Dear Humans,
I am in the midst of an (extremely) surreal experience. Right now I am in north Sweden on retreat with Rachel Brathen (many of you likely know her as Yoga Girl).
I’ve been following Rachel’s journey for many years. I have watched her life unfold online and listened to her podcast and generally felt connected to her via this remote channel for a long time.
So, as you can maybe imagine, it’s extremely strange and wonderful to be actually with her and get to participate in her class and soak in her teachings. Last night we laid on the ground, looking up to the sky trying to find the northern lights. We were laying side by side and I was able to hold her hand and tell her how much she’s meant to me. That might sound silly, given that we’d never met before this trip, but it’s really true. We have so many teachers. So many guides. Sometimes we don’t realize the impact they’ve had on us until we’re with them.
It was a really sweet experience to be able to tell this person—who has impacted many millions, but also me—what they mean to you. Because our teachers, in whatever form they take, literal or metaphorical, help us shape the lives we want to live.
So, here’s your reminder (before a bigger one) to tell your teachers that they mean something to you. It doesn’t even matter if they know it yet. They never will unless you tell them.
I’ve been sharing some pictures from Sweden on my instagram stories (@yoga.humans). It’s been incredible, and I’ll have more time to process it in the months ahead, and share what I’ve been learning and reflecting on within my own practice and as a yoga teacher.
But for today, I want to share some reflections on the experience I’ve had of feeling “held” this week. Held by the yoga practice, held by my fellow sisters and new friends on this retreat, and held by another yoga teacher, rather than having to be the one to do the holding.
If you’re a yoga teacher, I imagine you tend to be the person to hold space. Maybe you hold everything. Maybe you’re quite good at allowing other people to share their energy with you. Maybe it sometimes feels like you’re holding a lot.
But how often are you really giving yourself the experience of being held? How are you releasing your own energy? Whether through a strong practice, or a soft one, or a good cry in a moment where you feel totally safe. How often are you actually practicing these days, my friends? And not practicing to accomplish something, but to really drop down, to drop in.
How often, lately, have you laid back and let the ground hold you? When was the last time you let another person really, truly, hold you?
We can’t carry it all. And we aren’t meant to. We need some release. We need a way to pull the fuse and ease the pressure.
I was laying on the ground in practice the other day and I felt the tears welling up inside of me. I let them flow. I wasn’t crying because I felt sad, or even joyful, or angry. I was crying because it felt like the first time in a long, long time that I had given myself the gift of receiving the practice. The first time I’d in a long time that I’d let another teacher really hold my practice, hold my energy, hold the space.
So for this week, my offering is simple. It’s a reminder to find a way to let yourself be held. Whether that’s through a yoga class, or maybe 45 minutes that you set aside—where you turn off your phone and open your journal and just write and release whatever’s inside of you. Maybe it’s a virtual yin or restorative class. Maybe it’s something else. Whatever it is, do it for you. Do it with no other motive. Do it just to be.
If you need a journal prompt, perhaps reflect on this: Spring is tomorrow. Winter is done. What can you let go of? What can you set down? How can you nourish yourself for the growth and new season ahead?
Retreat reminds us that we can, actually, retreat. We can step away. We can be held. Then, when we come back, we’re ready to hold space again.
I love you, dear humans out there in the world. Being a human can be hard. We’re not in it alone.
Until next time,



