Practicing Peace Isn’t Passive
by Nicola Colville
January asked us to show up with energy and commitment—to build momentum, establish rhythm, and move together with intention. There’s something deeply nourishing about that collective energy—walking into the studio and feeling it in the room, the quiet determination, the shared resolve to begin again. Now, as we move through February and the Pause, Practice + Peace journey unfolds, we’re invited not to do less, but to listen more closely to what supports balance, recovery, and ease. To ask a different question: What happens when we keep showing up—but soften the way we do it?
Peace is often misunderstood as something passive. Something that happens when life finally settles down, when the to-do list shortens, when the noise fades. But in practice—on the mat and in life—peace is anything but passive. It’s an active choice. A skill. Something we learn, moment by moment.
In yoga, peace doesn’t mean stopping movement. It means moving with awareness. It’s the pause before the transition. The breath that steadies us when effort peaks. The decision to ease off before the body asks us twice. These moments require attention, honesty, and trust—qualities that don’t come automatically, especially in a culture that rewards constant doing.
This is where slower practices become so powerful. Yin, restorative, meditation—they’re not an “off day” from yoga. They’re where the nervous system gets a chance to exhale. Where effort is metabolized. Where the benefits of strong, dynamic practice actually
take root. In winter, especially, this matters. Cold months ask us to conserve energy, to stay resilient rather than relentless. Many of us are balancing full schedules, work demands, family responsibilities, and the emotional weight that winter can quietly carry. Practicing peace, in this context, isn’t indulgent—it’s supportive. It’s how we stay well enough to keep going.
Peace also asks us to listen. To notice when the breath becomes shallow. When the jaw tightens. When the mind races ahead of the body. On the mat, that listening might look like choosing stillness instead of one more pose. Off the mat, it might look like slowing a conversation, creating space between commitments, or simply allowing ourselves to rest without justification.
What’s beautiful about practicing in a community—especially one as rooted and familiar as Luna Yoga—is that we don’t do this alone. We learn from each other’s presence. From the shared quiet of a yin class. From the collective exhale at the end of practice. From knowing that peace isn’t something we need to perfect, but something we return to, again and again.
This February, the invitation isn’t to slow down for the sake of slowing down, or to step away from movement altogether. It’s an invitation to practice with more awareness—to balance strength with softness, effort with ease, and movement with moments of intentional stillness.
As we move through this season together, may we continue to listen closely, honour what supports us, and remember that peace isn’t something we wait for. It’s something we practice—again and again, on and off the mat.
Namaste
Nix
