Yasodhara Blog – Yasodhara Ashram

Meeting Myself with Awareness: Reflections on a 3-Month Yoga Intensive

Katie — Wed, 16 Sep 2026 19:18:45 +0000

I often think about what Swami Sivananda Radha writes in Mantras: Words of Power, how during chanting an aspirant may feel an overwhelming sense of emotions:

“Tears may come that you have been holding back for many years… Sometimes the tears will be part regret and part joy – joy that the soul is at last on its way back home, regret that so many lifetimes have been wasted.”

I remember feeling this the very first time I came to the Ashram. Night after night in satsang, sitting in the grand space of the Temple, humming the mantra, I would feel tears cascade down my cheeks. I didn’t fully understand what was happening. But on my first evening of the Yoga Development Course, the Ashram’s three-month intensive program, I gained a better understanding of what Swami Radha meant.

On a cold winter evening, I entered the Temple of Light and saw the other course participants gathered. I felt an overwhelming sense of joy and relief. After years of waiting and wondering when the time would come, I was finally here. Not as a karma yogi, not as a visitor, but as a participant in the Yoga Development Course (YDC).

Going Inward and Yogic Discipline

Every morning during the course, I would make my way to Mandala House for two hours of Hidden Language Hatha Yoga, the snow underfoot and the Ashram all quiet. I could hear my footsteps along the boardwalk as I walked towards guided practice, and this became a real point of meditation for me.

Even now, almost five years later, whenever I return to the Ashram and walk along the boardwalk, I am taken back to those early winter mornings. I am reminded of the commitment and sense of discipline that the course demanded from me, but it also invited me to soften – to surrender to the rhythm and structure that were there to support my inner growth.

Those mornings in Hidden Language Hatha Yoga opened me to a new understanding of how my body and mind are connected. Swami Radhananda writes that “the body is a good place to start a spiritual practice because of its potential to change and show concrete results. By exploring the physical practice of Hatha Yoga, you begin to recognize the balance, strength and firmness in your body” (Living the Practice).

Starting my days with two hours of Hatha Yoga felt like a real gift. I was invited to listen deeply to my inner world and to challenge myself with new poses like the peacock feather, pincha mayurasana, which demanded effort and intensity from me. On other days, poses like tortoise, kurmasana, invited me to soften and retreat inward.

The combination of these poses helped me reconnect with my body, becoming more comfortable and at ease within it while discovering a sense of strength and capability I hadn’t always recognized in myself. Over time, this began to shift the way I saw my body – not as something to observe or judge, but as something capable and strong, a vessel through which I met the world.

Going Deeper with Yoga and Self

Before committing myself to the YDC, I had a sense I wanted to go deeper in my self-development, but I wasn’t sure what that might look like. I had participated in various retreat programs and yoga teacher trainings, but from meeting past YDC participants and spending time as a karma yogi at the Ashram, I knew the YDC was different from anything I had experienced before.

Spending three months in a spiritual community is a powerful experience, with time to practice, study, question and listen. Day after day, I was given the opportunity to pay attention – not only to the yogic teachings, but to what was happening within me.

The workshops opened up parts of myself that I didn’t even know were there. They brought patterns, fears, aspirations and emotions into my awareness that I had, unknowingly, been turning away from.

I began to learn how much of my desire to accomplish and plan for the future was connected to a longing for security and stability. I looked more closely at my relationship with my father and how my desire to care for him was intertwined with my own sense of responsibility, and was then reflected in my relationships with other male figures in my life.

These realizations were not always comfortable, but they gave me the opportunity to meet parts of myself with greater awareness through reflection, rather than simply avoiding them.

The YDC gave me space to encounter these parts of myself with curiosity and, somewhat surprisingly, with compassion. Rather than simply learning about yoga, I was being given opportunities to experience its teachings within my own life and to greet the power of choice that awaits.

“When we practice yoga, we begin to live with greater freedom of choice,” – Swami Lalitananda, Inner Life of Asanas

Spiritual Community and Support

During the Yoga Development Course, I lived alongside people who were asking themselves many of the same questions I was. We were each moving through our own experiences and trying to understand what it means to live a spiritual life – not just in meditation or study, but in the ordinary moments of living together.

There is something powerful about being witnessed in that process. The people around me became mirrors, sometimes reflecting qualities I admired and sometimes showing me parts of myself that I would rather not see. We learned from one another by practicing together and learning together, creating a sense of connection and community that supported each of us in our process.

Returning to Inner Work

I recently had a friend ask me if I would ever do the YDC again.

