Awakening the Inner Fire Together

Reflections on warmth, practice, and steady presence

As I travel to the other side of the world, I may be in India physically, yet I am still holding space for my sweet studio and the energy of our community. I hear that Mother Nature is offering a deep freeze back home. From here, I can only extend the warmth of my heart and gently remind you that this, too, shall pass.

Places shaped by centuries of devotion and stillness. Practice, remembered.

We are hearty beings, capable of meeting obstacles as pathways for learning and growth.

There are many challenges unfolding right now—in our country and across the world. We are witnessing extremes everywhere, and even Mother Earth seems to be mirroring this through frozen terrain and stark conditions. Ice appears in many forms, and the tension continues.

In moments like these, let us return to the fundamental values of humanity as articulated by the great sages. Let us remember to keep our hearts warm and soften the armor of fear. A sincere practice allows us to reconnect with our truest self.

The central focus of yoga is the mind. The body is external, the soul eternal, and the mind stands between them—neither fully inside nor outside. It is the meeting place of body and consciousness. Problems arise when the mind is unsettled, for it influences both body and awareness. The teachings remind us that “the mind is the ground for both bondage and liberation.”

Where we place our attention matters. When our focus is consumed by fear—by what we hear and see in daily news feeds or by our inner chatter of worry and doubt—the mind becomes restless, like a jumpy monkey with no chance to discern what is true or wise. Such a mind forgets its innate strength and loses the protection that comes from one-pointed focus.

A steady light, rising through the haze.

I am in India to deepen my practice, so that I may return home inspired—and inspire others in return. To remind us that, together, we can rise beyond the frozen layers of the body and awaken Agni, the inner fire in our bellies. We can move prana with intention and guide it gently toward the heart.

When the mind is calm, harmonious, and concentrated, we gain clearer understanding of ourselves and one another. We become better human beings, guided by a moral compass rooted in warmth and inner light. A tranquil, one-pointed mind is inherently creative.

From this space, we can stand up for humanity with the right words, at the right time, spoken in the right way—not from anger or fear, but from the conviction of the heart. A peaceful mind listens deeply and heeds the quiet voice of the soul.

Though it may be frigid outside, at Yoga Among Friends we gather to uphold the integrity of our community—with love, compassion, and care for all beings. We are stronger in this shared focus than in confusion or fear. Yoga offers us a path through asana and meditation.

When the mind becomes still, what happens? Yoga Sutra 1.3: Tada drashtuh svarupe avasthanam—we rest in our true nature. We see clearly that we are exactly where we need to be.

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Keep the heart warm. Keep the inner fire lit as a gentle glow. And continue to be inspired as we create a peaceful home—together.

As we continue to tend the warmth within us, we’re reminded that steadiness often grows when we practice together.
A gentle reflection:
What practice, place, or ritual helps you return to steadiness?

We’d love for you to share in the comments below, if you feel called.

Home is in the Heart

I’ve been practicing meditation for a long time. Only recently have I truly embraced patience—finally accepting that meditation is a process of preparation, a journey rather than a destination. The effort is not to arrive somewhere else, but to enjoy the act of focusing and to witness whatever is being revealed. I am no longer the driver; the car is being driven. I am trusting that I am right where I need to be.

Years ago, I was putting myself through graduate school while going through a divorce, moving every couple of weeks from one house-sitting job to another in Los Angeles. At the time, I had very wealthy celebrity clients whom I taught privately in their homes. I was blessed to be invited to live in those homes—taking care of birds, cats, dogs, and whatever else needed tending—while they were away filming some exciting project.

And yet, I was struggling. I could barely afford gas. I was living in a vast city filled with obstacles as a poor yoga teacher and graduate student.

One night, as I was moving from one address to another in the Hollywood Hills, it was pouring rain. I’ve been reminded of this memory recently as LA experiences rain and mudslides during the holiday season. I had all my possessions in a Trader Joe’s paper bag and was juggling an umbrella while trying to get into my car, parked on a steep hill. The bag soaked through, and suddenly all my dirty clothes were carried away by a river of rainwater flowing down the mountainside.

By the time I gathered everything and threw the soggy mess into my car, I was drenched. I sat there, wiped my wet face with whatever dry material I could find, and began to sob—my own messy, wet tears pouring out.

In that moment, I realized there was a name for my existence: homeless. I became acutely aware that I had no permanent address.

Later that night, I settled into yet another borrowed home. I was alone, feeling deeply sorry for myself, trying to piece together my reality. I began to chant Om. I could feel the vibration of my voice as a call for help. Suddenly, the sound began to shift, and a deep moan emerged.

I realized I was chanting the word home.

That sound became the expression of my deepest longing. In that profound moment, I connected to my heart. Grief softened into longing, and something inside me shifted. I understood—my true home was within me. I felt warmth and fullness in my heart. I felt protected, seen, and deeply loved.

"My true home was inside of me."

It was a true blessing, a moment that has stayed with me for over thirty years.

Within the next two years, I found the courage to leave Los Angeles and move to what I had heard in meditation as “the Heartland.” I arrived in the Chicago area and slowly found my roots in the rhythm of small-town life. From there, I helped create a yoga home where others could experience belonging and connection to their inner True Self.

