How do I integrate a transformative experience? What is the mother wound? Can yoga and meditation support emotional healing? What is feminine embodiment? And how do spiritual insights become everyday wisdom? These are five of the most common questions people bring to my sessions and each points toward the same deeper longing: a return to self-trust, presence, and home. Image of poppies from my garden this morning.

For over a decade, I taught Kundalini Yoga as part of my own spiritual and embodied path. It gave me tools I still cherish—breath, discipline, devotion, and community. But as my work deepened with somatics, Compassionate Inquiry, and gentle, nervous-system-aware practices, I realized that what I was offering no longer felt aligned with that name or lineage.

What was coming through me was softer, quieter, and more rooted in presence than in activation. I began searching for a name that reflected this shift and found myself drawn to the Sanskrit word laya—meaning dissolution, softening, and returning to stillness. I am not claiming a traditional lineage called Laya Yoga; rather, this term expresses the essence of what my classes have become: breath-centered, grounding, trauma-sensitive, and focused on unwinding the body into a deeper state of inner presence.

This transition feels like a natural maturation, a return to honesty in my teaching. Laya Yoga is simply the most accurate name for the practice that has been quietly unfolding in me for years.