Is a mushroom in the flower pot the same thing as a canary in the coal mine? 

A sign of the times?

Asking for a friend, of course.

Imagine my friend's surprise, horror, and wonder when she saw a mushroom growing in her flower pot. She was filled with a flurry of self-deprecating thoughts: What had she done or not done to make this happen? And what would the neighbours think? 

Her first instinct was to pluck that little baby out and toss it into the compost, but she was suspended by a memory of her nephew at eye level with a tiny mushroom inspecting its magic. She didn’t have the heart. 

Uninspired by the explanations she found on the internet, she left it alone until, low and behold, that brilliant mushroom reared its incredible head twofold the very next day. Scrappy little things, in all their glory, quietly doing big and important work, seeking no praise, simply acceptance and trust. 

The mushrooms have since shrivelled, and the pot is thriving. They provided the much-needed medicine and tonic for the flowers to flourish. Somehow, nature just knew a change was needed and took over without apology or formal request. 

That friend was me, of course. 

The first mushroom surfaced on the one-year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis, and it felt symbolic: cleansing and detoxifying.

Like accepting mushrooms in a flower pot, I have been learning to let go of any predictable, standardized expectation for life and living. Change is certain, and due almost entirely to luck and circumstances, many of us may not suffer under the worst of it. We have agency to help, solve problems, learn and unlearn, trust the process, dream, and help shape the future. 

The energy of the world, let alone our own unique experiences, seems chaotic and destabilized. If, like me, you're often consumed with worries about climate change, the housing crisis, genocide, politics, and personal things but don't have the faintest idea how to make any difference or even how to ground yourself in the bedlam. I found this podcast, shared by my friend Sinéad, truly comforting, emphasizing that the path toward ease, even in the most troubling times, is found in our intuition and the natural world, but we need to get oh-so-very quiet to see and receive it.

In the same way, we approach our practice with curiosity, humility, and reflection; I believe this call is to attune ourselves to the rhythms around us: adore laugh lines, familiar voices, and the smell of jasmine on evening walks, listen deeply, and perform acts of kindness and social justice wherever possible. This is yoga off the mat, where collective liberation lives.

Samastha Lokah Sukhino Bhavanthu
I have chosen to say this Sanskrit mantra in my head, and sometimes aloud, at the end of every practice to connect to the Indian roots of yoga. I have moved away from using Namaste because although it, too, holds incredibly beautiful meaning, I have learned over the past few years that it is more of a greeting than a goodbye.
Translation:
May all beings everywhere be happy and free
and may the thoughts and actions of my own life
somehow contribute to this justice and liberation for all

With love,
Sara