Not the small stuff. The big one. The story you’ve believed about yourself for so long that it stopped looking like a story and started looking like a fact.

Hi lovely. This week I’ve been walking through the third eye, the place where illusion becomes clarity. And here’s the illusion I finally saw through, after forty-three years: I believed I had no power.

I learned it young. I was hit if I didn’t listen. And, I’ve never forgotten it, I was told, “if you keep laughing, I’ll hit you more.” A little girl, punished for her joy. Do you know what a child learns from that? That her aliveness is dangerous. That the safest thing is to go quiet, go small, disappear a little. She learns she has no power, because every time she reached for it, it hurt.

It didn’t stop in childhood. The message just changed its clothes. “You’re fat and ugly. No one will marry you. Stop being fussy and just settle.” I heard that as a grown woman, from the person who was supposed to see me most clearly of all. And for a long time I believed it. I believed I had to earn love, shrink to keep the peace, and take whatever was offered, because I wasn’t worthy of choosing.

That’s the illusion. That I was powerless. That my worth was someone else’s to hand out.

Here’s what I finally saw this year, and it changed everything: the powerlessness was never real. It was the glasses I’d been given. I always had the power. I’d just handed it out, piece by piece, to everyone whose approval I was chasing, starting with the very people who taught me I didn’t have any to begin with.

The years in between were excavation. I dug through why things happened to me, turning over every stone, and for a while I dug so deep I nearly made a home down there. There is a version of searching for answers that is really just staying a prisoner to the external world, and I lived in it longer than I needed to.

But the digging gave me two truths, and they set me free.

The first: hurt people hurt people. The cruelty was never about me. Unhealed trauma doesn’t speak with kindness or compassion. It speaks from lack, from blame, from pain. The words that shaped my whole life were never a verdict on my worth. They were a symptom of someone else’s wound.

The second: over time, and with a lot of forgiveness, it has all become a blessing. Did it hurt? Absolutely, yes. But it is exactly why I do what I do now: helping women take the glasses off and come home to self-love, acceptance and care earlier in their lives than I did. I wish someone had handed me this in my twenties and thirties. I couldn’t find her then, so I became her.

And power, lovely, doesn’t live in the mind. It lives lower, in your solar plexus, the seat of your sovereignty. Clarity, the third eye, is simply what lets you finally see it was there the entire time. You cannot speak your truth as a mouse. You have to be the lion, and here’s the wild part: you already are. The lion was never something you had to become. It was something you were taught to cage.

It’s the Lions Gate season for a reason. So I’ll ask you again, and I want you to really answer: what are you not letting yourself see as true? Where have you decided you’re powerless, when the truth is you simply gave your power away?

The Third Eye · Ajna

💜 shadow: illusion, self-doubt, overthinking, the rose-coloured glasses.

💜 gift: clarity, intuition, discernment, trusting what you see even when it asks something of you.

When it’s blocked, you overthink everything and trust none of it, waiting for someone else to confirm what you already know. When it’s open, you trust the first quiet thing that rises before the noise.

💜 Goddess - Hakini · clarity, insight, the inner knowing

💜 Seed sound - OM (AUM) · the sound that opens the inner eye

💜 Element - light · illumination, the seeing itself

💜 Breath - trataka · soft, steady gazing

💜 Pose - balasana, child’s pose · the third eye resting on the earth

💜 Oil - frankincense · the great oil of insight and stillness

💜 Herb - brahmi · for a clear, quiet mind

💜 Practice - viveka · discernment, telling the real from the illusion

💜 Affirmation · I trust what I already know.

Your cycle knows this chapter too: the days before you bleed, when the veil thins and you suddenly see what isn’t working. That premenstrual clarity isn’t hormones making you difficult. It’s your third eye, wide open. Stop apologising for it.

A small practice. Tonight, ask one question: “What do I already know, that I’ve been pretending not to?” Don’t answer with your head. Breathe low and slow, and let the knowing rise. It’s almost always the first thing that comes, the thing you immediately want to dismiss. That flicker you want to argue with is the glasses coming off.

