June Reflections

June has arrived, bringing us ever closer to the Summer Solstice. Although the official start of summer is still a few weeks away, nature seems to have decided otherwise. We have already enjoyed a generous taste of warm, sunny days, blue skies, and long evenings.

To be honest, I wondered whether the recent high temperatures might discourage people from coming to class. Instead, quite the opposite has happened. The yoga space at the Bothy has become a cool refuge from the heat—a peaceful sanctuary where the air drifts softly from window to window, carrying the scent of the surrounding gardens and woodland. There is something deeply calming about practising in a space so connected to nature. As students settle onto their mats, the outside world seems to fade away, replaced by a sense of ease and quiet contentment.

Next year, I will have been teaching at the Bothy for ten years. It hardly seems possible. Over that decade, the Bothy has become far more than a place to teach yoga; it has become a home for a wonderful community of people who come together to practise, learn, and support one another.

When the pandemic arrived, I stepped away from teaching at several venues. Afterwards, I made the decision not to return to the constant driving from place to place. At the time, downsizing felt like a risk. Like many changes in life, it required a leap of faith.

Looking back now, it was one of the wisest decisions I could have made.

By simplifying things, I have been able to focus fully on the students I teach. They are all wonderful people, committed, supportive, and appreciative of the practice we share. There is a warm feeling in welcoming familiar faces through the door each week and practising together as a community.

Over the years, I have had the privilege and joy of watching students grow in confidence, ability, and understanding. Seeing that progress unfold has been one of the most rewarding aspects of teaching. I would like to thank each and every one of you for your loyalty, friendship, and continued support.

Reconnecting with former students has also been especially heartwarming. Those who wished to find me again have done so, and it is with genuine affection and gratitude that I have welcomed them back. Yoga has a wonderful way of bringing people together, even after periods of separation.

Last month also brought the joy of attending the Rathyatra Festival in London. I stood among thousands of people moving together in a spirit of peace, devotion, celebration, and respect. The atmosphere was extraordinary. There was music, colour, laughter, and a palpable feeling of unity. People from every background came together, sharing a common sense of joy and connection. It was a beautiful reminder that beneath our differences, we all seek the same things: love, belonging, purpose, and peace.

Hare Krishna

I hope to bring a little of that same spirit into every class I teach—a feeling of community, acceptance, and connection. Yoga is much more than physical postures; it is a way of remembering that we are not separate from one another, nor from the natural world around us. We are all part of something far greater than ourselves.

A phrase I often reflect upon is:

Yogam Sangam Gacchami

"I move toward the community of yoga; I take refuge in the gathering of practice."

To me, these words express the heart of what yoga offers: a place where we can come together, support one another, and grow in our practice while discovering a deeper sense of connection.

As we move through June, may we take time to enjoy the simple pleasures of the season—fresh air, sunshine, good company, and nourishing food shared outdoors.

 

A Simple June Lunch

Perfect for enjoying in the garden on a warm afternoon.

Boil new potatoes until tender, then allow them to cool slightly.

Dress them with good olive oil, freshly grated lemon zest, a teaspoon of Dijon mustard, chopped chives, and a splash of water. Toss through a handful of fresh watercress and add sliced radishes for a satisfying crunch.

Serve with crusty bread if desired and enjoy in the sunshine.

Something Sweet Afterwards

Slice a bowl of ripe strawberries and scatter over a few torn basil leaves.

Drizzle lightly with balsamic vinegar and add a teaspoon of sugar to enhance the fruit's natural sweetness.

Serve with Greek yoghurt, dairy-free yoghurt, or a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Simple, fresh, and full of summer.

 

Wishing you all a peaceful June, filled with sunshine, good health, and moments of stillness.

Namaste

Billy 🙏

 

 

May Musings: Light, Growth and a Little Olive Oil Magic

May feels like a month of renewal. In the garden, in the body, in the kitchen — everything seems to be stretching towards life again.

One thing I’m often asked is whether someone is “too old” to begin yoga. Let me say it clearly: you are never too old.

Over the years I’ve taught many chair-based classes with mature newcomers, and the progress people make can be remarkable. Strength builds, confidence grows, and before long I’m often gently suggesting mat work as a natural next step.

