Downdog

10/05/2026

Maybe we should try new wings
To escape the entanglement
Of our wounded souls.

🪶

10/04/2026

At ChangeNOW, I attended a panel with Nemonte Nenquimo and Chief Tapi Yawalapiti.

I expected to be in awe of her.
And I was.

But what stayed with me was someone else.

The woman sitting to her left.

Her interpreter.

—

Years ago—decades, actually—on my first trip to Mexico, I learned about La Malinche.

An Indigenous woman who stood between two worlds.
Interpreter. Mediator. Bridge.

Some call her a traitor.
Others, the mother of a nation.

I remember being fascinated by that paradox.
I was still a teenager, and it hadn’t yet occurred to me that a person could be both at once.

—

And sitting there at ChangeNOW, I felt that same kind of awe again.

Watching the interpreter navigate the space between languages so gracefully—
owning each word, almost like a mother owns a child,
knowing the real test is how you let it go into the world.

She translated everything with precision.
But also with feeling.

Not too much. Not too little.
Just enough to carry the weight of the message.

She was magnificent.

—

It made me realise something simple.

We often think impact belongs to those on stage.

But they rarely stand there alone.

Change also belongs to those who stand in between.
Who carry meaning.
Who make understanding possible.

The modern-day Malinches.

—

I tried to find her name, but couldn’t.

So if you know her—please tell her this:

She reminded me why this work matters.

Because we are nothing but words without meaning
if we stop relating to each other.

🌟

Thanks for putting together this amazing event

19/02/2026

Had the most fantastic post-yoga conversation with Lynn Corten at this morning.

We wandered from female entrepreneurship straight into the woods of authenticity, two topics I find myself thinking about a lot these days.

When I started freelancing straight out of , no one talked about mindset or impact. I didn’t see myself as an “entrepreneur.” I just needed a VAT number to do good work and to be captain of my own ship: my time, my mind, my agenda.

Back then, self-employment wasn’t wrapped in the existential quilt it wears today.

Social media was fun. It offered a window into my little shop. Loving travel, books, and yoga wasn’t branding, it was a convenient way of reminding my clients that however ‘corporate’ they wanted me to be, they’d always find it hard to switch off my creative urge to make my efforts sound or feel ‘special’.

Then Covid happened.

Authenticity gradually became performative. The more we shared, the more it felt diluted.

So here’s where I stand now:

Do I embrace technology as a tool for connection? Or step back to protect my integrity? And if I do, do I risk missing a golden opportunity?

If my authentic self falls in a forest and no one is around to like it, does it even exist?

😱😱😱

Back to this morning.

By nine, Lynn and I agreed: debate is healthy. Authenticity is powerful, but fragile. And realness starts when two people meet somewhere between knowing who they are and being open to change.

So here’s to unexpected encounters and great conversation.

But most of all, here’s to keeping things real.

xoxo,
Galadriel ✨🌿

31/12/2025

15/11/2025

Ken jij al? 🌈

04/11/2025

Some days are just… spectacularly bad.
Not character-building bad. Not “I’ll laugh about this someday” bad.

Just bad bad.

The kind of bad that makes you question if Mercury went retrograde, joined forces with an evil twin from a questionable galaxy and a bunch of very bored conspiracy theorists, and decided to ruin your life for funsies.

No lessons. No silver linings. No phoenix rising from the flames. Just a big fat pile of ashes.

I’m not even going to bother asking ChatGPT to give this post a positive spin, because I wouldn’t want any of this to accidentally trickle into your algorithms and choke up your mojo.

As of tomorrow, I’ll be my chirpy self again, available for projects that don’t require a fire brigade, therapy or mercy likes from my network. But in the meantime I just need to stew in a very large pool of self-pitty. 🫩

I sincerely hope yours was better than mine.
🍀

10/10/2025

Today is 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝗗𝗮𝘆, and I’ve been thinking about how grateful I am to have been teaching yoga for as long as I have.

First, because I love it.

Second, because it connects me with people who do fascinating things with their lives. As most of my classes take place in corporate environments, I get to learn from people working in fields far removed from my own (from magistrates to engineers to entrepreneurs).

Third, because it gets me off my backside from time to time; which is much needed, considering that writing involves a lot of sitting and being stuck in your head.

What I find most interesting is how yoga has evolved. It’s no longer seen as something woo-woo, but is now widely recognised as a 𝘀𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲-𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 for body, mind, and soul. We know it lowers cortisol, regulates the nervous system, improves sleep, and strengthens emotional resilience. In simple terms, it helps us come back to ourselves.

If you’d like to bring yoga or wellbeing into your workplace, don’t hesitate to reach out — either directly or via The Circle of Wellbeing for more embedded programmes, strategic implementation, and events. 🧘‍♀️💛

05/07/2025

Today I taught a yoga class to a young woman with a 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗵𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝘁.

Hence the little mic clipped onto the collar of my shirt. Knowing my cues were being processed into an 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲’𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 was a humbling experience that made me incredibly mindful of every word I said.

As yoga teachers, we tend to use 𝗮 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗶𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. But as I started to teach, I suddenly wondered how all of my poetic prompts would sound as they travelled through a tiny bit of high-tech fluff attached to my top. To someone with impaired hearing, most of them must come across not just as weirdly robotic—but probably also as mildly insane. So I decided to cut the cosmic drivel and be as concise as I possibly could.

The 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝘆 involved ‘acting normal’. While many thoughts raced through my mind, I tried to tone down the output of all my mental meanderings to make sure no one felt overlooked.

To my great relief, after class the young woman came to collect her microphone and told me how much she enjoyed the session. That alone made my day.
She also had one of the warmest smiles I’ve ever seen.

𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆:

As I hopped into my car, I called my mom to tell her about my experience. 𝗦𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲, she’s developed a soft spot for stories about people making the most of the cards they were dealt. So I made a concerted effort to capture every single detail about the mic, the implant, the class, and that big warm smile at the end of it.

And then, in her serendipitously beautiful way, my mom asked:

“𝗗𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰 𝘁𝗼𝗼?”

𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 had I thought about the music.

So that big smile at the end of class?

It had very little to do with my student’s need to hear. 𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗹𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻.

The moral of the story? Boy is it tempting to get caught up in your own fluff.

Thank god for moms - and cochlear implants. 💛

22/05/2025

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜 𝗮𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁: 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵.

I am a yoga teacher.

I’ve spent years studying the human body, memorizing ancient scripture, and exploring the space we often accuse of creating division—when in truth, it’s really what keeps us from falling apart.

I was trained to prompt big questions without giving away the end.
Part of my mindful mission is to keep stories unfolding—and that includes keeping track of my own.

The parts I struggle with are mine to disentangle. I am a glorious mess, worthy of that effort—and 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 is precisely what makes me a teacher. My job isn’t to reveal the big picture, but to revel in the fact that I am part of the frame.






⭕️

17/02/2025

I just heard the most amazing definition of the word ‘resilience’:

‘𝕀𝕥’𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕟𝕠𝕥-𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘’.

If you have fashioned yourself to be someone academically talented, you’ll know that this space can feel profoundly uncomfortable—frustrating, even.
But here’s the thing: feeling frustrated means you’re on the learning curve—and that’s a gazillion times better than being nowhere at all.

So here I am, practicing my Arabic once again. Progress is painstakingly slow, and the frustration is real. But if this is what learning feels like, then bring it on.
Surely, a language that has 19 different words for ‘love’ is worth every effort.

Right? 🥴







🤍