Leading with our Hearts

Many of you have come into the clinic lately carrying a quiet heaviness — a kind of heartsickness about what is unfolding in the world. I want you to know that I feel it too. There is a collective tenderness, edged with anger right now.

Last night in yoga, our teacher, Pete Guinosso, invited us to “remember your humanity.” That simple phrase stayed with me. I thought about the anger I’ve been feeling — the frustration, the grief — and how easy it is to let those emotions harden us. But remembering our humanity asks something different of us. It calls us back to our hearts. It reminds us that our anger often springs from care, from love, from a deep desire for justice and safety for all beings.

When we remember our humanity, we don’t bypass what we’re feeling — we honor it. And from that place, we can choose how we respond. We can stand up for those who don’t have a voice. We can speak truth. We can set boundaries. And we can do it in a way that is rooted in compassion rather than division. Strength and softness are not opposites; they are partners.

This is a powerful time to slow down. To tend to your nervous system. To connect meaningfully with the people around you. To step away from the noise and return to your breath, your body, your values. Caring for yourself is not a retreat from the world — it is what allows you to show up to it with clarity and steadiness.

Here in the clinic, our intention is to nourish you — not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. To offer a space where your shoulders can drop, your breath can deepen, and your heart can soften. You don’t have to carry it all alone.

May we remember our humanity together. May we lead with our hearts. And may we continue to care for ourselves and each other in ways that ripple outward.