18/02/2026
This sums up Pete's approach and the theme of this weekend training :
"In biological systems, change takes time.
Plant an acorn at the same time a city begins building a skyscraper. Come back two years later: the skyscraper is there, impressive and huge, while the acorn is a tiny oak sapling. Come back in a hundred years: the skyscraper is falling into disrepair, and the oak has become a magnificent tree.
We are used to things happening quickly. We live in a world of instant messages, instant purchases, instant solutions. But change in the body does not follow the timetable of modern culture. It follows the slower rhythms of biology. And this is one of the reasons yoga can be such a helpful practice: it gives us a sense of temporal perspective. It reminds us that this is a life journey, not a quick fix.
Change in the body is relatively slow, and so is change in our mental and emotional processes. These are the two arenas we are interested in through yoga practice: our physical and psychological wellbeing. And what we gradually begin to notice is that these two aspects of ourselves are not just intimately related—they are, in many ways, the same process viewed from different angles. What we think and feel shapes how we hold and move our bodies, and the way we hold and move our bodies shapes what we think and feel.
The human nervous system evolved in environments that required quick, efficient responses. To survive, it had to learn from experience and remember what worked. Over time, the brain developed a strong tendency toward habit formation. Habits allow us to act without having to consciously think through every movement or decision. They make life possible. Without habits, even simple tasks would become exhausting.
But habits are conservative. They are shaped by the past, and they tend to repeat what has happened before. The nervous system is constantly predicting what is about to happen and preparing the body for it. This is extremely efficient, but it also means that yesterday’s solutions can become today’s problems.
Habits are persistent. They tend to fall into two broad categories: the ones we value and try to refine, and the ones we would rather leave behind. Unhelpful habits usually carry a faint sense of friction—either in the body or in our social behaviour. We notice them as small or large discomforts. In some sense, habits keep dragging us back into past behaviours: we tense our shoulders, clench our jaw, hold our breath, or make that unnecessary snippy retort. It feels familiar, and so does the discomfort it brings.
What is sometimes easy to miss in these almost reflexive responses is that we do them. They are not simply done to us. They may be unconscious, they may have formed under difficult circumstances, and they may have once been very useful. But they are still actions we are performing. And if we are performing them, there is also the possibility of doing something different.
Difficult habits often form under difficult circumstances. They are not signs of weakness or failure; they are often signs that the nervous system was doing its best to cope with a challenging situation. So if we are going to change them, we need to create conditions that make change more possible.
The first condition is a sense of safety and comfort. The nervous system does not let go of habits when it feels threatened. It holds on to them more tightly. If we feel judged, criticised, or pushed too hard, the system tends to revert to the familiar. So the atmosphere of the practice matters. We need to feel reasonably safe, supported, and not judged.
The second condition is curiosity. It is extremely helpful to substitute curiosity for self-judgement. If we simply tell ourselves that we have done something wrong, the system often tightens and becomes defensive. But if we become curious—why did I do that? what was I protecting? what happens if I try it slightly differently?—we create space for new possibilities.
Curiosity allows us to experiment. We can repeat a movement, or revisit a familiar situation, and see if it is possible to do it without the old habit. Not by force, not by willpower alone, but by changing the conditions slightly and noticing what happens.
The third condition is attention. Habits are, by definition, things we do without much awareness. So the act of bringing gentle, non-judgemental attention to what we are doing begins to loosen their grip. When we notice how we hold our breath, or how we tense our shoulders, or how we rush into a reaction, we create a small gap between the impulse and the action.
And in that small gap, something new can happen.
The fourth condition is repetition over time. Because we are biological systems, not machines, change happens gradually. Just as tissues in the body remodel in response to how they are used, habits of movement, thought, and feeling also remodel in response to new experiences. Small, consistent changes, repeated over time, tend to be far more powerful than dramatic efforts that cannot be sustained.
This is where yoga becomes particularly valuable. It provides a structured, repeatable environment in which we can notice our habits, experiment with alternatives, and do so in a relatively safe and supportive setting. We can feel how we hold ourselves, how we breathe, how we respond to effort or discomfort, and we can begin to explore different options.
Over time, these small explorations can begin to reshape our habits—not just on the mat, but in the rest of our lives as well.
So the aim of this workshop is not to fix ourselves or to force change. It is to create the conditions in which change becomes possible: safety, curiosity, attention, and repetition over time. From those conditions, new habits can slowly grow, in much the same way an acorn grows into an oak—quietly, gradually, and with a strength that lasts."
- Peter Blackaby
