Returning to What Is True: Yoga, Nature, and the Unravelling of Samskaras

There’s a particular kind of magic that happens when we step outside the walls of the studio and onto the earth. A softening. A remembering. A quiet, spacious invitation to return to what is real.

Recently, at our wonderful Ebb and Flow retreat, I had the joy of guiding a group of women through a yoga practice held entirely in nature — under wide skies, amongst wild trees, with the hum of bees and the whisper of wind in the grass. The land held us. The practice met us just as we were. And in that setting, the ancient yogic principle of Satya — truthfulness — came alive in a way that felt deep, honest and utterly human.

Satya is not about speaking hard truths or always saying what’s on our minds. It's subtler than that. It asks us to gently peel back the layers of conditioning, comparison, and performance — and to notice what is true in this moment, for us. Not the truth we think we should feel, or the truth we’ve been told to believe. But the quiet knowing that lives in the bones, the breath, the beating of our own heart.

Practising outside strips things back. There are no mirrors. No polished floors. No roles to play. There’s only the earth, the breath, the birdsong — and our own lived experience.

And this is where Samskaras — the grooves and patterns we carry — begin to show themselves. These patterns aren’t just habits of the body, but habits of the mind, the nervous system, the spirit. The need to ‘get it right’. The instinct to push. The story that says rest must be earned.

In nature, those stories can soften.

There, on the grass, I watched the women gradually let go. From effort to ease. From doing to simply being. One breath at a time, something deeper than muscle and bone began to unwind. This is the true power of yoga. Not just the movement, but the inner shift — the reclamation of truth from beneath the tangle of expectation and repetition.

We do not need to fix ourselves. We do not need to force change. But we can choose to pause long enough to notice: What is true for me now? What patterns am I ready to release?

Each time we step into presence with honesty, we soften the hold of a samskara. Each time we meet ourselves with compassion, we lay down a new path. And each time we practise — especially on the earth, especially together — we remember that we are already whole.

May we keep returning to the truth that lives in our bodies. May we keep honouring the quiet, sacred work of unwinding. And may we always remember that healing doesn’t have to be hard — sometimes, it looks like lying in a field, breathing with the trees, and simply allowing ourselves to be.