She’s here

At the third eye you’ll meet Indie, the part of you who sees clearly and trusts it. She lives in the In Her Rhythm © app, and she’s live now. 💜

And this very week we’re walking the free seven-day journey on Instagram, one companion a day until the Lions Gate opens on 8/8. Comment PORTAL on any post (@iamaradhanaarya) and I’ll bring you into the community, wallpapers, meditations and all.

An invitation

The story that you’re powerless was never true. It was a pair of glasses someone handed you a long time ago. You’re allowed to take them off. You’re allowed to see clearly. And you’re allowed, finally, to own the power that was yours the entire time.

I spent forty-three years believing I had none. I was wrong. And so, I suspect, are you.

Take the glasses off, lovely. And roar.

With love, grace & gratitude, Aradhana x

P.S. Frankincense, the oil of this very chapter, has been finding me all week without my asking. First at a fire ceremony under the full moon, then again at today’s sound bath. In my kinesiology book it marks the move from vulnerable to protected. When the chapter you’re in starts leaving you notes, read them and smile ☺️

Where you’re suddenly bold enough to say the thing - send the message, make the call, tell someone exactly what you want, or exactly what they’re doing that isn’t okay. The words that sat stuck in your throat all month just… arrive. And sometimes it’s the truest, cleanest thing you’ve ever said.

And sometimes, a week later, you read it back and think: oh. Maybe I didn’t need to send that one.

That’s not you being too much, or too emotional, or dramatic. That’s your body moving through its seasons - and learning to read them is one of the quietest superpowers a woman has. Because your voice isn’t equally loud all month. And knowing when it roars changes everything about how - and to whom - you use it.

Hi lovely. Let’s talk about the throat.

Because truth comes in two sizes, and this chapter is about both. There’s the loud kind - the lion 🦁 kind. And then there’s the small kind, the one most of us get wrong for years: the “I’m fine” kind.

Because here’s what I’ve come to understand: the biggest lies I’ve ever told weren’t the bold things I fired off in my lion week. They were the little ones I whispered to keep the peace. I’m fine. It’s fine. Whatever you want. No, honestly, it’s okay. I’ve said those words with my whole body still holding something I hadn’t let myself say. And every time I swallowed it, it didn’t disappear. It just settled in my throat and stayed there.

The throat is the bridge - between what you feel and what the world gets to know about you. When you keep swallowing your truth to be easy, to be liked, to not make a fuss, that bridge closes. And a woman with a closed throat isn’t more agreeable. She’s just more unheard, often by herself most of all.

This year, that started to change. And it didn’t look the way I expected.

I thought finding my voice would be some grand, cinematic moment. It wasn’t. It looked like sitting in a meeting full of senior people and saying, calmly, this isn’t working, and here’s why. It looked like telling colleagues far above me that the way something was being handled wasn’t okay and not softening it into nothing to make myself smaller. It looked like running a project that required me to say the hard thing, again and again, to people who weren’t used to hearing it.

The old version of me would not have been comfortable with any of that. She would have hinted. She would have hoped someone else would say it. She would have gone home and replayed it and wished she’d spoken. This year, I just… spoke. And the room went quiet, and the world didn’t end. It rarely does.

It also looked like no. No to events that didn’t align with my values. No to plans that pulled me out of my own rhythm. No to rooms I didn’t want to be in, even when saying yes would have been easier and kept everyone happy. I needed a lot of quiet this week - a lot of introvert time - precisely because I’d been using my voice so much out in the world. Speaking your truth costs something. You have to come home and refill.

But here’s the part I didn’t see coming. The most important thing I said this year, I didn’t say to anyone else. I said it to myself.

It was the quiet, honest conversation about what I actually want. Not what I should want. Not what looks right, or what would be sensible, or what someone else would choose for me. What I want - and why I want it, and how I want to show up while I go and get it. Who I want to be. Who I actually want beside me. What I’m no longer willing to settle for.

That conversation was harder than any meeting. Because it’s easy to speak truth to a boardroom. It’s much harder to sit with yourself and admit what you really long for - especially when part of you has spent years pretending you don’t need much at all.

And I’ll be honest with you, because this newsletter has only ever worked when I am: this month my body has been loud. There’s a phase in every cycle - I call it my inner summer, and it’s ovulation where you become your most visible, most expressive, most magnetic self. Your voice comes easily. You feel lit from the inside. My own app says it plainly: summer is your visible season. Say the thing, send the message, take up the room. And it’s true - this is the phase where the words finally come.