My immediate response was, “No!” I felt strangely protective of the experience I had already had, and I couldn’t imagine willingly stepping back into that same intensity. But as I’ve thought about the question, and as I’ve written about the experience for this blog, my answer has slowly shifted.

“Not now, but eventually.”

I imagine myself returning to the YDC at another turning point in my life. Perhaps when I am preparing to step into motherhood, beginning a new chapter of my career or simply feeling the need to pause and listen more deeply before deciding what comes next.

There may be seasons when I need that concentrated time and space again: to step back from the momentum of everyday life and dedicate myself to my personal growth in the sacred, nourishing space of the Ashram.

For now, I am carrying what that first YDC gave me: a deeper sense of devotion in my spiritual practice and a greater understanding of my inner world. The practices I learned during the YDC have become touchstones I can return to when I feel scattered or uncertain, helping me feel a deep sense of inner joy – joy of knowing that my soul has found the mantra and the sacred teachings of Swami Sivananda Radha.

Connection and Growth: A Hidden Language Reflection

Practice the Tree Pose, vriksasana. Observe silence as you take the position of the Tree. Reflect on the time and seasons in your life, your connection to the earth, the sky and the sun, and how you are sustained by life. For what purpose? Write down your reflections.*

As you reflect, consider what the Tree might reveal about your own journey of growth and becoming.

*Reflection from Inner Life of Asanas by Swami Lalitananda.

By Katie Taher.

Can Work Set You Free? Lessons from Karma Yoga

Katie — Fri, 14 Aug 2026 17:52:35 +0000

Like most people, I have spent much of my adult life working. Coming to the Ashram in July 2025 as part of the 2-month Karma Yoga Program was a brilliant opportunity to make space for witnessing my habitual ways at work.

Having spent 20 years working in an office environment, Karma Yoga became a space to engage with a different kind of work: tending to the garden, preserving fruit and vegetables, making salsas and jams, caring for common spaces. Through the practice of Karma Yoga, I tried to cultivate a sense of offering from the heart rather than focusing on productivity.

I noticed the way I related to responsibility in the corporate world was sneaking into my offerings. But the more I worked with my hands, connected to breath and body, the more I found a state of flow in my work. And as soon as I started offering Karma Yoga in the office, I noticed an old tendency of being in my head a lot.

Learning from the state of flow I experienced in the garden, focusing on my breath or taking a short walk now becomes an intentional practice of returning to my body, and a more balanced way of being.

“Work Can Set Me Free”

Upon completing the Yoga Development Course (YDC), I was offered a seasonal job at the Welcome Center. Initially, I felt so much resistance to the concept of working. I wanted to keep offering Karma Yoga and wasn’t ready to embody a sense of responsibility again. As if the chains I broke out of were being put back on.

In The Inner Life of Asanas, Swami Lalitananda writes:

“The Work is always there. Where there’s life, there’s action. The Bhagavad Gita says that how we do the action ties us down or sets us free. Do it with love, devotion and without attachment and we are involved in yoga… Knowing that work can set me free can change my attitude.”

Reflecting on these words and seeing the suffering I bring on myself when I perceive work in opposition to my personal or spiritual life, I now try to integrate rather than separate work and play, work and rest, work and reflection, office work and inner work.

Work as a Teacher

Looking back at my life, I see how work has been a prominent teacher for me. I’ve been giving so much of myself to my work and my professional development, and it paid off when the goal was to build a successful career.

Going through a significant life transition now, I’m spending more time exploring parts of myself that were abandoned in the process. I want to show up for myself, my friends and family, my community, my clients, from a different place. Rather than asking myself “Am I doing the right work?” I’m asking myself “How can I BE with the work in front of me in a way that is aligned with my ideals?”

Yogic Principles at Work

As I make my way through a list of post-YDC book reports, I reflect on the book Yamas and Niyamas by Deborah Adele. I ponder how I can live out ethical practices through work and broader life. I notice that the way I relate to responsibility takes me out of my center. I see an opportunity to ground. As I make space for my inner life, I become aware of my tendencies, e.g., a tendency to self-sacrifice.

I try to find ways to practice non-violence (ahimsa), which is often as simple as taking a short break. And when I’m feeling brave enough, I look deeper at what’s driving my high-achieving perfectionistic behaviour. I tend to much younger parts that still operate in survival mode, help them heal, update their beliefs.

As I practice truthfulness (satya), I approach myself with kindness and compassion. I know I can ask for help when things get rough, but can I accept support, practice non-stealing (asteya) by allowing others to step in, before I’m in a crisis?

“Helping, Fixing or Serving?”

