In case it isn't hitting your algorithm: there is (gestures widely) a LOT happening in the world right now. Multiple genocides, escalating civil tensions in the US, sentient AI, and allll the climate change things to name a few. Listen, I get it - turning away can feel like the only logical way to survive it. My nervous system is fried too, y’all.  

I’m increasingly unsettled by the lack of online engagement lately, given the dumpster fire our planet is becoming.

I’m 36 minutes into an Instagram scrolling session I didn’t plan for, shouting into a digital abyss at a tiny network of people that aren’t really the problem.

Privilege is a word I can say in a room full of white people and make at least a friendly enemy.

Tell me I’m wrong.

In a previous life, before the rigors of toddler rearing and the grind of a 9 - 5, I wrote books.

I went to and participated in a lot of gatherings focused on books. Stuffy ones in famous writer’s living rooms. Formal ones in classrooms hovered around a projector and a laser pointer, dissecting quotes and writer’s intentions. The crowds were usually pretty white, of a certain socio-economic bracket, and (just my humble opinion), the conversations were usually centered around the least interesting questions.

In her absolutely incredible book, The Art of Gathering, Priya Parker probes into why we might have this instinct to avoid talking about politics: or as she puts it, “the dangerously interesting.”

Photo credit: Chris Tellez.

Whether you’re a seasoned practitioner or yoga has just recently changed your life: you may have the same question: What is yoga, anyway?

I’ve got an hour before I pick my son up from daycare. Though I’ve done the things to “protect my time,” I’ve got to-do list tickering in the background – text the dog walker, pick up diaper cream, get gas – alongside an ever-running tally of our finances, chores I need to get to, and a mental dialogue about world events that just. doesn't. quit.