Gifts of Practice

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been sitting with grief after the loss of my dear Auntie.
Spending time with family, sharing memories, tears, and quiet smiles has reminded me — again — of the profound and tender ways we are held by connection.

Grief has its own language. It moves through the body and heart in waves — sometimes raw and loud, sometimes soft as breath. And it’s in this tender place that my yoga practice and bodywork have offered me their deepest gifts.

Yoga — especially the quiet practices like Yoga Nidra, Restorative Yoga, and gentle touch — is sometimes misunderstood as something “light” or “superficial.” A myth that couldn’t be further from the truth.

These practices don’t simply relax us. They recalibrate us.
They help us absorb life’s experiences — the joyful ones and the heart-wrenching ones — deep into our tissues, our nervous system, our being. They help us digest and integrate.
They make space for resilience to grow, for sorrow to alchemize into deeper connection, and — yes — for joy to find its way back in.

As Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen so beautifully says:
“The mind is like the wind and the body like the sand: if you want to know how the wind is blowing, you can look at the sand.”

Through the gentle arts of yoga, we can see — and feel — how life’s winds move through us.
We can choose to lay down, soften, and be reshaped by love, by grief, by the full mystery of being alive.

Each time we return to practice, we return a little more whole.
And in the company of others — on the mat, in a quiet treatment room, or simply around a kitchen table with family — we are reminded that we do not walk through this life alone.

With love,
Jennie 🌿