I do not seek peace as a distant dream.
I live it. I guide it. I plant it—in bodies, in breath, in land, and in lineage.
I believe peace begins not with treaties, but with nervous systems.
It begins with the eldest daughter who finally says,
"I am allowed to rest."
It begins with the refugee child—now grown—who hikes into the hills and remembers,
"My ancestors survived. And so will I."
It begins with the woman who rolls out her mat and whispers,
"This body is no longer a battleground."
I build spaces where healing is not a luxury, but a right.
Where the wisdom of the body is sacred.
Where grief, joy, and rage all have a place at the circle.
Where community care replaces silent suffering.
Where ritual and rhythm return us to wholeness.
I do not perform self-care to escape the world.
I practice it to transform the world.
Because when we remember how to breathe,
we remember how to listen.
When we learn to tend to ourselves,
we begin to tend to each other.
And when we walk in nature as kin,
we stop seeing Earth—or each other—as something to conquer.
This is not a retreat.
This is a return.
To truth.
To tenderness.
To the power of presence.
I am not just teaching yoga.
I am restoring peace.
One lineage, one leader, one lifetime at a time.