But I know this season in myself, and I’ll tell you what it’s really taught me. This is exactly the time of the month when I have always felt bold enough to say my heart’s deepest desire out loud - to finally tell someone what I actually wanted from them. Sometimes that boldness was a gift: the truth I’d been sitting on for months would just arrive, clean and clear. And sometimes it was the version where I’d want to march up to someone and say you’re being a pain, and you won’t even face what this actually is between us - the raw, unfiltered truth, fired off in the heat of it.

So here’s the double edge, and it’s the real throat lesson buried inside the summer: your voice is loudest exactly when your discernment is quietest. The gift is that you can finally speak. The work is knowing which truths to send, and which to simply let yourself feel. An open heart and a lit-up body will reach for connection - but not always the right connection. And so, in that heat, speaking your truth sometimes means saying the honest thing to yourself instead of firing the easy thing at someone else. I want to be held - and not by just anyone. I can want, and still wait. My longing is real, and it’s not an emergency. That’s a no, too. Maybe the most important no there is - the one you say to yourself, in your own defence, right when everything in you wants to hit send.

Shine while you’re lit, the app tells me. And then, in the same breath: rest before the turn. Say the thing, take up the room - and know which things are yours to keep.

So that’s what the throat has been teaching me this year: that my voice isn’t just for meetings and boundaries and the word no. It’s for the truth I’ve been too polite, too tired, or too scared to say - out loud, or even just to myself.

The Throat · Vishuddha

💙 shadow: the swallowed truth, “I’m fine,” people-pleasing, the yes your mouth says while your body says no.

💙 gift: your true voice - clear, kind, unafraid. The yes you mean and the no you can finally speak.

Your throat centre sits at the base of your neck - the narrow gate between the heart and the head, between what you feel and what you say. It’s where feeling becomes voice.

When it’s blocked, you keep the peace at your own expense. You say whatever you want and resent it later. You swallow the hard truth to avoid the hard conversation. You go quiet in the meeting, agreeable at the dinner, fine at every check-in and slowly you stop being able to hear your own knowing under all the accommodating.

When it’s free, you can say the true thing and stay kind. You can disagree without shrinking. You can name what isn’t working. You can say no without a paragraph of apology. And this is the tender one you can tell yourself the truth about what you actually want.

The Throat, in detail

💙 Goddess · Saraswati - she of speech, music, wisdom; the sacred voice

💙 Seed sound · HAM - the bīja that opens the throat

💙 Element · ether - space, spaciousness, the room a truth needs to be spoken

💙 Breath · ujjayi (ocean breath) - the breath you can hear, made in the throat itself

💙 Pose · matsyasana (fish) - the throat lifted and opened to the sky

💙 Oil · blue chamomile - for the truth that needs to be spoken gently

💙 Herb · licorice root - the old remedy for a tired, over-held voice

💙 Yama · satya - truthfulness; the vow to stop lying, first of all to yourself

💙 Affirmation · It is safe for me to speak. My voice matters, and so does my no.

The season it pairs with: your inner summer - ovulation. The most expressive, magnetic, confident phase, when your voice comes easily and you feel most seen. Say the thing, send the message, take up the room - and shine while you’re lit. Just remember to keep speaking truth to yourself underneath all that heat, and to rest before the turn

A small practice, if you’d like one.

Tonight, put a hand gently at the base of your throat. Take one slow ujjayi breath - the kind you can hear, like a soft ocean. Then ask yourself one question and answer it out loud, even in a whisper: What have I been saying I’m fine about, that I’m not? You don’t have to fix it. You don’t have to tell anyone yet. You just have to let yourself hear you say it. That’s where the voice comes back - not in the boardroom, but in the moment you stop lying to yourself.

A few questions to sit with this week.

💙 Where are you saying yes with your mouth and no with your body?

💙 What truth have you been swallowing to keep the peace - and what is it costing you?

💙 If you weren’t afraid of the reaction, what would you finally say?

💙 And the deepest one: what do you actually want and have you ever said it out loud, even just to yourself?

