This week in sangha, we continue discussing The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living by Eknath Easwaran. We discussed Chapter 2 Verse 60. Each week, I will attempt to summarise the parts of the book we discuss.

This evening brings a Blue Moon. Despite its evocative name, a Blue Moon isn't actually blue. It is simply an extra full moon on the calendar; a reminder that sometimes life doesn't fit neatly into our plans, schedules, or expectations. Perhaps that is why I find Blue Moons so compelling.

This week in sangha, we continue discussing The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living by Eknath Easwaran. We discussed Chapter 2 Verse 59. Each week, I will attempt to summarise the parts of the book we discuss.

A glass here and there, something I instinctively felt good drinking long before I fully understood why. And over the past month, thanks to a lovely friend who gave me some grains, I’ve started making my own milk kefir at home, and honestly, it has felt like the final little piece of my peri-menopause puzzle. Since drinking homemade kefir daily, I’ve noticed surprisingly significant changes.

This week in sangha, we continue discussing The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living by Eknath Easwaran. We discussed Chapter 2 Verse 57. Each week, I will attempt to summarise the parts of the book we discuss.

On 1st May, we meet the full moon. We are not yet in the height of summer, and not yet in the softness of early spring, but we find ourselves in that in-between space where things are no longer just beginning, and not yet fully formed.

Today’s new moon rises in Aries, the first sign of the zodiac and the point from which everything begins again. If Pisces was the dream, the dissolving, the softening at the edges… Aries is the moment we open our eyes and decide what we are going to do with it.

This week in sangha, we continue discussing The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living by Eknath Easwaran. We discussed Chapter 2 Verses 46-49. Each week, I will attempt to summarise the parts of the book we discuss.

We may not be able to change everything happening across the globe, but we can shape the atmosphere in our homes, our streets, and our communities. A small act of kindness offered quietly, right where we are, is never insignificant. In its own gentle way, it helps tip the balance of the world toward a little more care.

As we move deeper into March, our yoga practice continues to explore the fire element. Fire is often associated with energy, effort, and transformation. In yoga philosophy it relates to Manipura chakra, the centre of digestion and inner power. When we hear the word digestion, most of us immediately think of food. But the yogic understanding of digestion is much broader than that.

This week in sangha, we continued discussing The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living by Eknath Easwaran. We discussed Chapter 2 Verses 26-38. Each week, I will attempt to summarise the parts of the book we discuss.

This new moon in Aquarius carries the familiar invitation to begin again, but not by pushing forward. Aquarius does not ask for urgency. It asks for perspective.

Self-love is often spoken about as an idea, a concept, or a goal to reach. But in lived experience, it is something far simpler and far more demanding than that. Self-love is a relationship. It is the longest and most intimate relationship you will ever have. It is with you every day, through everything. There is no stepping away from it, no pause button, no clean slate on a Monday morning. Like any relationship, it is shaped by how you listen, how present you are...

The Bhagavad Gita is an ancient Indian text, yet it speaks to very ordinary human experiences. At its heart, the Gita is a conversation. A human being is facing a situation that feels impossible, and he doesn’t know how to act without betraying himself. He turns to a trusted guide and asks, quite simply, “What am I supposed to do?” That question is the doorway into the whole book.

Motherhood is so often spoken about in terms of love, devotion, and sacrifice. And all of that is true. But it is also incomplete. Because motherhood is not only tenderness. It is endurance. It is vigilance. It is the long, quiet work of holding; physically, emotionally, invisibly - and often without pause or witness. Mothers carry a lot. In their hearts, hands and shoulders. They carry worry and responsibility, mental lists and emotional weather. They carry the unspoken nee

This week in sangha we explored Ishvara Pranidhana, the practice of surrender. Our conversation moved into experiences of flow, connection, and those moments when effort softens and something else seems to carry us. We reflected on how safety, presence, and trust can open unexpected doorways, revealing versions of ourselves that emerge when we let go rather than try harder.

The edges of the day hold quiet power. In this post, I share why small, repeatable morning and evening rituals matter, and introduce two new videos offering gentle practices for beginning and ending the day with more presence and care.

In some corners of modern spirituality, the ego has become a kind of villain. Something to overcome, dissolve, silence, or eradicate. If you’ve ever heard phrases like “ego death” or “living beyond the ego”, you’ll know the tone - as if the ego were a flaw in our design rather than a part of it. Yoga tells a quieter, more compassionate story. In yogic philosophy, the ego is not a monster to be slain. It is a function of the mind - necessary, human, and profoundly shaped by ex

This year, I read more than seventy books ,fiction and non-fiction, and each one left something behind. Some offered language. Some softened me. Some unsettled me in ways that later felt essential. What follows isn’t a comprehensive list, but a shortlist of books that will stay with me forever. These are the ones that didn’t just inform me, but worked on me - shaping how I think, how I teach, and how I hold space.

Each year, I take time to reflect on my work - not as an exercise in productivity or performance, but as a practice of honest listening. I look back at what worked well, what didn’t, and the growth I may not have fully recognised in the moment. This part of my reflection isn’t about failure. It’s about noticing friction - the moments where something felt slightly out of alignment, or where my body quietly asked for a boundary sooner.