What Is Sadhana? Building a Practice That Fits Your Real Life
You start a practice with real devotion. For a week or two, it feels wonderful. Then life happens. The problem is almost never willpower. The problem is design.
Two small gatherings in Hemet this season, and a quieter way to give a gift.
Every December I watch people I love rush straight through the season they say they want to enjoy. The shopping, the parties, the travel, the list that keeps growing in the notes app. By the time the holidays actually arrive, everyone is too tired to feel them.
I do it too. I know better, I teach this, and I still find myself on December 23rd wondering where the month went.
So for the last few years I’ve made a habit of building two small pauses into the season: one evening before the holidays, and one afternoon at the very start of the new year. They’ve become two of my favorite things I teach. This year they’re at House of Mystics in Hemet, and I wanted to share what they are and why I keep making them.
Om For The Holidays is one slow evening on Sunday, December 13, from 5:00 to 7:30pm. It has three parts, and none of them involve getting anything right.
First, we paint. Everyone makes a small set of watercolor holiday cards for the people they love: little birds, ornaments, a few loose brushstrokes of gold. No art experience needed. I guide every step, and all paints and paper are provided. Loose and imperfect is exactly the point. A card you painted yourself will mean more to someone than anything you could buy.
Then we play. Everyone brings one wrapped ornament, about $10, and we do an exchange: draw numbers, open them one at a time, keep yours or steal one. In past years it’s been favorite things and holiday mugs. This year it’s ornaments, so everyone goes home with a new piece of the season for their tree.
And then we rest. The evening closes with a candlelit sound bath. You lie down on a mat with bolsters and blankets, and let the sound wash through while the season settles in you. There is nothing to do and nothing to fix.
You leave softer than you came, with your holiday cards already made.
Most resolutions are made in a rush and gone by February. I’ve stopped making them. Instead, I start every year with an intention, and on New Year’s Day I’d love to do that with you.
In yoga nidra, an intention is called a sankalpa: a short, heartfelt statement of what matters most to you, said as if it is already true. The difference from a resolution is where it comes from. A resolution usually starts with what you think is wrong with you. A sankalpa starts with what you value.
We’ll spend two quiet hours together. We’ll reflect on the year you actually lived, with some guided journaling. We’ll write down what you’re ready to leave behind and watch it dissolve in water. We’ll find your sankalpa together. And then we’ll rest in a long yoga nidra by candlelight, where that intention gets planted beneath the busy mind. You’ll take it home on a card for your mirror or your desk.
Some of the people we love most are the ones who never stop. If that’s who you’re shopping for, my holiday gift sale runs through December 1. The Gift of Rest is a private session of yoga nidra and sound, and A Month of Practice is four weekly private sessions shaped around them. Each comes with a printable gift card, and they can book whenever they’re ready.
There are also session packs if the person who needs a break is you. And 10% of every sale goes to Y12SR, the Yoga of 12-Step Recovery.
However you spend the next few weeks, I hope you find at least one evening that belongs to you. If it’s one of these, I’ll have the candles lit.
You start a practice with real devotion. For a week or two, it feels wonderful. Then life happens. The problem is almost never willpower. The problem is design.
Yesterday, my son started talking to me while I was on my laptop, and I closed it. That's the whole moment.
Around four o'clock most afternoons, my body gets ready to leave for a studio that isn't there anymore.
Two small gatherings at House of Mystics, 8 spots each.