I’m also exploring the attitude I bring to work. I really like the article “Helping, Fixing or Serving?” by Rachel Naomi Remen. When I first read it, I was thinking of my coaching clients but I can also see this affecting all areas of my life.

The author writes that “Helping, fixing and serving represent three different ways of seeing life. When you help, you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole.”

She discusses how the ways of fixing and helping can be draining, and potentially leading to burnout. Serving, however, is regarded as a renewing force that can help cultivate a deep sense of devotion and gratitude. This understanding of service connects to the spirit of Karma Yoga, the practice of selfless service here at the Ashram. The way we approach work allows it to become an offering from the heart and an ongoing spiritual practice.

I recognize that my corporate career started with wanting to help and fix problems. When I started transitioning to coaching, I became more open to serving. To see people as whole, to walk with them, to facilitate exploration of their challenges and trusting they can overcome those challenges and move towards realizing their potential.

Perhaps today when I carry too much responsibility, I’m still trying to fix. I end up pushing myself beyond my limits. Living and working at the Ashram, I am reminded of my higher purpose, of our shared responsibility, of compassion towards self and others.

Coming into a state of balance and integration with work seems to be a continuous practice for me; I hope that my newly developing relationship with myself and my work can set me free. Strengthening mind-body connection. Practicing discernment – knowing where to surrender and where to persevere.

Every day brings an opportunity to be set free by work. Whether I embrace it or not, the choice is mine.

Reflection Practice

Take an intentional break during your work day, whether it’s a job, work around the house or any other type of work. Sit in silence and follow the rhythm of your breath.

Ask yourself: What atmosphere do I want to create around myself and my work?

Write in your journal, including examples of how you can manifest your ideals through work.

By Yana

Finding Divine Mother Through Gardening and Yoga

Katie — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 17:21:12 +0000

I was running down a forest lined country road in the fall of 1980 when I first met God.

There was a strong feeling of a supportive Presence, a spiritual connection to something far greater than anything I had ever known before.

This was during a time of upheaval in my life — a fractured marriage, a six-month-old baby and a career that was in question. The familiar way of life was no longer. My home and security, as I knew it, was in jeopardy. I felt lost.

An opening was created inside my broken heart.

In an effort to get my feet on the ground and move through the confusion, I began jogging. Out in nature, I gradually let go of what I thought I knew. My senses were drawn to the beauty around me — the trees, freshly ploughed fields, wide sky and unexpected encounters with wildlife, slowly nurturing my soul.

Looking back, I can see that those runs marked the beginning of a relationship, not only with the Divine but with the natural world that became one of my greatest teachers.

Learning from the Land

Years later, I found myself taking weekly yoga classes and living on a farm — my life had turned around. It was Spring and with my foot on a shovel I was digging up and turning over the rich dark earth, heading into a new chapter of life. Pausing, listening to the birds chattering, I began planting seeds for my first vegetable garden. I felt inspired.

There was a strong Presence of the Divine that accompanied my quiet repetition of mantra as I pulled out deeply rooted weeds and tossed them into a pile beside me. I recognized the metaphor: here I was cleaning up my life, making a fresh start, committing to a daily yoga practice, running a business and seeking deeper meaning in my personal life.

Searching for Divine Mother

Back then, I attended Yoga classes offered by a Yasodhara Yoga teacher, Jeannie, at her house in Lakefield, Ontario, only 20 minutes from where I lived. She often referred to Divine Mother, which was an unfamiliar term for me.

Gradually, as I tended the farm garden, consciously bringing in all my sense perceptions as I worked, I began building awareness. Smelling the rich dark earth, watching the small green shoots of the first crop of peas poking through the ground, listening to the birds, suddenly it came to me: Mother Earth, Divine Mother, they were One and the same!

The combination of weekly classes, along with consistent daily yogic practices such as the Divine Light Invocation and Hidden Language Hatha Yoga became the foundation for my spiritual life. A precious relationship with my Inner Self, the wise one within was gradually unearthed.

Growing Through Written Reflection

My “desire to know” was supported with written reflections, which proved to be a valuable tool, revealing where I was at mentally, emotionally and spiritually, which brought an understanding of what personality aspects needed to shift or belet go of. They had served in the past but were no longer helpful.

Having become what I thought was independent, growing awareness allowed me to see that it was pride that had to move aside, so that I could reach out and ask for Divine Mother’s help and support. This ‘pride demon’ had blocked my connection to Her — it was like a pest in the garden that needed to be addressed.

In her book Living the Practice, Swami Radhananda writes:

“You have to put effort into knowing yourself. The Self is a pearl of great price, a precious treasure that is not easily accessible… Real growth demands that we go beyond the comfortable as familiar patterns block the way for new perceptions.”