Yoga Among Friends has become a home for many—a space grounded in safety, where we come together to explore what it truly means to feel held. Without safety, there is no growth. Without safety, there is no learning. Without safety, there is no healing.

This past year, it has been especially challenging to witness how many people around the world have been uprooted—living with uncertainty, fear, and the absence of a place to rest. When there is nowhere to feel safe, it becomes nearly impossible to access stillness, to settle into the quiet of the silent night.

My husband has volunteered with World Relief for many years. He offered a small condo to a couple who escaped Afghanistan on one of the last planes to the U.S. They are here legally, and yet each day carries uncertainty. Though I can practice compassion, I cannot fully understand the depth of grief and fear they live with daily.

And yet, every day they offer prayers of gratitude for shelter, even while living with uncertainty. I have never met a more grateful couple. Their devotion has deepened my understanding of what mantra truly offers the human spirit. Om is not a chant of separation—it is a vibration of connection.

They are devoted Muslims, chanting prayers that carry the same resonance of love. Christmas, Solstice, Hanukkah, and Kwanza—these celebrations become one shared light of devotion. Whatever sound we choose, whatever tradition we follow, we are all reaching toward the same source of belonging.

I have learned that my sense of home is always connected to this greater vibration. It lives beyond walls and addresses. It exists in the heart, in connection, in presence.

I am not driving the vehicle of life. I am simply committed to listening. Years ago, I made a quiet promise to keep seeking that deeper place of home—again and again.

A Gentle Invitation

If you’re longing for a place to feel grounded, supported, and at home in your body, know that you are not alone. We invite you to join us in class.

Our ongoing classes offer a steady refuge—spaces to breathe, move, rest, and reconnect with what matters most.

Home is in the heart.
Shine for others.

I look forward to sharing the unfolding journey in the New Year and continuing to hold Yoga Among Friends as a safe refuge where all are welcome, and all belong.

With love,

Laura Jane

Finding Gratitude in Challenging Times: A Mindful Reflection for the Holiday Season

It has been a challenge this year for so many to see and feel the blessings that still surround us. Yet even in the midst of uncertainty, I find myself filled with enthusiasm for the beautiful and unexpected ways joy continues to arise—quietly, softly, and often when I need it most.

Lately, I’ve discovered a profound appreciation for the smallest moments. I am grateful for slowing down, for sitting quietly in the dark this morning, for my crazy dog waking me again at 4:45 AM—what once felt like an irritation now feels like a tender reminder that I am loved and needed. I am grateful for the invisible angels who care for the yoga center, and for the teachers who arrive with passion and a generous dedication to sharing their gifts. I am deeply grateful for you, the students whose steady presence and open hearts keep this sacred space alive with grace. And for the tiny yellow rose left on my desk, whispering that I am held. These simple gestures remind me that love is threaded everywhere.

This year has also revealed the strength of our community in ways that move me deeply. The joy that traveling brings, the way our connections expand beyond these walls, the shared stories of hardship that soften when held together in compassion. The generosity of students who bring bags of food for those in need. The grace of a teacher who chose to donate her salary to support others. The kindness of students driving a teacher to PT during her rehab. The blessing of tears and laughter as we face the truths of aging—remembering that while the body is tender, the soul remains mighty.

Through it all, our practice becomes more refined, more honest, more intimate. I am humbled by the transformation that continues to unfold within my own body and within this community I love.

As I sit and reflect on this year, my heart spills over with compassion for those moving through profound loss—the homes destroyed in the LA fire, the jobs lost, the deaths mourned, the quiet griefs carried in so many hearts. My intention is to love more, to soften my protective layers, and to meet others heart to heart. I am deeply moved by the love humanity is offering this holiday season, even in the midst of so much pain.

Now, more than ever, we are called to turn on our inner light—to shine for those standing in the dark.

For all of this, I am blessed, and I say thank you.
This holiday, may we hug more, invite a friend to tea, or write a simple note of gratitude. And may we also offer ourselves the gift of pause. Sit quietly. Let yourself feel what is real. Loving is not harming, but neither is it pain-free. Accept all of yourself—especially the parts that feel hard to love. Feel the grief and sadness, and breathe into your heart. Let the quiet enthusiasm of joy find its place within you again.

Joy is not outside of us—it is an inner journey. We must fill our own vessels with wonder and awe during this auspicious time. Each breath is a blessing, and when we feel this grace, we can send it into the world.

All of this goes beyond intellect. It is the deeper knowing that steadies, grounds, and supports us—a “something other” that reveals itself in the courage of those doing the hard things. Yes, we may be tired and overwhelmed, but still we can choose to go inward, to transform the inner fire into light. Light your inner pilot light and let it shine outward through the glow of your smile.

We can celebrate these moments together and welcome one another into deeper love.
And it all begins by listening, by being still in the dark.
In the dark, we water the roots of abundance—the quiet prosperity of love.

Let joy be revealed in your own heart.
Happy Thanksgiving.

With love and light,

Laura Jane