Imbolc and the wisdom of sthira sukham for system change

Practising the capacity to stay with uncertainty, effort, and ease

Last week, the theme for my yoga community was Imbolc, the ancient festival that marks the subtle turning from winter towards spring. It is a celebration of emergence and a threshold moment where we can pause to recognise that something is shifting but we can’t quite see it yet. The dawn chorus is a little louder, the buds are forming on the trees, flowers peak out and the light is longer and yet… winter lingers, as spring hesitates…

Imbolc invites us to hold both light and dark, which feels like an appropriate lens for the time we are in. We are being asked to learn how to stay present in the in-between.

This is tricky for us….why do our brains resist this in betweenness?

The human brain is exquisitely designed to keep us safe as it looks for patterns, shortcuts, and familiarity. Beliefs and habits become efficient pathways that reduce uncertainty and cognitive load.

The human brain is astounding but in its ultimate goal to keep us safe, it can also be obstructive. In times of threat or overwhelm, it seeks certainty and gravitates towards what feels known and predictable. In the modern world, this tendency is amplified as algorithmically curated feeds and confirmation bias keep us reinforcing existing beliefs and worldviews. Differences and in betweenness can feel threatening and complexity can feel unsafe.

From a neurological perspective, I get it, but from a societal perspective, it’s a bit of a problem because the issues we are trying to navigate and solve - the climate and biodiversity crisis, inequality, and systemic change, all require to us stay open, curious, and engaged with perspectives that challenge us.

Stick with me....

This is where yoga philosophy offers something wonderfully practical. The principle of sthira sukham āsanam is often translated as ‘steady and easeful posture’, but at its heart, it is about learning to inhabit the dynamic tension between effort and ease.

Too much effort creates rigidity, and too much ease leads to collapse. We practise staying present with sensation, adjusting rather than reacting and this is not just a physical skill, we are training the nervous system to feel safe. This teaches the brain that discomfort does not necessarily equal danger. This capacity then translates directly into how we show up in difficult conversations and uncertain times and transitions.

Most resistance to change is not apathy, but overwhelm or fear, or maybe even a lack of knowledge or confidence. When people feel unsafe or unseen, they retreat and cling more tightly to familiar narratives as a protective response. So, if we want to facilitate systems change, we have to support people to expand their capacity to sit with uncertainty, tension and differences.

Practices that train the nervous system, slow reactive responses, notice beliefs without being dominated by them and stay present with discomfort are, therefore, foundational personal and societal foundations for change.

Remembering as an act of resistance

In class, we spoke about how attuning to ancient ways of knowing is an act of resistance. Seasonal wisdom, embodied practice, and ecological awareness and knowledge reconnect us to something much bigger than the individual self. They counteract the fragmentation and separation that so many of our current systems reinforce.

A sense of belonging, whether it be to a place, a community, a body, is one of the most powerful antidotes to polarisation. That’s why my mantra is ‘we are nature’ (inspired by the wonderful Satish Kumar). People who feel a sense of belonging are far more willing to care - about others, about place, about environment, and people who feel safe in uncertainty are far more comfortable with change.

What strikes me is that this is all about building capacity. Capacity to hold paradox, to stay present with discomfort and to act without certainty. Capacity to balance effort and ease - sthira and sukha - in life, not just on the mat.

If the future we are trying to create is more regenerative, more just, and more connected, then the way we learn, lead, and change must reflect that. Perhaps one of the most important skills we can cultivate right now is the ability to remain open, at the very moment when retreat feels easiest.