She’s here

Coming home to yourself - chakra by chakra is exactly why In Her Rhythm © exists, the app that guides and supports you through all seasons of life. (Google play coming soon)

💙 At the throat you’ll meet Lark - the part of you who remembers how to sing her own truth, clearly and without apology. Twenty-eight days, at your own pace. Come and find your voice with her.

And from August, the podcast and a collection of meditations arrive - made to help you get still enough to finally hear what you’ve been trying to say.

An invitation

I’ll leave you with this: your voice was never too much. The truth in your throat isn’t a burden to manage - it’s you, waiting to be heard. And you’re allowed to say it slowly, kindly, imperfectly. Start with the smallest true thing. Start by telling yourself.

The world can handle your honesty far better than you’ve been led to believe. And the people who can’t, well, that’s information too.

So, what would it look like to stop saying I’m fine this week, and say the true thing instead? Even if the only one listening is you.

See you on the flip side.

With love, grace & gratitude, Aradhana x

Something I’ve noticed about myself: I always seem to live the chapter before I write it. This week I’ve been walking through the heart - and I didn’t plan that. It just kept arriving.

So let’s talk about grief. Because grief has been my biggest teacher this year, and I don’t think we speak about it honestly enough.

Here’s the first thing I’ve learned: to feel grief means you have loved. The ache isn’t a malfunction - it’s the proof. You don’t grieve what you didn’t care about. So the depth of the ache is simply the depth of the love, showing itself the only way it can once the thing is gone.

And here’s the second thing: we bypass it. Constantly. There are seven stages of grief, and most of us try to skip to the end by saying “I’m ok.” I’ve done it. I’ve said “I’m fine” while my whole body was still holding something I hadn’t let myself feel. But grief doesn’t leave because you’re busy. It just waits.

You have to feel it to heal it. There’s no way around it - only through.

This year, I let myself sit in it properly for the first time.

I loved someone the deepest I have ever loved anyone. Letting that relationship go broke something open in me. But here’s what I didn’t expect: letting it go healed my relationship with my family too.

Because underneath the grief for him was a much older grief, one I’d been carrying quietly for years. I had been grieving a version of family I wanted. And what I got was something different. Not less love - different love. For a long time I couldn’t see that, because I was measuring what I had against a picture in my head.

Sitting with that grief, the younger version of me finally got to process what not feeling supported, not feeling loved actually meant to her. That girl got to be heard. And in hearing her, something loosened.

I want to be really clear: it’s not that my parents didn’t love me. They did, and they do. They just didn’t love me in the way I had decided love was supposed to look.

And do you know where I got that idea? Bollywood. I grew up on those films - the grand gestures, the declarations in the rain, the running through airports, love announced loudly enough for a whole village to hear. That was my template. So I spent years measuring the quiet, practical, undemonstrative love of my family against a three-hour epic - and finding it wanting.

Now I understand it better. Love doesn’t always arrive as a song. Sometimes it’s a lunch packed, a bill quietly paid, a worry carried without a word, a “have you eaten?” text. It was always there. I just wasn’t reading the language.

And realising that has completely changed how I see romantic love too.

Because if I was measuring love against a fantasy, then of course the men I chased were the ones who looked like the fantasy - dramatic, charged, and reliably unavailable. I’ve spent a lot of my life reaching for people who couldn’t reach back. And here’s the honest part, the bit I can only say now: I was unavailable too. You don’t chase the unavailable unless some part of you feels safer that way.

These days I’m letting myself meet men who show me the depth of what love can look like. Not the performance of it - the depth. And I can feel the difference in my body now, immediately. That’s a gift grief gave me, not a skill I studied.

So the two things that healed me most this year:

Learning to sit with grief. Not fix it, not rush it, not “I’m ok” it. Sit with it.

And realising I have been loved. All along. Just not in the language I was taught to expect.

And it isn’t only family, or only romance. Some of the deepest love in my life right now lives in my friendships. I have the most extraordinary women around me — kind, nurturing, generous, properly present. We hold each other well. And honestly? They have been my reference point. Being loved well by my women is how I learned what love actually feels like in the body - which is exactly why I can now tell, within seconds, when something isn’t it.

