10/9/25 Live Session Recording

1. Surrender as Strength

For me, Ishvara Pranidhana has been showing up as learning to trust the process, especially when things feel uncertain. Surrender doesn’t mean giving up, it feels more like softening into what’s already here and letting go of the need to fix or control it. In my practice, that looks like pausing when I feel resistance and remembering that being still is also part of the work. In my life, it’s meant allowing myself to rest and to believe that healing can happen without me forcing it.

2. Pace and Presence

Slowing down in teaching can feel vulnerable, especially when students expect faster movement. I’ve noticed that when we move slowly, more emotion and awareness start to surface, and that can be intense for people. I try to hold space by offering choices and by reminding everyone that there’s no “right” pace. Sometimes I’ll name what’s happening, like saying, “Notice if your body wants to move faster,” which helps people feel seen instead of judged.

3. Integration and Application

This week, I’ve been more aware of how surrender, contentment, and discipline weave through my daily life. When I catch myself wanting to control an outcome, I come back to the breath and remember that devotion to the practice is enough. I’ve also noticed my inner voice softening, and a little more patience with myself and others. The Yamas and Niyamas are starting to feel like something I live, not just something I learn.

Thank you for another incredible transmission. 🙏🏼

Ishvara Pranidhana (surrender) reminds me of the incredible miracle that is the human experience.  

I am grateful for the incredible strength of the Devine Feminine that created all  beings. From the formless to the form. I surrender to the human experience and practice meditation and yoga to connect to the ineffable. I am a student of life and hope to lead with love, joy, compassion and equanimity. 

“Our human bodies are expressions of the Earth’s creative force. Everything that makes human life—breathing, eating, elimination, perception, feeling, language—occurs only in concert with Earth. no thought would ever take place without the prior existence of Earth. No thought would be thinkable without air, water, fire, space, dirt. Even our most abstract ideas, like freedom, justice, and happiness, are nothing more or less than Earth’s urge, the thought of wind, sky, water, and light. Nothing we think or do could ever be more profound or true than these natural elements, which are literally nothing more or less than our own bodies.”

- Norman fisher

I love the concept of surrender as strength and in particular the notion that it relates to trust in self. For me, surrender emerges as a daily practice of letting go of the thoughts, narratives and limited beliefs that no longer serve me, and instead, walk along the path that encourages growth and evolution one breath, one moment at a time. In my life right now, I am waiting to hear about whether I will be accepted into an honours 4th year in psychology at university. With a sense of uncertainty for my future I am reminded to trust in the process and to allow what I have worked so hard for to come into fruition in its own time and way – to hand over the seeds of my work to a power that is bigger than me. In this process I am prompted to notice the anxiety that arises with the thought of not getting accepted into the course – herein lies my practice of strength and surrender; through shining a light on my inner experience (anxiety) I notice how much this outcome means to me and in turn choose to navigate through the process in a mindful and compassionate way with the knowledge that I will be ok no matter the outcome.

Hi everyone! It is (Canadian) Thanksgiving this weekend, and while I do not align with what has contributed to the onset of this "holiday", the practice of gathering and expressing gratitude for the many blessings we have in this lifetime is deeply meaningful to me. We will gather next weekend with family to share food and laughter with one another. As I reflect, I'm very thankful for this course and the insight it continues to bring me. I haven't been able to catch all of the live sessions lately (and have been needing to leaving partway through the ones I have been attending due to life responsibilities), but I'm no less thankful for this community and the teachings I receive from each of you!

Strength in surrendering has been a big theme in my life over 2025, and an area I continue to work on supporting. At the beginning of the year, I was pushing myself so harshly to complete my PhD studies, burning the candle at both ends in so many ways which left me exhausted, depleted and out of balance. "I'll feel so much better when this is done. If I sacrifice now (time/family moments/sleep), I'll be done that much sooner" became a motto I lived by. When I didn't make my initial target (and again, when I didn't meet my second target), I found great disappointment in myself for "failing". Ironically enough, the concept of "failing" couldn't be further from the truth, as what has taken me longer (ie., this course, and a training in restorative justice) have added so much more depth to my academic pursuits than I ever could have imagined. It's been a lot of reminding myself to find peace in this journey, that it isn't about "finishing" anything, because in reality, it is all a learning process that evolves over time. Surrendering to a timeline much greater than my own has brought about a real sense of peace (with ongoing fleeting moments of angst!)

Lately, surrender has felt less like a choice and more like a continual practice of remembering that I’m not supposed to control everything. Ishvara Pranidhana has been showing up for me in small, quiet ways — in how I breathe through uncertainty, how I meet resistance in my own body, and how I hold space when a group’s energy doesn’t match what I planned.

When I’m facilitating group yoga therapy, surrender means listening to the pulse of the room — the collective nervous system — instead of forcing an agenda. Some days, that looks like spending an entire session in chair-supported breathwork because that’s where regulation is happening. Other times, it’s trusting silence when my instinct is to fill it. I’ve noticed that the slower the pace, the more I meet my own discomfort with stillness. But that’s also where the most honest healing happens — where nervous systems start to remember safety.

