Begin Again: The Radical Power of Returning

Back in 2020, La Presse journalist Ève Dumas described my teaching as slow, lasting, profound—and my personal favorite, almost anachronistic. 

In a world of swipes, scrolls, and instant everything, there's something beautifully rebellious about slowing down to dive deep.  

What could be more radical, in our age of acceleration, than practices that root us in presence? What could be more needed than spaces that allow us to recharge and remember what truly matters? 

If you've practiced with me, you've heard it again and again: one of yoga's greatest gifts is steadfastness—the willingness and wherewithal to keep showing up. Every breath, every class, every time you return to your mat or cushion—especially when life is messy, when grief or overwhelm feel heavy—fortifies the steady flame of your resilience. 

This isn't abstract philosophy. It's lived reality. When you return to practice after months away—whether from injury, caretaking, or loss—there's nothing to prove. No catching up required. All you need is to breathe, to soften, and remember that the body can still be a sanctuary. 

Simply being willing to begin again allows the practice to do its alchemy: clearing the residue of distraction and despair to reveal the unbreakable strength at your core.  

This is tapasya—not the flashy blaze that quickly dies out, but the steady fire that transforms you from within, fueling your healing and growth and anchoring you more firmly in your purpose. 

Our culture prizes quick fixes and dramatic transformations, but 30+ years of practice have taught me that yoga doesn't work as a quick fix. Its power builds over time to become a real fix: a fix for our disconnected, abstracted, screen-saturated lives; for navigating uncertainty with grace and clarity; for finding solace and solidarity in the midst of heartbreak. 

One of yoga's most precious offerings is the invitation to count on yourself—to return when you've drifted, to tend to your practice as a living relationship that unfolds and evolves over time.  

When life unravels, you don't necessarily need another technique—you need the steady foundation of what you've been slowly building over time. 

The cultural shift I'm nurturing is a return to this old-school rhythm: slow, steady, and lasting. An approach that transforms yoga from another item on our wellness checklist into a lifelong companion. One that meets us exactly where we are, every single time we begin again.