Cultivating Peace in the Fire

A practice of presence and powerful truth with Susanna Barkataki and Reggie Hubbard.

I had the gift of sitting in circle at the Enraged to Engage workshop held in Washington, DC at Bhakti Yoga. It was a sacred space co-led by two powerful teachers—Susanna Barkataki, international yoga culture advocate, and Reggie Hubbard, a local activist and sound practitioner. Together, they guided us through a journey of truth-telling, breath, and embodied resistance.

I found myself returning again and again to my daughters, to the world I want to help create for them—and for the generations that come after. A world where peace is not an afterthought but a practice. A world where our children are affirmed in their belonging. My vision is rooted in legacy: for my daughters, for my future grandchildren, and for the lineage I carry forward.

Activist Bernice Johnson Reagon once said, "If you're in a coalition and you're comfortable, you know it's not a broad enough coalition." I come back to that wisdom often—but I also believe in her invitation that if you are creating the world you want to live in, you will be in good company. That, too, is a form of friction—the kind that stretches us, challenges us, and demands our growth. When we allow ourselves to be uncomfortable in service of something greater, we begin to alchemize that discomfort into possibility. That is the community I long to nurture: people who are committed to making peace their practice, even when the world around us tells us we don’t belong, even when systems try to wear us down, even when everything feels too loud. Especially then.

What unfolded was more than a workshop - it was a living, breathing practice of remembering. We were reminded that peace isn’t a passive state. Peace is a practice. A discipline. A sacred commitment we make to ourselves and to the world we are co-creating.

Throughout the workshop, both Susanna and Reggie spoke of friction as a teacher, not something to be avoided but something to get intimately acquainted with. When we learn to stay with discomfort rather than flee from it, we begin to alchemize it. That friction becomes fire, and that fire becomes fuel.

If we want to live in peace, we must learn to carry it with us into the storm.

One moment that especially stayed with me was when Reggie invited us to reflect on three simple but soul-piercing questions:

• How do you define peace?

• Why is peace important?

• How do you cultivate this peace?

As I sat with these prompts, an emotional wave surged through me—grief, gratitude, rage, clarity. And then, memory.

I was transported back to a moment I hadn’t revisited in years. I was five years old, riding in the car with my father on the way to school. In a fit of road rage, a man pulled up beside us, rolled down his window, and screamed, “Go back to your country!” before throwing something at our car. My father looked at me and said, “You belong here. We belong here.”

That memory came flooding back—not just as a story from my past, but as a lived moment that shaped my understanding of what it means to hold peace as a BIPOC person. Peace isn’t just for ease—it’s for survival.

And yet, in that circle—with Susanna, Reggie, and a powerful community gathered in shared intention—I felt safe. I felt supported to go there. To feel it fully. To let it move through me.

This is what sacred space makes possible.

Today, I cultivate peace through love. Through presence. Through connection in the circles I lead—whether in a yoga studio, a community gathering, or a corporate setting. And most intimately, I return to peace through sound. Playing my alchemy crystal bowls is one of the most profound ways I transmute energy. Every vibration, every note, is a pulse of care. A whisper to the body that healing is here.

With Deep Gratitude:

This gathering was part of Susanna Barkataki’s book tour for her latest release, Ignite Your Yoga: How to Live, Practice, and Teach as an Authentic Yoga Steward. If you are seeking a path rooted in justice, reverence, and truth—please read this book. It’s a call to return yoga to its origins and reclaim it as a practice of liberation for all.

For my fellow DMV community, I lovingly invite you to explore the work of Reggie Hubbard. A sound practitioner and peace activist rooted in this region, Reggie brings a grounded, heart-centered presence. His offerings are an invitation to pause, breathe, and remember what truly matters. Whether through sound, movement, or deep conversation, his work reminds us that peace is not a destination—it’s something we can practice together, right here, right now.

Closing Reflection:

As you move through your own path of practice and presence, I offer you these questions to explore in your body and breath:

• Where in your life are you being invited to sit with discomfort instead of turning away?

• What does friction teach you about your power, your boundaries, your truth?

• What practices bring you back to a sense of inner steadiness—no matter the chaos around you?

• What legacy of peace are you tending for future generations?
  

Let these questions move through you—not just in thought, but in sensation. Let them anchor you. Let them become the quiet fire that keeps you connected to purpose, to community, and to your own becoming.

Somatic Practice: Anchoring in Peace Amidst Friction

You don’t need a full yoga mat or a quiet room to come back to yourself. Try this simple practice—wherever you are—to gently invite your body into presence and peace.

Download the Audio Practice + Handout