I 🥰 Shavasana
I used to hate (a.k.a fear) it.
At the end of a yoga class, when the teacher would encourage us to be still and quiet the mind, that felt like my cue to get the F**K out.
Why would I want to be still and with my thoughts?
As a yoga teacher and therapist, I’ve witnessed this in so many people: on the mat, in session, in the quiet moments we carve out together. The discomfort of stillness is one of the most universal things I know.
The mind is a busy place. Grief stories. Old pain. The shopping list. The to-do list. The should-haves and what-ifs. All of it competing for airtime. It was as if stillness and quiet were asking my inner critic to show up and take the mic. Self doubt, shame and judgment screaming to be heard.
And it wasn’t just in my mind. I began to notice it in my body too. For me it’s a stomach ache, and an overall numbing. It may be a tightness in your chest, tension in your shoulders or jaw. Take a moment, where do you notice uncomfortable sensation in your body?
Underneath all of that noise, there is something quieter. A gentler voice. An inner knowing. Call it intuition, wisdom, the soul. It doesn’t shout and it waits.
It took me a long time to learn to hear this voice.
Over time, I allowed these voices to have their say. Over time, I noticed where they showed up in my body. Over time, I stopped resisting these parts of me.
Rather than slamming the door on these parts of me, I let them in. Sometimes reluctantly. Can it be scary? Yes. Can it be freeing? Yes.
In stillness and quiet, the feelings and thoughts shift. They alchemize to tenderness, wisdom and compassion. In stillness and quiet I am able to connect with myself in a loving way. I connect to something much bigger than me.
Whatever you’d like to call this feeling: G-D, source, one, divine, a higher power, Wonder Woman. It’s personal and it’s powerful.
Now I love hanging out in shavasana with curiosity. I wonder what messages, information or guidance I will receive.
And here’s what I’ve learned : shavasana doesn’t have to happen on a yoga mat. The concept travels. It can be 10 seconds before school pickup. Five minutes before you get out of bed. Three minutes before a meeting. A conscious pause after a phone call, a walk, a meal, a run. Taking shavasana off the mat and into your everyday life is a practice and over time, a real gift to yourself.
I create these moments throughout the day. And
when it feels dark, I surrender and trust that it will pass.
Stillness used to feel like something to escape. Now it feels like coming home.


I was not a yoga person when my husband had a major health crisis (he's good now). Yoga saved me. The quiet from my chaos of taking care of him was a lifeline. Lying still on the mat for 60 minutes seemed like the last thing that would help me. And yet it did.