If you are reading this and feeling that quiet nudge — that sense of renewal in your own body — why not come along to a morning or evening yoga class in our beautiful natural surroundings? Whether you’re brand new, returning after a break, or wanting to deepen your practice, you’ll be welcomed exactly as you are.

May is also a beautiful month for food. Markets are full of colour and scent, and seasonal produce is at its best.

Jersey Royal potatoes are in their prime — and have you ever tried them roasted in olive oil until the edges crisp while the centres stay buttery and sweet? Absolute heaven.

There are fresh peas and green beans everywhere, and asparagus is still going strong. Add an abundance of herbs — mint, chives, basil, tarragon — and even the simplest meal feels alive. Late spring asks to be celebrated.

And speaking of colour and celebration, London’s annual Ratha Yatra — the joyful Festival of Chariots — takes place this year on Sunday 24 May 2026.

The procession begins at noon from the south end of Park Lane, where three magnificent hand-pulled chariots make their way through the city, down Piccadilly and into the heart of London, arriving in Trafalgar Square. There the festivities continue through the afternoon with music, dance, kirtan, and free vegetarian food for all.

It is one of London’s most colourful spiritual events — open to everyone, completely free, and full of joy. If you’ve never been, it is worth experiencing at least once: the rhythm of the chanting, the movement of the crowd, the sense of shared celebration. A reminder, really, of how community and spirit can lift us.

So yes — a month of light, growth, good food, and perhaps a little olive oil magic.

 

 

Embracing the Whimsy of April

 

April arrives gently, like a long-held breath finally released.

It is the month when the world truly begins to stir, stretching and yawning its way into the light.

There is a specific kind of magic in this transition; it feels a bit like coming out of a deep, restorative Savasana, where the edges of the world feel soft and everything is possible.

The personality of April is nothing if not theatrical.

She has a bit of a flair for the dramatic, scattering blossoms across the grass like a toddler discovering glitter, or commanding the trees to drop petals like in a slow-motion film scene.

She is a month of meteorological mood swings—offering sunshine, rain, and a fleeting rainbow all before you’ve finished your morning tea.

There is a suspicious kind of optimism in the air; we want to believe the warmth has arrived, yet we find ourselves clutching a "just in case" coat as we head out the door.

As the light begins to linger a little longer each evening, the walk to our classes at the Bothy becomes a treat for the senses. You’ll notice the unmistakable scent of damp earth and new beginnings. Even the birds seem caught up in the excitement, singing at five in the morning.

April might warm the air just enough to tempt you to hang the washing out, only to send a cheeky shower to remind you who is truly in charge, but we can't help but love her for it.

In our practice this month, we’ll be leaning into this theme of renewal. We will explore soft twists, gentle backbends, and longer pauses in Savasana to let the nervous system truly settle.

Many of you mention feeling “lighter” after class, and I like to think that April works through us in the same way—a quiet clearing and a subtle, graceful rebalancing.

To keep my own energy fresh and inspired, I’ll be taking a short break this month (another holiday I hear you all say!) Denise will be covering a few classes this month, for me it is a lovely opportunity to refresh. Each class takes time to plan, prepare, and teach, more than most realise. For me to be able to take short breaks knowing that I am leaving you with a teacher that I have the utmost confidence with, enables me to return with the focus and care that each of you deserves.

Before I go, I must mention the star of the April table: Asparagus. Harvested from now until the end of May, it is a reminder that eating with the seasons is not only kinder to our pockets but better for our bodies.

My personal favorite is a creamy Asparagus Risotto—a dish that feels like a warm hug in a bowl.

I encourage you to find a recipe that speaks to you and enjoy the crisp, green taste of Spring.

 

Have fun in the kitchen, have fun in April. See you all when I'm back

Billy 🙏

 

 

 

MARCH — the third month of the year already.

Lighter mornings and evenings are on their way, a new season is slowly unfolding before us.
With a new season comes new crops. Those of you with allotments may be harvesting the last of the winter vegetables or seeing the first signs of fresh growth.

I am a great believer in eating seasonal food; it feels natural to eat what is in abundance. This approach is often seen as a return to how our ancestors lived, focusing on what is naturally available at each time of year.

At the bottom of this months blog you will find an easy vegetarian recipe, I am sure can be adapted for vegans.
Give it a try — it’s simple and wholesome.

