Yoga and Meditation
As resistance
For the last 3 years, I have been devoted to the practice of yoga. My mind has always moved at a relentless pace, often living in worries of the past or future, in a way that has made it hard to stay present. Nothing lands me back in my body like a yoga class, nothing brings me more peace and stillness. The sprinting speed of my thoughts finally has permission to slow. After much reflection (and unforgettable encouragement from dear friends) I decided to take my practice one step further, and have begun my 200 hour yoga teacher training.
This program will entail 10 weekends and 10 Wednesdays across 10 months. Our first weekend began with the theme of Ahimsa, also known as the practice of non-violence or kindness. This was introduced to us on February 28th, 2026, the day the United States began a senseless war. The US began, once again, bombing the Middle East. This programming could not have been more timely.
How do we keep going, when Iran, Palestine, Sudan, and more and more and more, continue to be tortured? When pedophiles run a country built on greed? America has been at some kind of war (or been on the wrong side of some kind of genocide) for 232 of 249 years of it’s existence. How can a country that parades freedom around like a prized pet, only ever do so by bulldozing the lives and lands of others? And let’s not be too gentle here, “bulldozing” means bombing, stealing resources, cold blooded killings, rapings, forced assimilation, and erasing of culture and land. Now more than ever, we need to find ways to process the weight of the world that maintains our joyful spark and our ability to fight back and resist. We must practice presence, we must be kind to ourselves, and find ways to stave off despair in a dark world.
Across the first yoga teacher training month we reviewed the true meaning of yoga and meditation, anatomy, yoga pose cuing, classroom management and how to observe yoga through a teacher lens rather than only as a student. While flowing through these topics, we kept coming back to the principles of kindness to ourselves and others through the practice of yoga. It felt like an act of resistance against current events to be thinking of non-violence among the beginnings of war. I could waste hours doom-scrolling and feeling hopeless, but was instead offered two meditation practices across my first month of training that truly stuck with me and helped me find more presence.
Love and Kindness Meditation
This is a brief mindfulness practice split into 3 components:
Sending love and kindness to those you love
Sending love and kindness to those you are neutral towards
Sending love and kindness to those you are not aligned with
There are three phrases you say during each component: I wish you to be well, I wish you to be happy, I wish you to be free. This is a seated meditation, and upon finding a comfortable and grounded position, you practice deep breathing and imagine these groups.
When I thought of my loved ones, I pictured the smiling, freckled faces of my friends in the Summer. I pictured us splashing around in the ocean, and laughter louder than waves crashing. I thought of some of my oldest friends and some of my newest, all who I call family. I thought of crows feet and dimples, dancing and dinners, unconditional love and joy overflowing. I adore my friends so much I could burst. I wished them to be well, I wished them to be happy, I wished them to be free.
When I thought of those I was neutral towards, I thought of the show The Good Place and I thought of Robin Wall Kimmerer’s writing, both of which show us how far removed we are from the source of what makes up our daily commodities. I thought of fruit passing through hundreds of hands to make it to my local grocery store. The people responsible do not get my daily attention, yet greatly impact the ease and nourishment of my life. If I thought more deeply about how these items are gifts from the earth, and gifts from hard working hands, I would appreciate them all the more. With a renewed sense of perspective, I wished them to be well, I wished them to be happy, I wished them to be free.
Lastly, and most challenging for me, I thought of those I am not aligned with. For this section, my mind took me to my friendship graveyard. I thought of faces I once thought of as family, friends I once loved like sisters. I saw their smiles so clearly, I remembered what their love felt like, while holding space for the heartbreak of their loss when we could no longer find common ground. These were people I thought would be by my side forever, who now exist outside of my limited understanding of the world. There’s a bitter sting in allowing old wounds to resurface, but it felt like a soothing salve to wish them to be well, wish them to be happy and wish them to be free.
Tea Ceremony Meditation
One weekend into my yoga teacher training and I already felt myself being changed by a single activity. Gratefully, our cohort was then offered additional meditation experience via a four hour silent meditation retreat three weeks later. We were offered the definition that meditation is a way to find stillness, a way to come home to yourself. My mind had been spinning with everything going on in the world, but I went into the retreat without expectations and attempted to find this stillness without self judgement.
For the first time in months, I had the time and space to reflect on old wounds newly resurfaced and reflect on the horrors happening every day. My friendship graveyard had been top of mind since the love and kindness meditation, as well as the brutality of a senseless war. Unintentionally, I had kept so busy I was able to suppress the nagging feeling in my chest that I needed to process these emotions, a suppression that silence did not allow me to continue. One of my favorite forms of mediation is a tea ritual, and this is where my mind felt safe to process these swirling thoughts. There is one leader of meditation pouring tea into beautiful vessels, handed to you slowly, both actions taken with the utmost care. Each offering is a gift. We are handed 4 small bowls of tea over the course of 45 minutes, and with each cup, I reflect. I let myself feel the pains of loss, I let myself grieve for myself and the world.
Initially, as the first cup of tea was being poured, my thoughts began to race - I asked myself, am I fated to feel the heartache of missing women who have made me wonder, forever? How can I possibly lighten the weight of their absence? How can anything matter right now while the world is engulfed in the fumes of bodies and oil bombed and ablaze? When the first cup was handed to me, I took a deep breath and I reminded myself of the goal of meditation. I cannot know the answers to these questions. The only thing I had to do at that moment was to sit, drink tea, and remember.
I held tightly to the warmth of the vessel in my hands and thought of the warmth the women of my past provided me. I took my time smelling the nutty, almost chocolate-like aroma of the tea, and I remembered their favorite perfumes and essential oils. Scent is such a powerful tie to memory. I thought of the poisoned air in Iran, and wondered what the scent survivors wake up to. I twirled the liquid around and tears sprung to my eyes. I swallowed gulp after gulp, felt the heat in my throat as it moved down towards my center.
I felt the tea grow cold the longer I reflected, and I knew my only responsibility was to keep my heart warm in turn. If meditation is a practice of coming home to yourself, then I came home to a heart that hurts and heals and hopes. I let the grief move through me, shed my tears, and drank my tea. I felt the points where my body met the earth with greater intention, I allowed the cadence of my breath to slow, I allowed my jaw to slacken. Meditation is a powerful thing.
Nearly a month later, and I’m still reflecting on this experience. It helped me be more present and push aside the “what if’s” and focus on the truths of what was and what is. It made me feel empowered to focus on what I can control, how I can use the love I’ve had, how I can use my anger and heartache, as fuel. Fuel to use my voice for good, fuel to practice kindness and non violence every day. The more present we are, the less we get lost in daydreams (or nightmares) that keep us distracted and tapped out - the more we can fight for the beautiful world we want as a reality. Where are you finding ways to stay present in a world ever changing? What allows you to come home to yourself?
All my love,
-Katie
Recs:
Ways to get involved:
The US Campaign for Palestinian Rights has action items to follow https://uscpr.org/
Send messages to representatives to support the Block the Bombs Act: https://www.uscpraction.org/action-alerts/block-the-bombs-tell-your-representative-to-support-the-block-the-bombs-act
Keep up with ACLU efforts: https://www.aclu.org/action
Ways to let it flow through you:
Writing has been my favorite way to get the weight of the past and the weight of the world out of my body
Attending protests, standing and chanting with the community always brings hope. There are so many out there who share our vision for a more beautiful world.
Meditation practices, even if short and sweet, in addition to limiting screentime, can help bring presence & fuel us to push the movement against fascism forward.
Music Recs:
Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party - Hayley Williams, the whole album. She’s performing her solo tour right now and the videos area renewing my undying love for this album
Twin Fawn by Witch Post
3rd to Cheese and the Sea by Mark Crotti and Sam McMahon
Florence Road’s new EP Spring Forward, especially the song Miss!
Logging Field and The Hand by Annabelle Dinda
Click Clack Symphony by Raye and Hans Zimmer
Dead in Wisconsin by Ray bull
Let Me Down by Ashaine White
Is Joy Easy by Mt Joy
Girl Group’s new EP Little Sticky Pictures
Book Recs:
I’m finishing up Parable of the Talents right now and it’s…. just as horrifyingly prophetic as everyone says. Octavia Butler may be able to see the future.
You write so thoughtfully!