The holidays arrive like a glitter-covered tornado. Obligations pile up, calendars burst at the seams, and suddenly rest becomes something we schedule instead of something we inhale. Everywhere we turn, we are met with messages to do more, buy more, and show up more. It's no wonder our nervous systems feel like a string of lights with one faulty bulb threatening to take down the whole strand.

There’s a quiet, sacred exchange that happens when you hold space for someone else’s healing. When a student settles into stillness — when their jaw softens, or a tear falls, or their breath finally deepens — the whole room shifts. And in that shift, I feel something shift in me, too.