Through commitment to the practices, negative rehashing thoughts could be elevated by chanting mantra. The Om Tara Mantra had come to me, seemingly of its own accord, naturally falling in beside me, fitting into rhythm with my footsteps when I was walking. This mantra became a companion on the Path, it resonated and connected me to the Goddess of Compassion. Gradually long-held concerns and fears were loosened.

Working in the garden and being on a journey of self-development go hand in hand. Following the cycles of nature: tending the soil, planting seeds, nurturing and caring for the new shoots as they mature, then harvesting in rhythm with the seasons, is a commitment — as is spiritual growth.

Preserving fruits and vegetables requires discernment. Sorting the produce, removing bruises or blemishes, sending the best ones to the kitchen to be used for fresh eating while transforming the ‘seconds’ to be preserved for winter fare is all part of the daily routine. Similarly, daily reflection and spiritual practices became part of my daily routine.

Gratitude, Reciprocity and the Ashram Garden

The Ashram Garden is tended by the many helping hands of karma yogis — a variety of people offering selfless service, simply doing what needs to be done while inviting in spiritual practice. The care and attention to the irrigation and amendments added to the soil are all ways of giving back to Mother Earth with gratitude.

Often after a harvest, a cover crop is planted which will be ploughed under later to enrich the soil the following year. Meals in the dining room are generally preceded with individual prayers — gratefully acknowledging how Divine Mother’s generosity supplies much of our nourishment, on all levels, day in and day out, year-round.

The garden is a place of reciprocity, giving rich compost, collected primarily from kitchen scraps and chicken manure, back to the earth, replenishing and nourishing the soil. This earth becomes the foundation for numerous tiny seedlings, lovingly started in the little “nursery” green house, gradually relocated outside and planted with careful attention to spacing and depth.

Watching the garden transform is a metaphor for observing the process of my own personal growth, made visible through the lens of daily reflection.

Looking back, I can see that what began on a forest road continued quietly in the garden. The same Presence that met me in a moment of loss seemed to meet me again in the rhythm of daily service — in soil, in practice and in the small acts of care that make up a life.

Reflection opens the door to receive the Light, the Light of understanding, for oneself and others. When understanding deepens, a natural desire to offer back emerges prompting selfless service, contributing to “the good of all” and the generous cycle continues.

Reflection Practice

Spend a few moments outdoors, perhaps in your garden, a local park or beneath a tree. Notice what draws your attention. Then, ask yourself: What nourishes me?

Write down your reflections. Notice what arises, and consider how the natural world may be inviting you into greater awareness, gratitude or growth.

By Durga.

Holding Grief with Grace and Compassion

Katie — Wed, 17 Jun 2026 19:48:42 +0000

In this episode of Ask a Swami, Swami Padmananda reflects on the lessons of grief and how spiritual practice can help us meet sorrow with compassion, presence and courage.

Whether you’re navigating a recent loss or carrying grief from years past, this conversation offers thoughtful insights into living with grief while remaining open to love, connection and meaning.

This episode can be streamed on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeart Radio, Amazon Music or YouTube.

Awareness Through the Seven Cakras: Reflections on Kundalini Yoga

Katie — Fri, 12 Jun 2026 18:34:12 +0000

When I first read Swami Radha’s Kundalini Yoga for the West, a foundational text within the Ashram teachings, I became fascinated by a quote introduced in the very first pages of the book:

“From being a sleepwalker, a hypnotized or conditioned person, you gradually become a person who is aware.”

At the time, I found myself returning to this sentence repeatedly. What did it mean to be a sleepwalker? What was I meant to become aware of, and how?

Over the following weeks, through Kundalini workshops and conversations with teachers at the Ashram, the question began to unfold for me. Awareness, I slowly realized, was not only about observing my external world, but also about learning to notice the patterns moving through my inner thoughts, emotions and reactions.

This is the purpose of Kundalini Yoga: to investigate the ideas and habits I have accepted blindly and without question. The Kundalini System offers a practical guide for developing self-awareness through reflection, spiritual practice and the exploration of the cakras, each associated with specific questions, practices and symbols for developing greater self-understanding.

Benefits of Reflection and Kundalini Yoga in the Modern World

Swami Radha writes, “Whatever the lifestyle, one seems to move too fast to digest the experiences that take place during each day… The natural life rhythm simply cannot absorb the constant impact of news, television and urban living, combined with the many power struggles that are outside the domain of an individual’s control.”

