This fall has brought some exciting new beginnings.

I’ve partnered with the Parkinson’s Association of the Carolinas to begin a weekly Yoga for Parkinson’s class in Raleigh. I continue to lead a monthly virtual chair yoga session for an Ataxia support group. I’m preparing a four-week yoga therapy series at the Southeast Raleigh YMCA, and very soon I’ll also be offering yoga therapy virtually through Worthy & Wyld.

In my own practice, I’ve discovered a love for Iyengar Yoga at the Iyengar Yoga Center of Raleigh—going deeper into precision and alignment in the postures and exploring how props can support the journey.

The common thread?

Community.

The beauty of being in community has surfaced again and again through all of these experiences.

I think this is a lesson asking to be learned.

I am, by nature, an introvert—a back-of-the-class kind of student. Given the choice, I will almost always choose to be at home, in comfy clothes, most likely curled up on the couch with a book.

But I’m beginning to understand more deeply how important it is to show up—for ourselves and for one another.

We are meant to be in community.

There is the compassion of a group that understands what you’re going through when you’re having a difficult week. The smile of a friend who sees you fall out of Tree Pose and then try it again. The connection that comes through laughter. The shared energy and life force of breathing together as one.

Perhaps we humans have always known, somewhere deep within us, how much we need this.

In Sanskrit, sangha means community or assembly, and in the Buddhist tradition, the Sangha is one of the foundations of the spiritual path.

The importance of community also runs deeply through my own Christian faith. In Hebrews, we are reminded:

“And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together…but encouraging one another…”
— Hebrews 10:24–25

Different traditions, but a wisdom that feels deeply human: we aren’t meant to do all of this alone.

There are seasons when we need the quiet of our own company. But there are also times when something in us is strengthened simply because another person is beside us—moving, breathing, laughing, listening, understanding.

So as we move into fall, perhaps there is an invitation here for all of us:

Show up.

Show up for the class.
Show up for the friend.
Show up for the conversation.
Show up for yourself.

And when we do, may we draw a little more strength, joy and love from the communities that hold us—and offer some of that same strength, joy and love in return.