That contrast matters, lovely. You can’t recognise real love if you’ve never let yourself feel the difference. And the way through - the only way I’ve found - is acceptance (this is what it was, and it was still love) and compassion (for them, for the younger me, for the woman who kept chasing).

Because when you stop grieving the love you didn’t get, you finally have room to receive the love that’s actually here.

The Heart · Anahata

💚 shadow: grief, the ache we bypass, the armoured heart, “I’m fine.”

💚 gift: tenderness, compassion, and a heart open enough to receive.

Your heart centre sits in the middle of your chest - the bridge between the lower three chakras (body, feeling, will) and the upper three (voice, vision, spirit). It’s where you love and are loved, where you forgive, where you let people in.

When it’s blocked, you armour. You give endlessly but can’t receive. You stay busy so you don’t have to feel. You say “I’m ok” before anyone can ask twice. You keep people at exactly the distance where they can’t hurt you — and can’t hold you either.

When it’s free, you can hold the ache and stay open. You love without losing yourself. You let someone in. And this is the hard one you let yourself be given to.

The Heart, in detail

💚 Goddess · Lakshmi - grace, abundance, the love that flows freely

💚 Seed sound · YAM - the bīja that opens the chest

💚 Element · air- spacious, moving, unclenched

💚 Breath · nadi shodhana (alternate nostril) - balancing both sides, softening the middle

💚 Pose · anahatasana (melting heart) - chest to earth, the surrender that opens you

💚 Oil · rose- the great heart oil, for grief and for love

💚 Herb · arjuna - the Ayurvedic heart tonic; strength for a tender organ

💚 Brahmavihara · karuna - compassion; the tender response to suffering, including your own

💚 Affirmation · I am safe to receive love.

The season it pairs with: your inner autumn - the luteal phase. Turning inward, letting go, the tenderness that comes as things fall away.

A small practice, if you’d like one.

Tonight, rest one hand on the centre of your chest and leave it there. Don’t fix anything. Find whatever ache is living underneath old or new, big or small and instead of pushing it away, say quietly: this ache is proof I loved. Let that be enough. Breathe low and slow into your palm, and let the chest soften rather than brace. If tears come, they’re not a setback - they’re the thing moving. And when you’re ready, add one more line: and I am safe to be loved back.

A few questions to sit with this week.

💚 What grief have you been walking past by saying “I’m ok”?

💚 What version of love did you decide was the real one — and where did you learn it?

💚 Where has love been showing up for you in a language you weren’t reading?

💚 If your heart were safe to open, what would you let in?

She’s here

Coming home to yourself chakra by chakra is exactly why In Her Rhythm © exists, and she’s live.

🌸 At the heart you’ll meet Willow, the Tender - the part of you who knows how to hold the ache without hardening. Twenty-eight days, at your own pace. Come and sit with her.

Download it via the app store here

Google play coming soon - DM to join the waitlist

And from August, the podcast and a collection of meditations arrive - made to help you get still enough to hear your own knowing.

An invitation

I’ll leave you with this: the ache you’re carrying isn’t a sign that something’s wrong with you. It’s a sign that you loved. And you’re allowed to put it down slowly, with tenderness, without rushing to be fine.

Grief cracked me open this year. But it also handed me back my family, my discernment, and a heart finally open enough to let someone in who aligns with my values and makes me feel like home.

So - what would it look like to be tender with yourself this week? Not fixed. Tender.

See you on the flip side.

With love, grace & gratitude,

Aradhana x

The quiet thing that’s been happening underneath all the loud things - the app launching, the new clients, the events that light me up - is this: somewhere along the way, I stopped caring what anyone thinks. Not in a hard, defended way. In a soft, free, care-factor-zero way. I started showing up as myself, unapologetically. And I have never been happier.

But being yourself isn’t only about dropping the performance. It’s about rooting into the real thing underneath it. For me, so much of that is my culture - I am Indian, and my Indianness isn’t a detail about me, it’s my music, my food, my spiritual heritage, the whole language my soul thinks in. This week, sparked by nothing grander than some old Indian songs that made my chest ache with belonging, I felt myself come home to it. So whatever your roots are, lovely: ground into them. They were never what held you back. They’re what hold you up.