This brings to mind that same image of a sleepwalker – moving through the world with little awareness of what is being experienced or felt. When life becomes full of demands and pressures, it can become easy to fall into a kind of automatic living, responding rather than reflecting.

In my own life, I notice this most when I’m stretched by work and the troubles of the world – a sense of urgency and apathy fill my days as I feel incapable of holding meaningful conversations or processing all that is happening around me.

In a world that encourages constant movement and productivity, practices of self-observation can feel out of place. Kundalini Yoga encourages self-reflection and a deliberate noticing of what is happening within my mental and emotional experience.

Rather than moving automatically through states of thought or feeling, there is an invitation to pause and register these shifts as they arise.

Psychological and neuroscientific research increasingly supports the value of reflection, suggesting that reflective practices can positively influence emotional regulation and even patterns of neural activity. Studies on mindfulness-based self-reflection, for example, have linked reflective practice to increased empathy, resilience and emotional awareness.*

I’ve experienced this in simple ways myself: how a short moment of written reflection can help ease my racing mind. A simple question, “What’s happening now?”, has the potential to bring me
into a calmer state, where I’m no longer rushing but actually observing the interactions and happenings that might have brought me discomfort or anxiety.

The Seven Cakras and Self-Awareness

Within the Kundalini System, each cakra is associated with one of the senses, which signals the importance of perception itself as a site of inquiry.

Rather than treating the senses as passive receivers of information, the Kundalini System positions them as important components in shaping emotional reactions and habitual patterns. It also offers specific practices that help refine the senses, through which we can become attuned to the immense power the senses have in influencing our moods.

Paying attention to these subtle shifts has made me more aware of how deeply sensory experience shapes my emotional and mental states.

Since first seeing the cakra plates at the Ashram, the fifth cakra – the Viśuddha –has been the one I’ve felt most drawn to, with its blue colour and inverted triangle.

Known as the “gateway of liberation”, the fifth cakra (sometimes called referred to as the throat cakra) is associated with the sense of hearing. Since working more with questions from the Kundalini System, I’ve been noticing how much my sense of hearing affects my mood. On mornings when I immediately reach for my phone and fill my day with beeping notifications, news clips and phone calls, the rest of my day often carries a sense of mental urgency.

On mornings when I remember to open my window and get to hear the birds outside, listen to mantra music or simply sit quietly, I notice a greater sense of spaciousness and presence.

The Fifth Cakra and the Sense of Hearing

To me, the fifth cakra points toward a further refinement of awareness, where perception becomes less reactive and more attentive. It becomes a practice of discernment: learning when to respond, when to pause and when to simply listen without immediately interpreting or reacting.

Over time, this kind of listening begins to soften the sense of fragmentation that can come from constant stimulation. Reflection and awareness of sound have helped me notice subtle shifts in my inner state and return more easily to a sense of presence when I feel scattered.

“As we cultivate the senses and refine the mind, we are able to see the patterns of the intangible in our actions and speech, the interconnections of the senses and the Light.” – Swami Radhananda, Living the Practice

A Reflection Practice for the Fifth Cakra

Swami Radha offers a simple exercise connected to the sense of hearing: “Listening to a variety of music, carefully selected, preferably with earphones and in a reclining position, will tell you by your emotional responses to the music where you are.”

Begin by choosing two different types of music.
Sit or lie down comfortably while listening.
Notice how each piece of music affects your mood, thoughts and body.
Write down all of your observations.

Questions for further reflection:

How did each piece of music affect your emotions?
Did certain sounds create tension, calm or distraction?
What did you notice about your inner reactions?

Through practices like these, the fifth cakra becomes less of an abstract symbol and more an invitation into conscious observation in daily life.

*Mösler, Thomas et al. “Reflective Skills, Empathy, Wellbeing, and Resilience in Cognitive-Behavior Therapy Trainees Participating in Mindfulness-Based Self-Practice/Self-Reflection.” Psychological reports vol. 126,6 (2023): 2648-2668.

By Katie Taher.

What does it Mean to Live at an Ashram?

Katie — Sun, 17 May 2026 19:34:47 +0000

In this episode of Ask A Swami, Swami Jyotihananda reflects on life in spiritual community and shares her hopes for the future of Yasodhara Ashram.

Drawing on her experience with Swami Radha and the many stages of Ashram life over the years, Swami Jyotihananda offers insights into commitment, connection across generations and the deeper value of living in community.

This episode can be streamed on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeart Radio, Amazon Music or YouTube.

Explorations on Love As a Way of Being in the World

Nicole — Mon, 11 May 2026 16:25:01 +0000

At the time of writing this blog, the Ashram’s three-month Yoga Development Course (YDC) has just come to completion. Many of the course participants are transitioning back to families, jobs and environments that are busy with the day-to-day challenges of living in the everyday world.

