This week’s reflection opens a door into a quieter form of mindfulness—one that doesn’t sever thought, but listens. Inspired by a trick of light and the return of childlike perception, I explore how Yin Yoga helps us see the world again—with softness, with memory, and with a little less inner violence. If you’d like to practice this way with me, I’ve included a free 30-minute video at the end. And if you’re near Connecticut, join me in person on November 8th in Colchester, CT for a special workshop: Yin Yoga and the Five Elements of Spirit.
A few days ago, I passed through the mudroom and caught something uncanny through the window.
Out in the front yard stood the small wooden temple that was built last summer. But next to it—right beside it—was the old, ruddy shed that lives in the backyard.
Of course, the shed wasn’t actually out there in the front yard. But it certainly looked like it was.
What I was seeing was a trick of reflection—light bouncing off the glass door behind me, pulling the shed from its usual place and dropping it beside the temple. An optical illusion cast on the window through which I gazed. Back yard and front yard, now side by side, like reunited friends. A perception made entirely of light’s play—yet no less real in its impact.
It reminded me that we never see the world untouched. Our perception is a prism. Memory refracts, and light distorts, and what’s here is never just here—it’s layered with what has been and might be. The practice, I think, is not to restrain our seeing, but to recognize it. To soften the inner violence that tries to edit experience into something more tidy, more “spiritual,” more now.
The Inner Violence of Mindfulness
A few days after the shed/temple incident, I was lying in Twisted Deer, resting on a bolster with a book open on the floor, when I saw a small face in the rug—some imagined captain, stitched from shadow and weave. For a few breaths, I just watched like a child, wondering how I had never seen him before.
And this reminded me of something I’ve been holding for a long time: the way mainstream mindfulness can flatten our capacity to perceive.
Years ago, on retreat, I was struck by what Feldenkrais called “the elusive obvious.” And what became obvious to me was this: most mindfulness instructions subtly teach us to treat thoughts—especially memories and anticipations—as errors.
We’re told: come back to the breath, to the body, to the here and now. Don’t get lost in thought. Stay in real time. Track sensations. Be present.
And yet… what is a thought of the past or future if not something arising in the present?
The very moment I try to sever a “wandering” thought, I’m committing a kind of inner violence—decapitating the very stream of consciousness that might be trying to show me something.
Over time, I’ve come to embrace what I call multi-dimensional—or omnidirectional—awareness. A way of being that allows perception to move forward and back, inward and outward, up and down. Memory is welcome. Imagination, too. Each carries its own thread of meaning.
This isn’t an argument against mindfulness. It’s a plea to let perception live again.
Below is a short poem and practice to evoke—and maybe liberate—a different kind of freedom in your own practice.
Through the Mudroom Window
A poem
A trick of glass—
the shed standing by the temple,
though the shed lives out back,
the temple out front.
Light bent the world
so past and present stood
shoulder to shoulder,
like two old friends
forgetting who was who.
I saw how memory
is always in the room,
reflected through
whatever light we call
the present.
Practice Invitation: 30-Min Yin Yoga | Bolster Qi Flow
Here’s a short Yin Yoga sequence I’ve been practicing in the evenings—a gentle coalescence of fascia, breath, and perception. You’ll need a bolster (or a thick pillow), and once you get the hang of it, enjoy reading a book as part of your practice.
📺 Watch the Free 30-Min Yin Yoga Practice | Bolster Qi Flow
A practice for restoring childlike attention, listening inwardly, and letting thoughts be part of the path.
Want to Practice Like This Every Week?
If this way of practicing speaks to you, I’d love to invite you into my Yin Yoga Practice Membership. Each week, I host two Yin Yoga classes on Zoom, inspired by the Five Elements of Chinese Medicine—blending breath, fascia, mindfulness, and quiet ritual. Members also receive access to a growing library of past practices and workshops.
Practice weekly. Breathe deeply. See again.
🙏 Join Me In Person: November 8 in Colchester, CT
For those local to New England, I’ll be leading an in-person workshop on Yin Yoga and the Five Elements of Spirit on Saturday, November 8th in Colchester, CT. We’ll explore how perception, energy, and the Five Elements coalesce in practice—and you’ll leave with a richer understanding of how to nourish your path.
