28/07/2026
I’ve tried on a lot of identities in this lifetime.
The one trying, like all of us, to make meaning of this strange and beautiful experience of being human.
And labels have never really suited me.
Even the ones I’ve chosen for myself.
Today I sat with an old friend I hadn’t seen in 18 months. We had both lived through difficult chapters that, for a time, pulled us apart. And somewhere in the softness of being together again, we spoke about God.
I told her there were moments I thought I had moved far away from God.
But looking back now… I realise I never did.
Perhaps we never can.
Because maybe God was never confined to the places we were taught to look.
Maybe God is in the ocean, the trees, the body, the stranger who says exactly what your heart needed to hear.
In synchronicities that make you laugh.
In integrity when no one is watching.
In forgiveness.
In awe.
In the quiet peace of living in alignment with who you really are.
My Christian walk taught me many things, but two that remain non-negotiable: relationship and peace.
These days, I’m less interested in naming God, and more interested in relationship with the mystery itself.
Because no one thing is it.
No word can hold it. No tradition can own it. No single doorway can contain something infinite.
And yet there are so many doorways.
Prayer. Nature. Music. Silence. Love.
And sometimes… a candlelit room and a yoga mat.
I even struggle with what to call the classes I teach.
“Ta**ra Yin” is just a pointer.
We slow down. We stay. We meet sensation. We learn that intensity doesn’t always mean escape — and that wisdom is also knowing when to soften.
We meet the small fires on the mat, so we can meet the bigger ones in life with more presence.
And underneath it all, it’s simple:
A candlelit room.
Beautiful music.
Stillness.
Breath.
A place to stop performing life and actually inhabit it.
A space to meet your own heart.
And me, nearby, probably getting too excited about the playlist. 😇
You don’t need yoga to find God.
You don’t need me.
You can find that place in the trees, the ocean, a song, a prayer, a kitchen dance, a held hand.
But I do believe that when we get quiet enough…
we touch something.
Ancient. Tender. Familiar.
Something that feels like coming home.
Closer to ourselves.
Closer to God.
Closer to this wild privilege of being alive.
So… after all of that…
Come to Yin tonight!! 😂
I really love teaching it.
There’s space in the candlelight tonight, and you can bring a friend for free.
Come exactly as you are.
We’ll breathe. Move. Be still. Listen.
And maybe remember something we already knew.
Immense love,
Av xx