Through my mentorship and practice, I’ve realized that surrender isn’t passive. It’s the strength that comes from staying present when things don’t unfold the way I thought they would. It’s what keeps me aligned to service instead of performance.

The teachings of the Yamas and Niyamas keep weaving through everything — Tapas reminding me to keep showing up with compassion, Santosha helping me accept what is, and Ishvara Pranidhana softening me back into trust. These days, surrender feels less like letting go and more like letting life move through me — breath by breath, moment by moment.

I love the reframing of surrender as acceptance. The world around us is so crazy and unpredictable and it is so difficult to find stillness. I've noticed it in my practice too. I find myself shaky and unsteady in poses that used to come so easily. I am so envious of Kurt and his surrender in tree pose. I hope to get back to that place.

1. Surrender as Strength: How does the concept of Ishvara Pranidhana — releasing control or attachment to outcomes — show up in your personal life or facilitation? What does surrender look or feel like in practice, rather than in theory?

At 58 I'm reminded of muscle atrophy, keeping mobile, stretching, lifting weights, walking for a interval-paced 30 minutes every day, and practicing yoga. The formal practice where I move, and then living yoga off the mat. This body is still strong, fit, and fast. Thank God. It's hard work and the investment pays even dividends but the work is hard. Maybe I like hard! Surrender, yes, I like this. It's giving up or giving in when I've chosen 'what hill to die on'. I remember that SadGuru meme where he says it takes two fools to argue. I don't argue, even with an ADHD drive for justice. It's all good. I think an easier type of surrender comes with age and/or gaining life experience. I thank God for my genes. I'm lucky and for those thoughts and blessings I am grateful. Surrender in theory sounds to me like a western cop-out, or, just give in, man. In practice, it is divine. I don't have to succeed or win anything. I won it all when I was conceived. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am also at the same time super respectful that that is only my perspective in this incarnation. There's a great reference to gratitude and the biological studies that prove it's efficacy that I saw on Instagram. I'll post the link below. In practice, I think surrender, or Ishvara Panidhara, is a release and an exhale. A dropping into an asana, an accepting the limit of today's stretch, and a feeling of both 'oh not today', and 'yeah let's go!'

2. Pace and Presence: We talked about the challenge of offering slow, mindful practice in spaces where participants may be used to (or expect) faster movement. What potential barriers exist in teaching this way? How might you hold space for both stillness and safety when pacing feels “too slow”?

Incarcerated persons who have lived in a fight/flight response mode will struggle with 'slow'. I know that if I'm feeling impatient or frustrated with a thought, an idea, or an event that day, I want to hurry up. I want to 'get there'. The thing with that is all I have to do is remember in that moment that that is what is happening and what I need to do to take a long 7 second breath, hold it, and in that space DECIDE to stop and go slow. I breathe out and let the slowness of that drop me into the space. Breathe slow, move slow. I have no need to run or rush, and if that doesn't work, then yoga still doesn't care, and I'll come back to the mat later. I know if I have a female student and she has lots of hormones racing around her system and she doesn't quite know herself, nothing is going to help. Mood, mental health, and lived experiences inform the capacity to slow down. Sometimes, I like a fast Sun Salutation (Surya Namaskar). Even the name seems to demand a faster than usual pronunciation. A fast Sun Salutation is energising and challenging. In fact, as I type this, I might practice a few after I type this. Time and a place. But if slow is appropriate or required, the barriers are the practice and maybe I might start fast and invite my students to slow consecutive sequences down to a slow, a slow, a slow, then a full stop. I might make that the challenge and therefore the Path. We can't control how fast or slow we're born or how fast or slow we die. Not really. But maybe we can take control and practice autonomy and self-discipline and practice, and therefore live, either fast or slow. Choose slow today, do fast tomorrow. Hey! Compromise! Either way, maybe surrender to slow, and give fast a day off.

3. Integration and Application: How are you noticing the teachings of the Yamas and Niyamas—particularly surrender, self-discipline, and contentment—informing your daily choices, reactions, or self-talk this week?

This is a great question and I can very enthusiastic about it. Where my yoga philosophy practice is consistent, I find that perhaps the Yamas and Niyamas actually merge harmoniously and the fast, loud, bouncy 'me' becomes a calmer, slower, more observant version. There are still days for energy, but mostly it feels as though the authentic connected 'me' is a product of a melting together of at all. Now! That is not without it's frustrations, because I'm the only one doing it in my family, work, and friendship circle. A part of me wants to share the joy and teach it and recruit to the cause, but people are generally tired, or syill bothered by the pandemic lockdowns and traumas. Then I know that that frustration, if it's frustration at all, is an integral part of the process. I can be content with the apparent loneliness of the journey, maintain non-attachment to how people and my surroundings respond to 'me', and feel what the Buddha said, that 'everything is perfect'. If everything is perfect, and it is, then why would I want to change anything?

A nice session, this one, thank you.