In the last part of the course, questions were coming up about the transition—”how do I bring all I have gained from my time at the Ashram back into the world—the inner joy, peace of mind, the experience of calm that I’ve had here, and all that’s been revealed about my true nature as old stories and attachments drop away? How do I keep centered as I re-enter a challenging world? How do I convey what I’ve experienced these past three months to my friends and family?”

Having been through the YDC many times myself, both as a participant and as a teacher, I’ve come to understand that it’s a way of being that speaks about the changes that have happened, more than words could ever convey.

Ideas of Love in Spiritual Life

What is this way of being that is often recognized more in others than we can recognize it in ourselves? For me, it is connected to love.

There are so many ideas of what love is in our world, but what is it really?

There is something about ‘it’ that becomes visible and touches my heart when I see it in action—someone responds with kindness instead of reacting with anger…. is patient instead of being irritated….. is calm in situations that are tense…. is listening from a place of wanting to understand instead of having their views or opinions heard.

It is in the moments I see myself responding with kindness, patience or calmness where I would have reacted negatively—that I recognize something else is at work. A release has happened where I’ve been holding on, I’ve become receptive and more present to what is happening. I have a choice of how to respond.

My teacher, Swami Radha, made a distinction between love with attachment and love without attachment—which she called ‘unconditional love’.

“When we have become compassionate, when we can love without expecting anything in return, we have become truly human” (Light and Vibration).

To follow the path of yoga, truly and deeply, involves getting to the root of all that we are attached to. I’ve heard this path described as not for the ‘faint-hearted’. It takes the kind of strength that involves courage—which in the original sense of the Latin cor, means connecting with an inner strength to bring forward heartfelt action.

Ancient Teachings of the Bhagavad Gita

For many years, an ancient text from the East, the Bhagavad Gita, has been part of my life.

It is a dialogue that takes place in the heart between Krishna, symbolizing the Divine Self, and Arjuna, symbolizing the human self. Its setting is the middle of a battlefield, between opposing forces of dark and light.

Recently, I’ve been bringing some Gita verses to my work each day, from a discourse called “The Way of Love”. The words are a reminder of a way of being that I want to keep cultivating within myself. Krishna says to Arjuna:

“That one I love who is incapable of ill will,
who is friendly and compassionate,
living beyond the reach of ‘I’ and ‘mine’
and of pleasure and pain. Patient, contented, self-controlled,
firm in faith, with all their heart and all their mind given to me
with such as these I am in love” (12:13/14)*.

Our world today is one of opposing forces—which can often become overwhelming and confusing. Like Arjuna, we may sink into despair, asking ourselves: “What can overcome a sorrow that saps all my vitality? Even power over men and gods or the wealth of an empire seem empty.” (2:7/8).

Krishna’s response to Arjuna (in the 18 discourses of the Bhagavad Gita) is as relevant today as it was thousands of years ago when this scripture from the East was first recorded.

“This despair and weakness in a time of crisis are mean and unworthy of you, Arjuna… It does not become you to yield to this weakness. Arise with a brave heart and destroy the enemy.”(2:2/3).

Krishna begins to lead Arjuna on a journey that reveals the real enemy he must destroy is within himself. He calls on Arjuna to remember who he is and that he has the strength within to face whatever he is most attached to in his life—his physical self, his family, friends, possessions, pride, ideas of what is right and wrong—and ways of being that no longer serve him.

Opening the Heart to Light

By bringing the words of sacred texts into my life, through my practices and reflections, they come to life. When I find myself caught in negative emotions, the inner space created by my practices helps me hear another voice—one that is calling me to see what is happening from another perspective.

Being with my teacher, Swami Radha, was an experience that opened my heart to a new perspective and understanding of what love is—one that continues to grow and expand through my commitment to my spiritual path and through the desire to give back to life from a place of love. It has given me a way of being in the world that connects to my Heart.

“The path of the Heart is the path of Light,
the Light of love and the Light of understanding.
Nothing is more important.”
(Light and Vibration, Swami Radha)

*Eknath, Easwaran. The Bhagavad Gita. 2nd ed. Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 2007.

By Swami Satyananda

What Grace Looks Like When Everything Changes

Nicole — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 16:37:00 +0000

This morning, the first chevrons of geese arrive from southern skies, their calls evoking both longing and comfort in me. Sap rises in the maple trees around my home, boils on a small outdoor fire, the steam off the pans, sweetening the air. Every spring, when I tap the maples and sap pours out, I experience bliss.

