“I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?”

We’ve all heard it before—sometimes directed at us, sometimes in conversations around us. But what does this phrase really do? Rather than opening dialogue, it shuts it down. It shifts responsibility from the sender to the receiver, dismissing feelings and avoiding accountability.

Humor is essential for joy—a medicine for the soul that strengthens bonds and eases stress. Laughter connects us, lightens burdens, and reminds us of our shared humanity. Yet, when misused, humour can create division, inflict harm, and reinforce exclusion.

If you’ve been around yoga spaces long enough, you’ve probably heard the term Yamas thrown around—but what the Yama are they? And what do they have to do with being a yoga teacher in Australia?

Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras: A Quick Intro

The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, a foundational text in yogic philosophy, outline an eight-limbed path (Ashtanga) as a guide to ethical and spiritual living. The first limb, Yama, focuses on ethical restraints—essentially, how we interact with the world around us. Think of them as the moral compass of yoga.

While the Yamas guide how we interact with the world, the Niyamas turn the focus inward, shaping our personal discipline and self-growth, hence referred to as personal observances. In Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, the Niyamas make up the second limb of yoga, offering practices that cultivate inner clarity, resilience, and integrity.

For yoga teachers, the Niyamas align closely with Yoga Australia’s Code of Professional Conduct, reinforcing self-study, ethical responsibility, and continuous personal growth.

John O’Donohue’s poem For Presence is a gentle yet profound call to awaken to the fullness of being—an invitation to step into the quiet immensity of our own presence. His words, each line a blessing, echo across traditions, intertwining the spiritual landscapes of Celtic mysticism, Eastern philosophy, and even modern psychology. At its heart, his message aligns beautifully with the yogic path, reminding us that where we direct our energy, our practice—our life—takes root and flourishes.