Wisdom Roots Wellness

02/07/2026

02/06/2026

It’s not just humans who are starting to feel that cabin fever…

Come release some of that winter angst tomorrow at the Winter Fest! We’ll be nestled inside with a table full of merch and herbal goodies, perfect for perusing while you warm up from those many snow-luge runs.

We have new sweatshirts, thermoses, herbal tonics and body care treats to gift your sweetie or for yourself. Stop by and enjoy a fun event for the whole family.

11am-2pm at the Research Center.

#

02/05/2026

February reminds us to take our time.
To not rush the process.
To linger in the in-between.

While winter is still breathing a bitter chill, there is such a different energy to February. The light, the birdsong, the slow internal quickening. It's truly a magical month if we simple stop to notice.

By gently shifting our practices and habits during mid-winter, we can orient to this new energy while remaining anchored in body, steady in mind, and centered in heart.

Here's a few simple practices to adopt as we venture the second half of winter:

✨Evoke your inner-cat and linger in every sunbeam.

🔥Create some inner heat. Mid-winter is a great time to kick-up the exercise routine to slowly encourage muscle tone and move heavier energy.

🥕Incorporate more color into your plate. It's important that meals remain warm to protect digestive fire, but by now the body is starting to crave lighter, brighter foods. Try a carrot-ginger soup for dinner over heavier pasta dishes, or stewed apples or pears for breakfast.

🍯Oil on your skin, scalp, and hair. The dry winter days can make for some very sad skin. Abhyanga, the Ayurvedic ritual application of oil, is one of the most lavish and beneficial practices for winter. Simply warm unrefined sesame or olive oil between your hands to warm it up and apply a generous amount all over yourself. (You can also experience this treatment at the WRW studio with our in-house body care practitioner.)

🌸Lean into beauty, connection, and softness. Winter can be difficult and ruthless. Intentionally inviting heart-centered experiences can bring more agency to navigating these hard months. Allow yourself to be taken by simple delights.

We'll dive into the nuances of this season from an Ayurvedic perspective this weekend with our online Winter Wellness Workshop, Sunday 2/8 from 6-7:30. Peep at our link in the bio to find out more. 💫

02/04/2026

Never Miss a Sunset, a book I read once or twice in my tween years, has seared itself into my memory. It’s not the plot, but the title - which stared out at me from my bookshelf for many years - that penetrated. The protagonist was a teenager, the oldest daughter of a poor farming family, who resented caring for her younger siblings. It was a hardscrabble existence, her father was gruff and severe, her mother constantly pregnant and beleaguered. It is not great literature, and you can guess the moral from the title. But the idea stuck with me.

My friend’s father died last week, and at his funeral I learned, because each person who spoke mentioned it, that Sam treasured every sunset. He died in his sleep, in bed, at 95, and lived an active and engaged life, full of accomplishments and adventures. But it turns out his greatest legacy, as articulated by his granddaughter, may be his reminder to appreciate each day, to do something as simple as sit and watch the sunset.

When my children were young, we lived in an old farmhouse, perched on a ridge 2,017 feet above sea level, with no protection from the prevailing winds blasting in from the west. The house had only one west-facing window (in a room that was more cold storage than living quarters), in spite of a spectacular view in that direction, so I missed a lot of sunsets in those days. But occasionally the brilliant sky would catch someone’s attention, and we would all rush out to marvel at it; or I might steal away by myself, face the color, take a few slow breaths, let my shoulders relax, my belly soften. I would remember the title of that book from my youth, and wonder how many tired souls had stood on our hill at the end of a hard day, letting drop all the troubles of the world, absorbed in the beauty of the wide open sky.



https://savitrisarahnelson.substack.com/p/never-miss-a-sunset

01/28/2026

A snowstorm, at least one with plenty of warning and out into which you don’t need to venture, is like a holiday, a surprise sacred respite from the usual overly-scheduled lives most of us live.