Today, on the first day of a new month, I am writing from Devon, taking a break at the beautiful Newhouse Cottages (https://www.newhousecottages.com), a place that has held nearly twenty years of retreats and holidays for us.

I love this month. March hares are beginning to appear, leaping about in their wonderfully mad fashion, and deer wander into view at dawn. To practise yoga in these peaceful surroundings feels like a gift.
Teaching in the Bothy at St James Church brings its own kind of stillness — a gentle, grounded peace that balances the world outside.
There is a Sanskrit word: utsāha — a quiet, steady enthusiasm, the kind of positive energy that stirs after a long stillness. March is full of utsāha if we pause long enough to feel it. It is a month of transition, and it invites us to notice what is waking up inside us too.

 

A Month for Softening and Strengthening

In class this month, we will lean into practices that mirror the season:
• Gentle opening through the chest and shoulders, as if we are turning towards the light ourselves.
• Grounding postures to steady the body while the world around us begins to move again.
• Breathwork that encourages spaciousness — a reminder that renewal does not have to be rushed.

One of my favourite things about this time of year is watching students rediscover their bodies after winter’s hibernation. There is always that moment — sometimes during a twist, sometimes in savasana — when someone realises,
“Oh… I can breathe more deeply than I thought.”
It is a small victory, but personal small victories are the best.

Community Notes

Our classes at the Bothy continue to be a steady anchor, and Denise’s presence as a recognised and insured yoga teacher has brought a lovely sense of continuity.

The new Tuesday night gentle class is settling beautifully — a quiet space for those who need a slower, more restorative rhythm.
Evening yoga classes have a special way of bringing the day to a close.

As always, thank you for showing up with curiosity, humour, and a willingness to wobble. Yoga is not about perfect postures; it is about the stories we tell ourselves while we are trying to balance.

If February was about endurance, March is about emergence.
So this month, notice the small shifts — the moment you catch yourself smiling for no particular reason.

I look forward to being back soon and sharing a space full of energy with you all again.

 

The Promised Recipe
Breakfast Potato Pancakes

Ingredients

• 140g floury potatoes
• 50g self-raising flour
• ½ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
• 1 large egg
• 4 tablespoons milk
• 3 spring onions, chopped
• 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
• Knob of butter

Method

Boil the potatoes in salted water until tender. Drain thoroughly, mash, and allow to cool.
Place the cooled mash in a bowl with the flour and bicarbonate of soda.
Whisk the egg with the milk and seasoning, then tip into the bowl and whisk until smooth. Stir in the spring onions.
Heat half the oil and butter in a non-stick frying pan until sizzling. Spoon in half the batter to make 3 pancakes. Cook on each side until browned and set underneath. Use the remaining oil and butter to cook the final 3 pancakes.

Enjoy!

FEBRUARY 2026

The new Tuesday evening classes has got off to a lovely start.

A small group that enjoy ending the day with an engaging class to revive and relax   

February Yoga: Returning to the Light

February often feels like a pause between seasons.  In yoga, this month invites us to do the same — to settle, to listen, and to move with intention rather than urgency.

This is a time when many people feel tired, flat, or impatient for spring. Nature reminds us that growth doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s about conserving energy, tending to the roots, and trusting the process.

A Month for Steadiness

February offers something kinder. It encourages us to return to our practice not out of obligation, but out of curiosity and care. This is a time to choose steadiness over speed, depth over display, and presence over performance.

The cold can make us brace, tighten, and hold more than we realise. February yoga is a chance to melt some of that winter armour.

Even the simplest practices — a mindful walk, a stretch before bed, a moment of stillness with a cup of tea — become part of the yoga of February.

This is a month for inner work. A Gentle Turning Toward Spring

By the end of February, the light has noticeably changed. Snowdrops appear. Birds begin to test their morning songs. Something in us responds.. Breathing deeply. Reconnecting with what supports us.

One of the quiet joys of February is practising together. The warmth of a shared room, the familiar faces, the sense of continuity — these things matter. They remind us that yoga is not just a personal journey but a communal one.

Thank you for showing up, for moving, breathing, laughing, and learning together. These small acts of presence create a steady thread through the year.

A Thought to Carry into March

Notice the small shifts.

The extra minute of daylight.

The way your breath feels a little fuller.

The strength that arrives quietly.

February teaches us that transformation doesn’t need to be loud. It just needs to be steady.