling this seasonal transition? Does spring bring energy or resistance (or both?) for you?

Regular Schedule:

Meditation and Gentle Yoga: Kripalu Online Studio

Free trial available

Mondays

6:30-6:55 am meditation, 7-8 am yoga

online

Warm Flow: Resonance Hot Yoga and Massage

Tuesdays

12 - 1 pm

Resonance Hot Yoga and Massage, Amherst, MA

All-Levels Yoga: Everyday Wellbeing

Saturdays

8 - 9 am

Munson Library, South Amherst, MA

We offer donation-based yoga classes EVERY DAY at 8 am, as well as Tai Chi, Qi Gong, and special events and workshops.

All are welcome to our open, vibrant community.