Surrender as strength has been a "mantra" told to me by my dad for just about my whole life. I've always really struggled with anxiety and the unknown heightens the anxiety for sure. I grew up hearing the serenity prayer from him constantly, especially in those moments of panic and anxiety. Letting go of the things I cannot change has been the hardest thing to live by. I'm not sure why either because almost ALWAYS it is proven to me that stressing about the unknown is worthless and everything usually turns out to be okay. 

Offering a slow mindful practice feels very vulnerable to me because I almost always hurry through asanas as a student. I know how difficult it can be to sit in one pose. However, I do think that those slow, mindful moments are the ones that we grow and shift the most in. Some cueing that helps me while staying in poses might be, "If you need to step out of this pose that's totally okay", or, "Take what you need and leave what you don't". Maybe encouraging students by suggesting they have a point to focus on and taking long deep inhales and exhales.

Since starting this YTT, I notice a very small shift in how I go about my day. I feel I am starting to be much more patient, I'm also trying really hard to not overthink my actions whether they are past, present, or future. I tend to fixate on things I said or did wrong and how others might've perceived me. Surrendering those thoughts and being content with who I am today makes existing feel a lot lighter. I have also made an active effort to stop using my daily vices as much, little by little I see the change! 

Surrender as strength: an ode to accepting things as they come, and allowing things to go as they do

This past weekend, I've been processing my grandmother's death. In experiencing this loss, I have been reminded of the contentment and ease that comes with acceptance of things outside of my personal power or control, and processing my grandmother's death has proved no different. I am in awe of the different ways in which grief sits in my body, mostly in my lower back and in my throat. I have been walking in the brisk fall air to contemplate the changing season outside, nature being my most favorite place to spend time in and reflect. In doing so, I have come to learn from nature's wisdom in letting go as they leaves surrender from its life-sustaining support, the branches of the trees, for the winter is coming. As I await winter's arrival and have the luxury of being able to witness nature's transitions in all its beauty, its life-death-life cycle, I've realized how true acceptance of what is and what is not, to embody surrender, for me, has allowed for so much more to take space in my life. For one, surrendering to my emotions, allowing myself to feel, accepting the different elements of grief that I am experiencing is allowing me to accept others as they are, too. I've noticed that I've approached the days following my grandmother's death with an ease, where I am not fighting with the day or with my plans, my thoughts, or my emotions. I am listening to my body closer and more intentionally as ever, and I am allowing. I am feeling grateful, hopeful, loved, and supported by a power much greater than me. 

As a yoga participant, I have been taking my time more and more during practice with transitions and during periods of rest. I hope I am able to engender this element of practice as a facilitator! 

1. Surrender as Strength: How does the concept of Ishvara Pranidhana — releasing control or attachment to outcomes — show up in your personal life or facilitation? What does surrender look or feel like in practice, rather than in theory?

Releasing control is a big one for me at the moment, realsing what I want to do and stepping into that, releasing that the growth comes from action not inaction. I've created narratives around what I want to do that has limited me - stopped me from trying and surrendering to the process allows me to cultivate embodied understanding. That is the goal, nothing external to that.

1. Integration and Application: How are you noticing the teachings of the Yamas and Niyamas—particularly surrender, self-discipline, and contentment—informing your daily choices, reactions, or self-talk this week?

As I've been navigating my new job these past few months I've found it to be a huge challenge that I've set for myself that's really taking me out of my comfort zone. It's been so rewarding to see myself practice the yamas and niyamas in this time. Showing up for myself in a disciplined way for the first time and taking that time in the morning commute to be with whatever is there and setting an intention. Finding contentment in the little sweet moments of the day. Sitting in the discomfort when it comes up and accepting it. Not rushing to change it or find some solution but just being, this is where my learning is at the moment and my mind just wriggles with the un-comfortability sometimes, but when change is necessary I will know. This is showing me the way and preparing me for the journey I need to go on.

I have a torrid affair with surrender. It's the primary principle in regards to the 12 steps. We admitted we were powerless over our addiction and our lives had become unmanageable. In a way I grew up in the recovery world, I got clean, with meetings at 21, and I lived by the idea that Surrendering was waving the white flag, which I still kind of think it can be. But after the lecture, thinking surrender is strength, is presence, is setting a boundary, is focus. A compassionate acceptance if you will. Not I give up and can't do this, but this isn't the way I am suppose to do this and here are the tools to help me do this. Maybe surrender is learning that community is the answer and that most things in life are meant to be done with connection and not isolation. Because most of my internal problems always stem from the skewed perception of reality that I should be doing something different. I often get lost in the sauce in terms of systemic things I feel powerless over, but there is that old recovery adage, "powerless, not helpless." I think of Angela Davis' quote that is a play on the serenity prayer, "I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept." So, where is the line? Where do step in and become rebellious to our nature? I curious to explore the themes of social justice meeting the integration of the 8 limbs of yoga. How do we use this practice to revolutionize our community to fight for what's right? That is what I always struggle with, what do I do with the things I can't surrender to?