It all exists right here

What I Read in Yoga This Month, June 2025

Dear Humans,

My husband and I are on vacation in Germany right now. I’m writing to you from a farmhouse nestled by the river. They’ve done a beautiful job on the aesthetic—light wood floors and furniture, hanging woven light fixtures, and a bathtub that looks out toward the forest.

It sounds so scenic, doesn’t it? And in truly so many ways it is. But as I write to you in this very moment, I’m feeling the stress of travel, more than the ease of being here.

The point isn’t to describe the travel hiccups in detail—it’s more to say that even on vacation, even in adventure—maybe most specifically during adventure—there will be downsides to balance the upsides. There will be lows to meet the highs.

Sometimes it seems like we’re working so hard, moving so fast, so that one day we’ll reach a certain point of totally ease. A lack of struggle. A lack of worry.

Especially with something like vacation. We heaps loads of expectation onto it, only to get there and remember that life is still life-ing.

But this is one of the most foundational truths in the yoga belief system: that there is no “there” to get to. There’s just being totally okay with right here.

My friends, joy will leave us and joy will come back to us. But in those moments when life feels hard, it’s so important to remember the immense beauty of the now.

When I look at the readings I’ve offered my yoga students this month, I think I’ve been trying to remind myself of that message more than anyone.

Joy will leave, joy will return.

It’s been a month of sickness and loss and some heartache, but here I am. Writing to you from the woods. What a gift.

How are you, my friends? Leave a comment. I’d love to here how summer is treating you.

Sending love,

Izzy

Izzy Martens

author, yoga teacher, sequence enthusiast

www.yogahumans.com

What I Read in Yoga This Month | June 2025

Reading One

Author: Hannah Ro // @hannahrowrites on instagram

I send these letters at the end of the month, and this one is titled June—but no matter when you’re reading it, the heart of the message stays evergreen. This poem is about openness: to the rain and sun, the footsteps and weeds, and how that very willingness to be touched by life—all of it—is what allows us to bloom.

How to Use This in Your Yoga Class: