"Gratitude opens the door to ... the power, the wisdom and the creativity of the universe.

You open the door through Gratitude"


Deepak Chopra

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During the Autumnal Equinox in September ... A colourful thread weaves into this time and place.

A sutra is a thread, and the Yoga Sutras are threads that weave together as a process of re-connection,

of union, a technology of integration.

Equinox is a time when perfect equilibrium of night and day greets us like an old friend.

Yogi Bhajan said ... to honour the moment with meditation and self-reflection.

Sweep out your internal temple, clear the altar of your heart, light the spiritual fire that rests there.

Have you delivered yourself to yourself?

Have you grown as a human being?

The personal really is universal.

At fall Equinox,

summer gives way to autumn and winter, darkness lengthens.

Time to give thanks, the harvest is in ... share food,

offer seva (selfless service).



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Living Mindfully


With each breath we start afresh.

At the end of the year and at the beginning of the new year, there is a pause, just like the pause between the in breath and the out breath. We stand at zero.  

This is an excellent time to reflect on what really matters to you. Give yourself time to care for yourself, relax, rejuvenate and reflect. To help you to make the most of this time of new beginnings there will always be restorative and rejuvenating yoga, meditation and gentle exercises on reflection and intention.




Mindfulness takes my breath away

Down the gentle path

Repeating notes of compassion

Written on the moment’s parchment


What this time can offer

Is blocked by pattern repetition

Undoing that stranglehold reveals

A pocket of pain

Below the shoulder blade

Exploding with past and future trouble

Leaving me lusciously stranded

In the here and now


Each slow footstep

Across the intentional walkway

Crisp brown branch remains

Indenting underfoot softly marking

Pressure from heel to toe

As a wind ripple crosses the foot’s arch

And a glancing shaft of amber light

Identifies the afternoon in play


One small bird cry

The konk of the raven

Always hiding, taunting, gliding

My step still in motion

A new indentation

Heel to toe, crunching twig

A swell of warmth within my belly

An opening of unarticulated joy

Quickly flying off like the raven.