When most people hear the word dreaming, they think of what happens at night. The strange images, the emotional fragments, the stories the mind makes while the body is asleep. But dreaming begins much earlier than that. The mind is always weaving. In waking life, it weaves memory, emotion, sensation, and anticipation. At night, that weaving becomes more visible. What lives beneath the surface begins to speak in image, symbol, feeling, and movement. This is part of why Yoga Nidra can feel so mysterious to people at first. You may not be fully asleep, and yet something in you is moving through a dreamlike space. You may still hear the voice guiding you, and yet your body feels far away. You may leave the practice with an image, a colour, a sensation, or a feeling you can’t quite explain. That doesn’t mean you “drifted off” or did it wrong. It means you entered a different layer of awareness. Yoga Nidra lives in that threshold space. Not fully awake or fully sleeping... It's a bridge. And the threshold matters because this is where the thinking mind loosens its grip. It stops organizing everything into a linear sense and becomes more receptive or abstract. This is one reason dreams can feel so important after a period of deep rest. When the nervous system is under constant strain, we often lose contact with these subtler layers. We sleep, but not always deeply. We dream, but don’t remember or wake carrying tension instead of insight. Yoga Nidra helps restore the conditions for dreaming to become more vivid, more coherent, and more meaningful by supporting the body in feeling safe enough to enter rest more fully. And dreaming, in this way, is not just about what happens at night. It’s also about imagination. Inner vision.The symbolic language of the deeper self. So when we speak of dreaming with Yoga Nidra, we’re not only speaking about nighttime dreams. We’re speaking about learning how to listen when the surface mind quiets and something deeper begins to speak.

@Ayla Nova i hope to join tomorrow for the New moon - it is 3am for me so I will leave it to my body to wake or not. 🌑💚 thank you for holding the space for us all. Photo of the sunflowers on my kitchen table And one of the two cord cutting rituals I have done this week 🌳💕

This will be the final yoga nidra in the astrological archetype series… Pisces! It has me wondering... Who here is a Pisces?!

over the next seven days, I’m going to be taking some time to rest & restore and would love your insights, but first, a little update. i was invited, somewhat last minute, to guide a yoga nidra practice at a beautiful women’s retreat. with everything moving through my heart lately, it felt like A FULL-BODY soul-aligned ‘YES’. while i’m there, i’ll be turning inward. listening. gathering inspiration. allowing space for what wants to emerge next for this community and beyond. you may not hear from me quite as much over the next few days. and i trust you. this space continues because you continue. in the meantime, i gently suggest revisiting the seven-day REST & RESTORE chakra series. move through it slowly. choose the one that calls to you. or begin again from the root and journey upward. and here’s something i’d love to invite… If you were to attend a retreat designed exactly for you… what would it include? more silence? nature walks? deep conversation? long yoga nidras? nervous system workshops? journaling by candlelight? share with me below. i’m listening 😉😉 Connect with you all again soon!

There’s a little agricultural folklore around March. In like a lamb, out like a lion. Or In like a lion, out like a lamb. Lion: stormy, windy, cold. Lamb: warm, gentle, mild. (also SO cute) As a rural farm girl growing up… this mattered to my family. Farming is highly intuitive. 🌱☀️⛈️ 🌾 I was always in awe of how my father and grandfather would read the almanacs and lean on their internal nudges. We lived on the barren prairies. You could see the weather coming for days. Haha. Or watch your dog run away for days. Haha. I remember mornings when my father would shift his entire day based on the colour of the sunrise sky. It was this knowing of the land, of what moved through the air and across the horizon, that captivated me. A bit of a sidebar, but the sky shaped me. I have a theory about prairie folk. I’ll share that another time. Back on topic. There were times they made the “wrong” call. And it was often followed by, “I knew I should have…” What I’ve noticed over the years is this is usually how we feel about the decisions we later question. We saw the sign. We felt the nudge. And we went against it. That, too, is part of life. If we got it all right, that would be kind of boring, right? Can I get an amen? Rejection is redirection. Through the lens of non-dual philosophy, which informs how I teach Yoga Nidra, there isn’t right or wrong. There is only what is. So as March moves in like a lamb, I’m taking this gentle energy to tend my internal soil. My heart is mending. Eclipse season feels like a time to observe the compost. To re-up life. Reorganize. Rest. Restore. Replenish. Reiterate. Redefine. Realign. You get where I’m going. So I’m asking, and inviting you to ask too: What richness has come from my wounds? What have my fears taught me? What part did I play in my pain? How can I take the compost, the garbage, the BS, and turn it into nutrient-dense soil so that when I plant spring seeds and give them what needs to be seen, they can weather the inevitable storms?