Harvesting sap water and tending the fires that transform thin, clear liquid into golden syrup is a labour of love, with each litre of syrup requiring approximately 40 litres of sap to produce. It’s also a seasonal ritual that enlivens my felt-connection to the sacred, the energy I call Divine and could alternately call Spring or Maple Tree.

My most reliable pathways of connection are through the more-than-human world, but they are not the only ways. Others include ceremony, reading and reflecting on sacred texts and the events of daily life, community practices, Mantra Yoga, listening and Dream Yoga.

Sometimes, I get hung up on which practices to focus on at which time, but over the last few days, a throughline I had not seen before stood out. The centrality of relationship is common to all the ways. By that I mean a mutual process of attention, response and influence. A sense of mattering to ‘each other’, whether inwardly or outwardly seems essential along my path to the Divine.

Another experience which is alive for me this season is navigating terrains of loss – the loss of my dad in December, my cat Lou in February, and my cat Hazel earlier in the year, all primary relationships. I’m currently in the process of saying goodbye to a job, one that I had wanted and sought for a long time and have only been working at for a little over a year.

So I’m investigating these together: my relationship with the Divine and navigating territories of loss.

Navigating Loss with the Divine

My initial instinct in the face of endings tends to be tension – contraction connected to the concept that loss is something happening to me, and resistance to the uncomfortable sensations that inevitably arise and that are part of grief. For me these include sorrow, anger and a sense of vulnerability in my physical, emotional, nervous system body.

My dad’s dying time was accelerated by a fall. He lived in Winnipeg. I live in western Quebec. After he fell and before I knew that he was dying, I questioned whether or not to travel to my hometown. I was having a hard time getting clear information from my mom, my dad and staff at the hospital with which to decide. Then, within days of my dad’s fall, my employer let me know that they had yet to find more funding for my position and I would be laid off at the end of March.

There was a period after receiving this news when this constellation of challenges felt like too much. There was fear related to the lost income and discomfort from being with uncertainty – what was happening with my dad, where would my income come from, would I have enough?

Tracking the Divine

In the Devi of Speech book, Swami Radhananda writes: The mystery is to see Her in action, to recognize Her in the world and in yourself.

Aren’t these situations then, Her? And if I react in my habitual ways, isn’t that like closing the door on the Divine?

Five days after my dad’s fall, I experienced clarity to go to Winnipeg. Soon after, I noticed more space inside myself, less tension, and gratitude for the clarity, which liberated energy and direction to act. I wanted to be on the first flight the next morning.

I put out a call for cat care, something I would need to be able to leave. Within 15 minutes two friends stepped forward to help. The same evening, two other friends, separately, and who had no idea what was happening in my life, texted me about jobs postings they thought I might be interested in.

When these things happened, it became harder to describe what I was experiencing as challenges. The challenges it seemed to me, came when I closed the door, when I reacted in a way that rejected what was happening, which seems to me like rejecting Her, the One with whom I want to maintain relationship. The way the events of this evening played out felt like grace.

Offering as Divine Mother

In Swami Radha’s teachings, the act of offering is central. The Divine Mother Prayer, which is also a mantra, is about affirming that everything I do is worship of Divine Mother, that every natural function and action is a form of worship. It is a continuous offering.

My offerings are not continuous. Despite many years of practice and an aspiration to become more fluid, it takes me time and practices to remember my ideals, to narrow the incongruencies, to become aware and interested in what is emerging, to seek and restore the relationship in myriad forms and formlessness.

Previously, I understood offering as my unique role in relation to the Divine, the Light that links all beings. But things have shifted, and the way I see it now is more collaborative. The Divine is always offering to me. Sometimes she delivers bliss, sometimes sustenance and sometimes ends creations I think of as integral to my world. Keeping the door open is one way I can offer in response.

-Robin MacDonald

Being a Disciple and Understanding Devotion

Katie — Thu, 09 Apr 2026 17:47:48 +0000

In this episode of Ask A Swami, Swami Lalitananda reflects on what it means to walk the path as a disciple and the role that devotion plays in spiritual life.

Drawing from her experience as Swami Radha’s disciple, she shares insights into trust, discipline and the deep heart-longing that keeps one grounded on a chosen spiritual path.

This episode can be streamed on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeart Radio, Amazon Music or YouTube.

The Yoga of Transitions: Accepting Change and Uncertainty through Asanas

Nicole — Wed, 25 Mar 2026 18:34:44 +0000

There are moments when I find myself between what was once familiar and what has not yet taken form. In this space, expectations fill me up as I try to make sense of what has happened, what is coming and how I want to meet the new.

