politics

In person

We went over to Brighton at the weekend. We went for an event – for Friends of the Brighton Yoga Foundation – but this was reason enough to catch up with people I hadn’t hung out with in a long while. So Phil and Storm and I trekked over on Saturday, had a lovely dog

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Light it up red

It feels like coming out all over again. And I don’t have any desire to explain this yet in a way that most people will understand. When you come out as LGBT in some form, some (straight) people think it is kind to say: “You’re not really though, are you? Do you think this can

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Why I am not a yogini

The word yogini has a long and complex history within yoga. Its usage has always been as political as it is religious. Within modern yoga, yogini is a term that has been used by female practitioners, particularly yoga teachers, to claim something specific and shared about women’s experiences in yoga – modern hatha yoga in

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A small story

There are so many big stories being told right now, and I am mostly listening, sharing, amplifying those more urgent than my own. But I wanted to share a small story with you, if you have the time and the energy, because there are days when I feel as if history is moving so fast,

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Unskilled and undocumented

I don’t usually write about the politics of nationalism here, but bear with me, I have a point much closer to home to make. Anyway, this week saw the release of the UK government’s plans for post-Brexit immigration rules, alongside ongoing violence and protests against the Indian government’s new two-pronged citizenship reform: the CAA and

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Comfort zones

I’m thinking about comfort zones a lot today. I made some beautiful connections at the first International Yoga Nidra conference, on behalf of the Yoga Nidra Network sangha, and I want to honour that properly, especially the immense work done by John, Richard, Stephanie and the teams of iRest, the Desai sangha, Kripalu and Yoga

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Proof of Concept

Some people love to make things. I don’t. I enjoy it, yes. But creativity is like breathing for me. It drips from my fingers and fills me with daydreams. It stops me getting to bed at a reasonable time. It makes my hands itch. I get grumpier without it than without my yoga practice. Every

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