Us yoga folk? We’re nut cups.
We don’t come willingly to a daily, pre-dawn, arduous practice because we’re whole, sorted and steady. We come a little broken, seeking something of meaning.
We are empaths and believers, seekers, and strivers. We are committed and disciplined. We are journeyers and rabble rousers. We are many wonderful things. But inclined to feel normal, adjusted and whole we are not. Perhaps you are. And that's great. Congratulations. I am not. I am full to the brim with oddities, quirks and neuroses that on my best days I can simply watch pass through the sky of my mind like I might watch the weather. But at my core?
I am a nut cup.
If you are too, say it with me: we are nut cups.
We practice people are engaged in a perpetual process of reshaping and remaking our bodies, minds and hearts. We’re seeking some scrap of truth and insight. Which makes us a little “kookoo pants,” as a friend said the other day. And that’s totally cool. The weirder the better in my book.
Our weird soared to new heights these last years. We practiced together through the screens, and sometimes outside, and occasionally masked; or masked, outside and through the screen all at the same time. We practiced in laundry rooms, and kitchens, next to pets and plants, surrounded by kids and legos. We did our best. And our best was good enough. But the distance was transformative, and collectively, alchemically altering.
This time has refashioned yoga, and inherently, the future of yoga. Now is the time to reimagine practice communities that serve as places of curiosity and care.
As we chart the map of yoga moving forward, I make a motion to honor our inner nut cups, without letting them get in the way of our compassion and respect for all beings. Can we let ourselves be a little mad, but not quite so rigid? Can we continue to unfold our limbs in all the silly shapes imaginable, without demanding that of others? How do we honor the roots and history of yoga without getting bogged down in dogma and nationalism?
I’m watching Pranidhi offer the practice like a warm cup of tea with oat milk and honey. I’m inspired by Shanna who is laying down the practice like a beach blanket that we can all join. And in a surprising twist, I’m excited to see that OGs are hopping on board with The Great Softening.
The practice is starting to feel like something we share in, rather than a commandment. We’re still a bunch of kooks, but we’re more inclusive and invitational. The practice feels gentler, more accessible and loving.
This slowly fills me up, teaspoon by teaspoon, with hope, the courage to keep going, and the yearning to find a path forward together.
In all my loving nut cuppery,
Erica
P.S. Where are you foraging sprigs of hope, plopping them into your picking basket like the first dandelions of the season? Who or what is inspiring your practice? Leave a comment below and receive an extra, subscribers-only missive in the coming weeks.

The Bāuls of Bengal
The Bāuls are a group of nonconformists who reject the traditional social norms to form a distinct sect - music is their religion and source of sustenance.
“Hope is kindled when we remember that we belong to one another. By dropping our impulse to otherize, reclaiming our kinship with all life, and embracing the Earth as our Mother, we can collectively awaken from this dangerous dream of dominance and take up the privilege of stewardship that all the great wisdom traditions remind us is our true task.”
— Mirabai Starr, Wild Mercy
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