One of the reasons dreams have fascinated people across so many cultures is because they rarely speak in straightforward language. Dreams tend to arrive in symbols. A house. A river. A staircase. A storm. An animal. A child. A doorway. Whhhhhat does this remind you of!? Any guesses? SHARE Below... My Peace in Rest Members you have a slight advantage here. These images often carry emotional truth, even when they don’t make logical sense. And that’s important, because not all truth arrives logically. Some truths are symbolic before they are verbal... Some truths are carried in image because the deeper mind is not trying to explain itself, fam... it is trying to reveal itself. Yoga Nidra often opens this symbolic layer. As the body enters a state of profound rest, awareness loosens from its usual mental habits. The mind becomes less literal. Inner imagery becomes more available. This is part of why guided imagery can be so powerful in the practice./ Imagery is communication. A lake, a cave, the moon, light moving through the body, a path through a forest. These are not simply... “nice visuals.” They speak to deeper structures in the psyche and nervous system. They offer the body something to organize around. Something safe, spacious, and resonant... some even activating or awakening. We do not need to over-interpret every symbol that arises! LET ME SAY THAT AGAIN! We do not need to over-interpret every symbol that arises! But we can learn to honour them. To notice what returns. To feel where an image lands in the body. Anyone curious where all this dream talk is leading!?

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.

It’s not often I share a Live Nova Nidra session on YouTube, and this one carried such a dreamy energy. Created as a space for us to come together in nourishing deep rest, this practice supports vitality, the release of stagnation, and a return to inner wisdom. If you’ve been craving a deeper connection to your dreams and intuition, let this be your gateway.

I just listened to the live YouTube broadcast. Such a wonderful Nidra. I am sharing this poem today since it is World Poetry Day and because it came to me in a dream. It kind of is a dream. No Apology The moon shines down, on the temple The temple of your heart. Waiting for the bus on a grimy night Decades away from here The number seven, driven by your shadow. Or is it the shadow of the number seven, driven by you? The electronic information board says it is decades away. Yet in one sigh of your breath, kissing the cold air, It is here. It arrives in a confused finale of smoke and grumbling apologies, Spitting out the commuters like a mouthful of unwanted fishbones. Fishbones making their way into the unashamed night. No apology needed. None given. You make your way to an unwanted seat. The only one. Next to the unwanted, dishevelled woman, and her unwanted child. The child looks accusingly at you. As if its very existence was always your fault. And you apologise for sitting down. No apology needed. The bus waits for all eternity before moving into the lightless night. Infinite numbers of souls arrive and depart, Yet no one moves. How could they? There is nowhere to go. All that is asked of you is to wait. Your destination has always been known, Although never revealed. Hold my hand. Hold hands with everyone who has ever loved you. And don’t apologise to them for loving you. This is your destination. Love. Love is your destination. No apology needed.

🚨Vulnerable Share Alert🚨 Lately I’ve been moving through something that has been bringing up a lot of old feelings in me. Over the past few weeks I’ve been doing some deeper parts work, and it’s opened up new realizations about my relationship with my family and how much of my life has quietly been shaped around other people. It’s been a heartbreaking thing to see clearly. Even as a 36-year-old woman, I can recognize how often I’ve been posturing my life around the needs, emotions, or expectations of others. Call it people-pleasing. Call it codependency. Call it mother wounds. Whatever the label, I’m starting to see the ways my upbringing influenced the trajectory of my life in ways I hadn’t fully acknowledged before. For a while I was in the blame stage. Feeling like a victim who had just been along for the ride. But over the last couple of weeks, something has shifted and I think I’m ready to move into the next part of the story. One of the hardest things I’ve had to accept recently is that my own mother may never be able to support me in the ways I’ve always hoped she would. And strangely… there has been a kind of freedom in that realization. Because the beautiful thing about being in a community like this one is that we are not limited to the wisdom of the family we were born into. There are so many people here who have walked similar thresholds before us. So I’m coming here honestly and vulnerably to ask: If you’ve navigated something similar (especially my fellow eldest daughters out there) I would love to hear from you. What helped you step out of the patterns you inherited? What helped you reclaim your own life? Any wisdom, reflections, or hard-won lessons… I’m very open to receiving right now. 🤍