Bare Bones

Late November is when our little corner of the world transforms into a landscape of austere beauty. Stark trees stand etched against the pale sky, resilient and ready for winter’s approach. Most birds - except for the Wild Turkeys, Starlings, and intrepid Black-capped Chickadees - have gone on their way too.

There’s an odd comfort in the stillness at this time of year, when nature seems stripped down to her bare bones.

It’s not unlike the journey yoga invites us on. Through the inward practices of yoga, we discover who we are beyond the roles we play and the labels that typically define us.

When all else is stripped away, what remains is the luminous presence of pure being. This is your most essential identity - the place within you that’s beyond gain and loss, sorrow and happiness, success and failure.

Like the resolute branches of November trees, there is a quiet strength in surrendering to what is true and enduring, regardless of external circumstances.

It’s a reminder that we can always return to this underlying ground of being. We can settle into the vast, timeless awareness that lives just beneath the surface of our ordinary consciousness, free from all the usual ways we define ourselves.

When we earnestly accept the invitation to sit in this emptiness—whether found in November’s barren fields or at the end of an exhalation—we discover something remarkable.

Far from being a void of nothingness, it is a fertile darkness brimming with potential. It is the sacred - and necessary - crucible where new life can emerge. It’s a powerful time of year to turn toward the place inside you that is both empty and filled with possibility.