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.

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.

Most people notice it at some point. The spine doesn’t move quite as easily, the hips feel tighter, and there’s a general sense of stiffness that wasn’t there before, even if you’re still relatively active. It’s easy to put this down to ageing, but what’s really changing is the behaviour of the connective tissues in the body. And you do not have to 'put up with it'!

This month, I invite you into the element of air, and into something even more refined than that - space. This is the place of the heart. Not just the physical heart, but the energetic centre of Anahata. The space where breath moves freely. Where we meet ourselves and others with a little more gentleness. Where we begin to soften the edges we have been holding so tightly.

This week in sangha, we continue discussing The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living by Eknath Easwaran. We discussed Chapter 2 Verses 45-46. Each week, I will attempt to summarise the parts of the book we discuss.

Fire is often associated with intensity, transformation, and power. But in yoga philosophy, fire also has another quality that is quieter, but just as important: clarity.

In yoga we often talk about breath in a very simple way. We inhale and we exhale. But within the deeper teachings of yoga philosophy, the movement of breath and energy in the body (prana) is understood to be much more nuanced. The yogic tradition describes five main movements of prana, known as the five vayus. The word vayu means wind or movement. These are not physical structures we can point to in the body, but rather patterns of energetic movement that describe how l

The fire element shapes this month of practice. Not as something dramatic or explosive, but as something quietly clarifying. Fire brings warmth, light, and the ability to see things more clearly.

If you have ever practised with me, you will know that rest is never an afterthought. I teach rest as a spiritual practice. It is woven through everything I teach. In the pauses between movements. In the way we arrive. In the way we end our practise. But there is something different about dedicating an entire evening to it.

Each January, there is a familiar energy in my yoga classes. New intentions are set. Mats are unrolled with enthusiasm. People arrive with a sense that this might be the year they finally establish a practice. But yoga was never meant to belong only to the beginning of the year.

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.

February’s full moon arrives at a liminal moment. Winter is still very much here, and yet something has begun to shift. The days are lengthening, almost imperceptibly. The soil is no longer entirely dormant. Snowdrops push their way through cold ground, not because conditions are perfect, but because the time has come.

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

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.

A New Moon always asks us to pause. It is the dark of the lunar cycle, when nothing is visible yet, and everything is possible. A moment before momentum. A breath held in the body before movement begins. When the New Moon arrives in Capricorn, that pause becomes deeply earthy and deliberate. As January's theme is the earth element, I couldn't let this new moon go unmarked.

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

The earth element will shape the first month of teaching this year - not as a concept to analyse, but as something to inhabit, slowly and honestly. January doesn’t ask for expansion or reinvention. Instead, it offers weight, depth, and the quiet reassurance of what already exists. Earth will become our steady companion: present in the pauses between movements, in the deliberate pace of practice, and in the way we return again and again to simple, familiar shapes.

If things feel a bit much, you’re not doing it wrong. When the pressure to get it right creeps in, pause. Take one slow breath, soften the body, and come back to what matters — presence over presents, connection over perfection.

Chakras are often mentioned in yoga spaces, but rarely explained in a way that feels simple, grounded, or relevant to real life. This short introduction is for complete beginners — whether you practise yoga or not. We’ll explore what chakras are, why they matter, and how they offer a compassionate way of understanding our bodies, emotions and inner lives, without anything being “blocked” or broken.

Fascia is the silken, fibrous tissue that wraps through and around everything — muscles, bones, organs, even nerves. It’s what gives us our shape and our sense of cohesion. And because fascia is living tissue, it adapts to what we do most often.