In my Pilates class, I teach a position called Constructive Rest Pose, in which you lie on your back with knees bent, arms at the sides, palms up, feeling the soles of the feet against the floor, relaxing the thighs and sensing the sacrum melting into the mat; the shoulder blades flat and wide, softly separated. Arms and hands relaxed; neck, face, throat, easy; feeling the heaviness of the head dropping into gravity’s pull. An important cue is “Do Nothing.” I exhort people to spend a few minutes on the ground everyday, relaxing, observing, breathing - at least that.

The storm created an opportunity, not to do nothing, perhaps, but to settle into slow, non-accomplishment mode. I lay on the couch and read long segments of a book; I watched at length the birds gathering around the feeder, the fine snow swirling down and piling up.

Relaxing into the timeless feeling of the day, I also pulled out a mandolin. It was left here by a friend a couple years ago in the hopes I might take it up, and even though I’ve never played one before, an app helped me tune it and youtube taught me how to play a simple tune and pick out several chords. I’ve heard that boredom sparks creativity, and though I wasn’t bored, the sense of being at loose ends, with plenty of time on my hands, opened up a new little piece of the world.

As I hunkered down, which was the right thing to do, the people of Minneapolis, fueled by warm-hearted solidarity, white hot rage, and deep grief, gathered to protest the ICE storm in their city, also the right thing to do. As I broke trail through a couple feet of snow on my snowshoes after the storm, hard work, I pondered the fact that it’s time for me to get myself to another protest, a kind of hard work I don’t savor, but seems required now.

Do nothing, do something. Inhale, exhale. Take time alone in the quiet woods, gather together with fellow humans. The pull of muscles on bones makes them stronger.

https://savitrisarahnelson.substack.com/p/staying-home

01/23/2026

As I pause to take in the surroundings, the crunch of my spikes on the icy trail gives way to the sound of my breath, then an awareness of my heartbeat. And then, a thrum from the frozen lake, as though someone has gently plucked a single string on a bass. When the ice is free of snow, the lake burps and groans and hums. But I couldn’t hear it until I stopped walking.

I have been listening and re-listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s *All the Way to the River*, the account of the trip she and her partner took with love, codependence, addiction, and recovery, and Gilbert’s ongoing efforts to maintain emotional sobriety. The aspect of the story that keeps pulling me back is Gilbert’s capacity to hear words spoken to her by God. I have no way of knowing if these communications come from the cosmic consciousness, Gilbert’s own deepest discerning intelligence (buddhi in yoga-speak), or her imagination, but it doesn’t matter, because when she gets quiet and listens interiorly, she gets good advice.

I have experienced what Quakerism calls “leadings” or “way opening,” when a path forward laid itself at my feet and made a decision easy to make. Yoga would describe this as being in tune with rtam, the flow of the universe, and you know it when you feel it, like drifting downstream on an easy current rather than struggling against it. If this is to be the closest I come to hearing the voice of God, it is enough. However, I am curious what it would be like to hear actual words or instructions whispered in my ear by the great I AM.

The only thing I know for sure is that I can’t force it, but it’s a good guess that I’ll increase my chances by quieting the babbling of my mind. When I meditate, I mentally repeat a mantra, so even though my mind is focused, it is not silent. The moment by the lake, when I stood still and the already-present murmurings of the ice broke through my awareness, gave me an idea of what it might feel like to suddenly perceive the still small voice of the Great Mystery. That sensation keeps on echoing.

“Perhaps/ The Truth depends on a walk around a lake” - Wallace Stevens, “Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction”



https://savitrisarahnelson.substack.com/p/stand-still-and-listen

01/19/2026

Taking a lesson from the felines today and spending ample time in a sunbeam ☀️

January has been such a beautiful month so far of keeping good balance between celebration and rest. We’ve also been quietly busy behind the scenes, planning out allll sorts of fun collaborations, scheming new classes, coordinating with guest teachers, marinating on workshop ideas, and carefully stitching together new body care offerings. This is what January is for - daydreaming, vision-casting, and stumbling on inspiration while romping through the fresh cold snow.

