MEDITATION FOR CRISIS
My Dearest Community,
I have been longing to support you during this devastating time since it began. However, I have not had electricity—and therefore no internet or cell service—since January 7. Not even gas, and the cascade of consequences that come with it. I am typing this message offline, so please excuse any typos; English is not my first language. But the message is too crucial and urgently needed to wait. I trust that you will receive what you need from this.
Being a yogi, in times of crisis, I tend to retreat inward, seeking refuge and drawing strength from higher resources, looking for the most effective way I can be of service to others—to you, dear one. I invite you to do the same: to contemplate whether watching the news all day and receiving "alerts" that may not truly apply to you is serving you in the most positive way. Or is it giving you a false sense of security? Ask yourself: Is this allowing you to serve your loved ones, your community, and others in need in the most effective way? When your nervous system is hyper-vigilant, you are no use to yourself or anyone around you. But when your mind-body connection is coherent, your brain becomes more resourceful, and you are able to come up with creative solutions and effective ideas that not only help you but others as well. I want to remind you: only when your cup is full can you give from your overflow. You can never give from an empty cup, my friend.
When the fire began and I still had internet, my phone was blowing up with text messages from well-meaning people who love and care about me. I watched the infamous videos of the devastating Palisades fire—people abandoning their cars in panic, running for their lives on foot. Bulldozers breaking through the car jam to make room for fire trucks to get through and battle the blaze. My stomach churned, and my heart broke. I was too scared to sleep, fearing the winds might blow the fire toward my area. Then something happened: the power shut off. I completely lost cell reception and was disconnected from the whole world. It suddenly became really quiet. My superpower! I lit a candle and grabbed a book. It was the only thing I could do. The authorities had said not to leave the house unless evacuating, and my zone wasn’t affected.
It wasn’t a spiritual or philosophical book—it was a thriller from 2000, My Husband’s Wife by Jane Corry. I narrowed my focus to the words in front of me because it was the only thing I could control. As the Serenity Prayer goes: “Grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” I read a few chapters, my eyelids grew heavy, and eventually, I fell asleep. I woke up somewhat refreshed and more centered. I took a deep breath. It’s okay to do nothing. To be still. I did my morning sadhana (yogic practice, including breathwork, meditation, and power yoga), made my bed, tidied up, and fed my eight-month-old Goldendoodle, Benji. I noticed that while doing so, I was humming “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow” from Annie:
"The sun'll come out,
Tomorrow.
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow there’ll be sun..."
Wow! I hadn’t thought of that song since I first watched Annie at six years old. I was in awe of my unconscious and its clever methods of finding ways to self-soothe.
The teacher within me is here to tell you: whatever you are feeling—loss, sorrow, confusion, fear, grief, uncertainty, despair—it’s appropriate. Honor and allow those feelings to move through you. Otherwise, they will blast their way out with vengeance. The best way to do this is with self-compassion: hold a space of serenity for yourself during this difficult time. When you clean the window of the mind, you see life more clearly. Because you see the world around you—and these devastating events—not with your eyes, but with your mind. And like Dr. Wayne Dyer said: “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” Yes, even seeing your childhood home and entire neighborhood reduced to ashes.
Yoga is a science of life. The yogis studied the big questions of life, and I’ve spent my entire life contemplating these questions. Why is nature burning down my city, leaving over 100,000 people without homes? Here’s the hard truth no one wants to confront: in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, there’s a concept called Aparigraha. Graha means “non-grasping,” and Apari means “from all sides.” The idea is that impermanence is the law of nature, and the source of all human suffering is grasping too tightly onto things that are impermanent—things that were never designed to last forever, including one’s own life. “What you resist persists; what you embrace, you move through with grace.” I can almost hear your voice: “But Maha, this is just too much, too devastating!” I hear you, dear one. I hear you with my whole heart. But this is how we grow in the school of life. The Buddha said: “The first noble truth is that life is suffering.”
Trust that there is nothing life gives you that you cannot endure. Life believes in you. It created you, and it knows its creation is capable of rising—literally—through the ashes. If you process your pain in a healthy way so it doesn’t turn into trauma, it will transform into post-traumatic wisdom. And it is through this wisdom that you will embrace impermanence and move through future challenges with more grace.
Nothing is designed to last forever. In 200 years, everything you own will have disappeared. Your descendants will barely know you existed. How many of us know our great-great-grandparents’ names or what they looked like? They had homes, friends, hopes, and dreams, just like you. But their lives no longer exist. That’s why all wisdom traditions emphasize the sacredness of the present moment—because it’s all we have. Enjoy the beautiful things in life, because they don’t last. And don’t worry about the bad things, because they don’t last either. We’re all just walking each other home. That’s why it’s important to walk with love and compassion.
Life will go on, my friend. Even though you can’t see through the dense smoke right now, the human spirit will persevere. Homes will be rebuilt. The abundant universe will provide. You will not be left behind. During my cancer treatment, I learned that in times of crisis, it’s best to narrow things down to one simple step at a time. Think in moments, not days. Focus on this moment, this breath, and this experience—because that is what you can control. Nothing else.
For now, I invite you to find stillness for just a few minutes. Turn off your notifications—I promise it’s safe to do so. Disconnect from the media—the world will not stop spinning. Let the sounds of sirens and helicopters fade into the background. Cut through the noise and find yourself again. Find serenity within the chaos. You already know how to do this, and I am here to guide you.
I’ve created a free guided Meditation for Crisis on YouTube. It’s based on neuroplasticity research from Harvard University, which has shown that this form of meditation reduces the size of the amygdala (the brain's fear center). After eight weeks of practice, Harvard research found increased grey matter in the brain, enhancing focus, attention, memory, and resourcefulness. I truly hope this practice benefits you. Please share it so others can find serenity too.
From my wide-open heart to yours: May you be healthy. May you be happy. May you be at peace.
P.S. I will be teaching free community live-stream yoga and meditation classes whenever I have internet. Check The MINDRY website and my Instagram for updates. You can also practice with me on The MINDRY app for on-demand classes.