Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem.  Photo by JR Ross.

During our recent yoga weekend I read this poem by Sufi mystic Rumi: 

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

~Rumi 

​
My soul knows the deep truth of these words and yet I've been finding it increasingly difficult recently to apply this wisdom in the face of world events and the abject horror in Gaza.  A genocide that is being live streamed through our phones, yet still not being called out for what it is by western powers. 

I am thoroughly ashamed of the inability of our UK government to fully condemn and take a stand against Israeli war crimes committed on what feels like a daily basis for so long.  Over the last 19 months I have been shocked and outraged at times by what feels like the complicity of much of our media, with coverage that in my opinion can seem to stray into the territory of gaslighting.  

In my younger years as an undergraduate of German studies, I wrote essays on the Third Reich and the Holocaust, as well as on the totalitarian state that was the GDR.  I felt that I existed in a world that was actively trying to learn lessons from history and move into a future of greater justice and freedom.  Now I feel as if I am living in a world that is asking me to witness genocide and then turn away, to accept daily atrocities as a horrific 'new normal'.  It is easy to end up feeling that our collective humanity itself is under threat.  I would go so far as to describe myself as being in a state of existential crisis recently and I'm sure I'm not alone.  

Following the journey of the Freedom Flotilla's 'Madleen' vessel since June 1st, felt like a much needed light in the darkness.  I would describe the twelve international volunteers on board as heroes of our time.  Watching video updates from these brave individuals during their symbolic mission to break the siege of Gaza felt both anchoring and inspiring.  A lifeline of hope.  I am writing this several days after the boat was seized by Israeli authorities before reaching Gaza, and at the time of writing three of the group remain detained in Israel.  Efforts to secure their release continue and you can follow the latest from the Freedom Flotilla Coalition here: Facebook

Inspired by the volunteers on the Madleen I have been asking myself the following questions:

How do we hold onto our humanity in the face of global injustice, genocide, environmental crisis and more..?  

Where can we find hope, a sense of being anchored into our own humanity and connected to others around the world in theirs? 

It is heartening to see the many large scale protests happening around the globe and humbling to think about those working on the ground providing medical and humanitarian support in the most impossible conditions.  

At home my yoga and meditation practice feel all-important, as world events seem to spiral in ever more frightening ways, as with the news this morning of Israel's attacks on Iran.  I want my practice to extend beyond the mat and out into the world.  My hope is that yoga and meditation can support us in walking through the world with integrity, with kindness and with an eyes-open-to-it-all kind of awareness, not looking away or hiding within ourselves but shining a steady light outwards.  

As I entered the room for my afternoon yoga class yesterday, most of my students were already rolling  out their mats.  With rain and heavy grey skies outside they were discussing whether the lights needed to be on inside.  One of the students, who had obviously arrived first, was saying, "It was so dark when I arrived I turned the lights on, but now that there are people in here the lights aren't needed anymore."  For a moment I was confused.. didn't more people need more light?  No, her point was that the people lit up the space so that it didn't look so dark.  I let this sink in.  And I invite you to let it sink in too. 

It feels more important than ever to tend to our inner light.  Let's do whatever it takes to keep shining and to lift up our voices to stand up for the oppressed, in Palestine and all over the globe.  

 'Women of Ramallah'
​Artwork by Palestinian artist Rawan Anani, 2025


Celtic Blessing of Light

"May the blessing of light be on you,
light without and light within. 

May the blessed sunlight shine upon you
And warm your heart till it glows, 
Like a great peat fire, so that the stranger may come 
And warm himself at it, as well as the friend." 

(Anonymous Irish)

Up here in North Wales I recently visited another famous tree.  This ancient yew tree has been estimated to be a mind-boggling 4000 years old!! ​

You just can't help but feel a sense of reverence and awe in the presence of this ancient yew.  It sits in a church yard now, but of course it predates Christianity by about half of it's lifetime!  

On the same day we also came across this pair of trees with their beautifully entwined root systems, exposed for us to appreciate a little of what is going on underground!

I often consider time spent on the yoga mat to be a kind of ‘training ground’ for life.  What do I mean by this?  Let’s say that during a simple movement exploration (coming in and out of a seated twist for example, or moving between dog pose and plank a few times) we ask ourselves, ‘How does this feel? Does my body want to go slower with this movement? Or does it need to speed up?  Where exactly do I need to stop in order to respect any given part of the body and work safely, whilst perhaps also bringing in a satisfying level of challenge..?'`

This process of paying close attention to our responses and impulses moment by moment can give us useful information about our lives off the mat.  Perhaps you notice that there’s a part of yourself that is never satisfied, always striving for more, or you notice that there’s a conflict between your felt sense and a habitual thought pattern telling you something like:
​‘I must fit in and do what everyone else is doing.’   This witnessing of ourselves and our patterns of thought is something that can lead us into deeper practice.  Self study, or Svadhyaya, is one of the Niyamas (inner observances) from the ancient yogic texts.  And the yoga mat offers a kind of laboratory for our study, should we wish to embark on the journey of self-discovery.

At this point in writing I paused for a 1-2-1 session on zoom. In our opening chat my student shared how she had had an insight during the week about how her yoga practice could inform life off the mat as well. The timing really made me smile as I had just finished writing the paragraph above moments earlier! My student had realised that just as we have choice about how to approach and when to stop in any particular yoga pose we also have choice about situations in life.  Importantly perhaps we can choose when and how to move towards and when to step back from a situation, with more clarity, after honing our skills and awareness on the yoga mat. 

This increase in levels of self awareness and therefore choice in all areas of life is one of the most profound and life changing benefits of a yoga practice. 

Does any of this resonate with you?  Let me know in the comments. :)