As we move toward Imbolc at the beginning of February - the halfway point of between winter + spring - we’ll be sharing about all the seeds we’re tending. Our newsletter subscribers will be first in-the-know, so drop us your email to be added. In the meantime, we’re wishing you many moments of quiet and warmth.

*Reminder of our Winter Class Schedule*
TUES ~ Breath-based Yoga, 9-10:15am
WEDS ~ Pilates Mat, 5-6pm
THURS ~ Breath-based Yoga, 9-10:15am
SAT ~ Pilates Mat, 9-10am

See you soon ☃️

01/16/2026

On birthday wishes manifested, releasing control, climbing mountains, celebrating with friends… 🎂

Details in the blog:

https://savitrisarahnelson.substack.com/p/birthday-presence

💖

01/12/2026

how long it feels since we’ve had a normal, uninterrupted schedule… 🙃🤭

We’re back at it! No class cancelations / substitutions / amendments or changes! Our 2026 regular group class schedule is as follows:

TUESDAY: breath-based yoga, 9-10:15am
WEDNESDAY: pilates mat, 5-6pm
THURSDAY: breath-based yoga, 9-10:15am
SATURDAY: pilates mat, 9-10am

We’re also hoping to add some new classes & offerings for 2026 - (woot woot)! Drop us a line to share what you’d love to see, including ideal time. We have a few ideas up our sleeves, but we wanna hear from ~you~.

Want some hands-on nourishment? Emileigh’s books have availability for abhyanga, Ayurveda’s renowned hot-oil treatment. (Aka the perfect winter healing indulgence.) All the details found in our b1o.

We can’t wait to see you back in the studio 🪴

01/09/2026

We’re in the mountains! 🏔️

No Pilates tomorrow (1/10) while we’re away celebrate Sarah’s birthday weekend in one of our favorite places doing some of our favorite things. We’ll be back extra refreshed beginning with Tuesday yoga. Come stretch with us 🌀

Picture 2 from our first winter adk sojourn back in 2020 🥲🥰

12/31/2025

Sending you all peaceful wishes to these final moments of 2025, and a New Year filled with hope, connection, and possibility. We extend deep appreciation to each of you for the curiosity, trust, and support offered to us as we close out or our first full calendar year of learning, growing, and operating this little sanctuary of a studio in our beloved Hilltowns. 2025 offered so many opportunities for growth, and we’re excited to cast our visions into the New Year, creating even more opportunities for connection and inner-remembrance. Thank you thank you thank you.

~Special New Year’s Day Pop-Up~
For those who are looking for an intentional start to 2026, we invite you to join us at the studio tomorrow, 1/1, at noon for a special New Year’s blessing and meditation. This is a free offering of kinship and quiet, simple ceremony to welcome this new moment in community.

blessings, all ✨

12/29/2025

Greetings, from the depths of the strange liminal time between Christmas and New Year. These days tend to blend together in a hushed expanse of slumber and quiet tendings, where little is asked for and little is expected. This short span of time is necessary; the hours meld together like that of the slow-simmered spices infusing their medicine into the soup pot warming on the stove, or like woodsmoke filling the air on these early winter mornings. Blurred, subtle, and potent all the same.

As we spend these last days of 2025 in reflection and gratitude, we hope that you’re taking good care, finding deep rest, and leaning into the slow pace of winter.

Our class schedule is slim this week, though encourage you to join Melissa who will be subbing for Tuesday morning yoga (tomorrow, 12/30 @ 9am). This will be the last class of 2025, with our regular class schedule resuming with Pilates mat this Saturday, 1/3.
As always, all our current class updates are posted on our website.

May the end of 2025 be one of peace and quietude. We look forward to seeing you in the New Year.

Love,
Emileigh & Sarah