Sananda Yoga

The shortest day. The longest night. The yin-est time of the year.
I’m grateful for the beautiful Nest & Nourish gathering yesterday and the opportunity to pause together in a season that so often asks us to do the opposite.

Winter invites us into qualities that have little space in our modern lives: stillness, darkness, emptiness, rest, not knowing—and trusting anyway.

In Traditional Chinese Medicine, winter is associated with the element of water. Water doesn’t force. It adapts. It yields. Yet over time it shapes landscapes, carves canyons and always finds its way to the sea.

A gentle reminder that not everything needs to happen now. Life unfolds in its own time.

May this season offer moments to soften, rest and return to what nourishes you.

❄️

Are you ready for your winter cocoon?
❄️🧡❄️
Link in bio.

Pause long enough to ask: am I forcing it or avoiding it?

I feel uneasy with the certainty some people speak with in the wellness world.
“You got cancer because of suppressed emotions.”
“Your illness is the result of unresolved trauma.”

There is a difference between empowering people and making them responsible for their suffering.

Life is complex. Some things may simply be beyond our control or understanding.

Words matter.

May we speak with more humility, care and compassion.

The more I know the more I realise how much I don’t know.
Me paraphrasing Socrates ;)

What a joy to be a student.
What a relief to continuously learn.

Immersing myself more deeply in the philosophy, technique and application of Yoga Nidra in the recent TT with .of.alchemy.online was in many ways, surprising. Rather than simply floating in bliss, I found myself meeting unexpected layers within.
Of course, something begins to shift when we start working with the subconscious mind.

I need to be inland regularly. As much as I love a sunrise over the ocean, sometimes the energy of the open water feels too much. Too vast, too wide, too deep. I’m drawn to the bush with its mighty gumtrees, creeks, lakes and dams.
The stillness of an enclosed reservoir of water is soothing. The steadiness of a small creek’s gurgling feels peaceful.
Perhaps it’s my upbringing in landlocked Austria that stirs that craving.
Lucky I’ve got Manly Dam around the corner.

Anyone else resonates?

Healing is not a process
with a beginning and an end.
It is part of living.

**kcancer

“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”
Lao Tzu

A lesson that is most visible in the season of autumn. A leaf doesn’t cling to the tree. It knows when it’s time to let go.

When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.

cyclicalliving