The Sacred Pause: From Burnout to Rebirth through Āhāra-Niyama
As I sit here in front of my computer, I feel called to journal and share a glimpse into my life and yoga journey. These past two months have been intense, both mentally and physically. A wave of challenges swept through, testing my resilience and pushing me into deep reflection.
I found myself caught in a state of complete demotivation, feeling stuck, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of everything happening at once, both in my personal life and in my career. It felt like trying to move forward while walking through fog.
But life moves in cycles. And within those cycles, we are invited to transform, to shed old layers, and to step into a more aligned version of ourselves. I’ve been moving through a wave of doubt, confusion, and perseverance. Trying to discern the true principles that I want to live by. The conflict has been both inner and outer, colliding and demanding attention. But this is also a sacred moment, to pause, to observe, to feel deeply, and to act consciously.
I am so grateful for the wisdom of Yoga, which offers me the space of mind and heart to shift perspectives. The mind can be a trickster, but transformation comes through action. Yoga teaches us to return again and again to the path, no matter how lost we may feel.
Two mantras have been with me throughout this time. The first is Sutra 1.2: Yogaś citta vṛtti nirodhaḥ, Yoga is the cessation (or stilling) of the fluctuations of the mind. This is one of the most famous and profound sutras in all of yogic philosophy. In simple terms, it means that the essence of yoga is learning how to quiet the mind. “Citta” refers to the mind-stuff, our thoughts, emotions, memories, and subconscious impressions. “Vṛtti” means the waves or fluctuations of the mind, and “nirodhaḥ” refers to the restraint or stilling of those movements. During these months of confusion, demotivation, and inner conflict, my mind was full of vṛttis, waves of thoughts, doubts, fears, and expectations. Yoga doesn’t necessarily aim to eliminate all thoughts forever, but rather to bring awareness to them and cultivate a state of inner stillness, where we are no longer controlled by them.
So when you turn toward your practice when you create space to observe and feel that is yoga in action. Every breath, every moment of presence, every intentional step back from chaos is an act of Yogaś citta vṛtti nirodhaḥ.
The second is Sutra 1.3: Tadā draṣṭuḥ svarūpe avasthānam, Then the Seer abides in their own true nature. This sutra tells us what happens when the mind becomes still, we begin to experience our truest, purest self, the draṣṭuḥ, the Seer, the witness consciousness that lies beneath all the noise.
This is not the personality, the ego, or the roles we play in life. It is the timeless self. The soul, the inner light.
When the storm of thoughts quiets down, we can finally see. We remember who we really are not the confusion, not the burnout, not the doubt, but the essence beneath all of it.
In the end, this period of confusion and sadness has reconnected me with my principles, with the essentials of life, and with my vision. This is the Seer re-emerging. This is the process of returning home, to my true nature.
And so, we are moving…
After 4 beautiful years in Lisbon, a vibrant city that welcomed me with open arms, gifted me countless memories, and connected me to so many dear souls, it’s time for a new chapter. I’ve decided to move north, to Porto.
Surrounded by green hills, the ocean breeze, and a quieter rhythm of life, Porto brings us closer to the land we recently bought, a space that holds deep meaning for me. Even more, it brings us closer to family and friends, to roots and reconnection. This move feels aligned, not only logistically, but spiritually and energetically.
July will be a month of preparation and transition. While I will continue teaching online, I’ll be stepping away from in-person classes at Yoga Room Lisbon.
And then comes August, a fresh beginning:
New city. New home. New energy. New life.
This shift didn’t arise only from outer circumstances, but from within—from a quiet storm that demanded to be heard. Burnout, inner conflict, and the subtle ache of disconnection led me back to something essential. I found myself called to return to the roots of nourishment—to what in Sanskrit is called:
Āhāra-Niyama (आहारनियम) The mindful, life-giving rhythms that sustain body, heart, and soul.
Āhāra is nourishment—not just food, but everything we absorb: impressions, emotions, relationships, sounds, and thoughts.
Niyama is observance, the gentle yet steady discipline that helps us stay in tune with what truly matters.
In the fast pace of modern life, it’s easy to forget the quiet rituals that hold us. But Āhāra-Niyama calls me back—to intention, to rhythm, to presence.
It reminds me that true nourishment is more than what’s on the plate. It’s found in the books I read, the music that moves me, the conversations that uplift me, and the beauty I take time to notice.
Niyama is the sacred discipline of care:
Caring for myself, honoring my boundaries, moving with joy, and creating space to simply be.
This return is not about striving for perfection. It’s about remembering. Coming back, again and again, to the things that keep me grounded:
Cooking with love. Eating with gratitude. Sleeping deeply. Praying with sincerity. Loving with openness. Listening fully.
These aren’t items on a to-do list. They are sacred acts. Offerings. Anchors.
They are the quiet heartbeat of a life lived in alignment.
In a world that often values speed over stillness, ambition over balance, and productivity over presence, it’s easy to lose touch with these foundations. When one pillar collapses, the whole inner structure can falter. That happened to me. But now, I am rebuilding—from the inside out.
This transformation is a blessing. A call home.
And I feel more inspired than ever to welcome this big, beautiful change.
Yoga remains the thread that weaves it all together. I will always be a student of this path, and forever grateful for the opportunity to share its wisdom with you.
Letter to Yoga Room Lisbon
Dear Yoga Room Community,
…
Of course, this change comes with sadness, and saudade, a tender longing for all that we’ve shared here. The memories, the energy, the rituals of gathering, moving, breathing, and being together in the sacred space of Yoga Room Lisbon. This studio has been more than just a place to teach, it has been a sanctuary, a home.
To each of you who’ve stepped into that space with me, whether once or hundreds of times. Thank you. Thank you for your trust. Thank you for meeting me in presence. Thank you for allowing yoga to move through us together.
This transition brings to mind the Sanskrit word Saṃskāra (संस्कार), the sacred impressions, experiences, and internal shifts that shape the soul’s journey. Saṃskāras are not only the habits we form, but also the subtle imprints left by love, devotion, and transformation.
These past four years have carved deep, beautiful Saṃskāras within me, through our shared practices, our conversations, the quiet moments of stillness, the challenges and the breakthroughs. I carry those imprints with reverence as I walk forward. They are living reminders of our connection, and of how powerful this path can be when walked in community.
This is not a goodbye, it is a see you soon.
Yoga teaches us that we are never truly apart. We are woven together by breath, by consciousness, by shared intention. No matter where I go, you are with me. And my hope is that in some way, I remain with you too.
My last in-person class at Yoga Room Lisbon will be on July 2nd.
I would love to share one more sacred circle of practice with you in that beautiful room, to move, breathe, and honour this transition together.
From the deepest part of my heart: thank you.
For walking this path beside me.
For being part of this precious chapter of my life.
With all my love and boundless gratitude,
Lita Sattva
Lokāḥ samastāḥ sukhino bhavantu
— May all beings everywhere be happy and free.
Shāntiḥ, shāntiḥ, shāntiḥ
— Peace within, peace around, peace beyond.
Hari Om. Jai.
— May the divine light guide our path.
Much Love and compassion
Lita Sattva.