That’s how the coming of spring feels, with its promise of warmth and renewal, yet still carrying the chill of winter. When will spring arrive and who will I become? Who will I have to say goodbye to and who will say hello?

The wider world seems to be holding a similar tension of the unknown. News headlines arrive, with uncertainty and news of suffering, stories still unfolding, outcomes not clear. It is a season of subtle tension, when my world seems to hover between endings and new beginnings.

I’ve noticed a similar rhythm on my yoga mat as I move through surya namaskar, the Sun Salutation, met by a challenge I have a hard time naming. It isn’t always the postures that challenge me, but the transitions – the brief moments when one pose has not yet released and the next has not yet fully arrived. Like when I hover in plank before lowering to my belly, or reach my arms up before standing in tadasana, the Mountain pose.

These in-between moments require a willingness from me to be present and let the new arise, to greet change, even though leaving something behind feels tender.

Resistance to Change: Opening to Possibility

“Even ordinary changes in life are often resisted because of the uncertainty of the unknown. When the unknown is encountered, the intellect, together with the emotions, puts up a struggle to eliminate it or explain it away.” Swami Radha

Resistance arises in moments of transition. Muscles tense up, mind clings to the familiar, the little voice that says “not this!”. Who is it that’s speaking? What part of me resists change and discomfort?

It’s a part of me that’s trying to keep up with the changes around me, holding on to what feels safe and pushing back against the uncertainty of the next moment. And yet, even in that hesitation, there is an opening – a space where curiosity begins to stir.

Swami Radhananda’s words offer some guidance: “In the clearing of the mind, we connect with some inner wisdom and can let go of resistance, which opens us to possibility.”

So, I focus on my breath, close my eyes and acknowledge the hesitancy, inviting the breath to guide me through. As I soften into the exhales, I feel a sense of opening in my mind. Paying attention to my breath helps me accept the in-between and to look forward to the change that’s coming.

Namaste to the Past: Accepting Change with Gratitude

In an attempt to embrace change and transition in what feels to be an ever-changing world, I practice Namaste to the Past, or parsvottanasana. I start in Mountain pose and bring my hands together behind my back. I feel an opening in my shoulders and chest, a sense of bravery and confidence fills me.

I step forward with my right leg and begin to lean forward, in gratitude. My hands remain together behind me – a quiet acknowledgement of where I’ve come from and who I’ve been.

With each breath I am reminded: the past has shaped me, and spring lingers around the corner with the promise of renewal and blossoming. I still cling to the familiarity of the past and feel intimidated by the unknown. There is fear that the new season will bring changes I’m not ready for.

Yet, my feet are steady on the ground, a firm foundation that supports me in the pose. Slowly, I lift my upper body to standing and step my left foot to meet my right, stepping into the new. The transitions in this pose sing like a song: a melody of letting go, a harmony of gratitude and a gentle rhythm of courage.

Foundation and Stability During Life Transitions

This transition shows me that as long as I have a strong foundation, I will be able to step forward and greet what awaits me. But what is the foundation that supports me in times of challenge and change?

Lately, I turn to two powerful anchors: my breath and community. From this place, facing transitions becomes less about resistance and more about acceptance -knowing that change is a natural rhythm of life, not a threat.

Swami Radha offers a helpful reminder:

“You have to learn to accept the good and the bad, just as you do with the weather. Can you change the weather? The weather is a marvelous lesson. You can complain about how cold it is, how rainy it is, how it’s this, that and the other. But you can’t change it. So it’s better that you fit yourself into the weather and take as little notice of it as possible: “Well, it’s raining today. So what? It has to rain. Otherwise nothing grows.””

Following her wisdom, I try to accept the good and the bad, both in the news and in my daily life. I remember that I can’t control what happens in the world, just my part in it. So, I lean into my breath and the support of loved ones as I step toward a new spring, with gratitude for this life.

A Simple Yoga Practice for Navigating Change. Practice parsvottanasana and ask yourself: What is my foundation? How do I greet change in my life now?

-Katie Taher

Yasodhara Blog – Yasodhara Ashram

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Finding Divine Mother Through Gardening and Yoga

Holding Grief with Grace and Compassion

Awareness Through the Seven Cakras: Reflections on Kundalini Yoga

What does it Mean to Live at an Ashram? ​

Explorations on Love As a Way of Being in the World

What Grace Looks Like When Everything Changes

Being a Disciple and Understanding Devotion

The Yoga of Transitions: Accepting Change and Uncertainty through Asanas

What does it Mean to Live at an Ashram?