For a long time I carried shame that was never mine. I took ownership of things that happened to me - the sexual abuse when I was a child, the visa situation, the divorce, the quiet shame of not fitting the mould of thirty-married-mortgage-children - as though they were my fault. None of it was. And sharing some of that out loud this week, I felt the first real crack: not the pain of it, the release of it. Putting shame back where it belongs - behind me, not inside me.

Here’s what I keep relearning: you cannot think your way to knowing yourself. You can only get still enough to hear yourself. Yesterday, in an AK session with Julie (my mentor), my body asked to work with an essential oil called Neroli - it’s whole medicine is choice from the stillpoint within - and the clarity it’s brought me has astonished me. Things I’d circled in my head for weeks simply resolved the moment I stopped thinking and started feeling from that deeper place.

And this is the thing I most want to help women with. You can manifest almost anything - that, honestly, isn’t the hard part. The hard part is: can you hold it? Can your nervous system, your worth, your sense of deserving actually keep the beautiful thing once it arrives, without shrinking or quietly handing it back? That’s the real work. It’s built in stillness, in rootedness, in releasing everything that ever told you that you weren’t allowed to have it. (And I don’t do it alone - I have a few remarkable women who guide me while I guide others. I am both held and holding, and being that person for you is the privilege of my life. 🤍)

The guest house

This week, in the hush after a sound bath, Michael read The Guest House by Rumi aloud - and it landed straight into the middle of everything I teach. Which is exactly why it’s perfect for this week’s letter.

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival… The dark thought, the shame, the malice - meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.

Meet the shame at the door - laughing - and invite it in. Not banish it. Not perform your way past it. Welcome it.

Because this is the whole of the work, lovely. Every feeling that arrives - joy, grief, guilt, fear, shame - is a guest, and not one of them has come to ruin you. Each, as Rumi says, has been sent “as a guide.” The shadow is never the enemy; it’s the visitor carrying the gift. Fear arrives and hands you safety. Guilt arrives and hands you permission. Grief arrives and hands you tenderness. And shame - the guest we most want to turn away at the door - arrives carrying your sovereignty.

You don’t heal by exiling the hard feelings. You heal by welcoming them, letting them clear the house, and receiving what they came to give. Which brings us, gently, to this week’s guest.

The more I tap into my sacral chakra, the more I’ve been able to expand the gift of self-worth that the solar plexus has to offer.

The Solar Plexus · Manipura

🧡 shadow: shame, self-doubt, the smallness, the endless proving.

🧡 gift: worth, sovereignty, your clean yes and cleaner no.

Your solar plexus sits in the soft space above the navel - the body’s fire. It governs will, worth, confidence and personal power: your right not just to survive, but to stand in your own life and take up space in it.

When it’s blocked, it burns low and turns on you. It whispers who do you think you are, don’t take up space, prove yourself first, keep the peace. It shows up as over-explaining, over-giving, people-pleasing, a knot in the stomach before a hard conversation, and a shame that hums quietly beneath everything.

When it’s free, your worth simply isn’t up for debate. You say your clean NO without guilt. You lead yourself. Your fire warms without burning - sovereign, never aggressive.

And lovely - if you were ever handed the belief that you had to earn your place, that your worth was conditional on being useful or good or small enough, this is where we gently give you back the truth: you are already enough. Not once you’ve proved it. Now. 🤍

The Solar Plexus, in detail

🌻 Goddess · Durga - she who stands, unshakeable, in her own power

🌻 Seed sound · RAM - the bīja that kindles the inner fire

🌻 Element · fire - will, warmth, transformation

🌻 Breath · kapalabhati - the breath that stokes the flame

🌻 Pose · virabhadrasana - the warrior, standing tall in your own strength

🌻 Oil · ginger - warmth, courage, the fire of your yes

🌻 Herb · ashwagandha - strength and steadiness under pressure

🌻 Brahmavihara · upekkha - equanimity; steady in yourself, swayed by no one’s approval

🌻 Affirmation · I am already enough.

The season it pairs with: your inner summer - the ovulatory phase. Peak energy, radiance, confidence; your fullest, most visible power.

A small practice, if you’d like one.

Tonight, sit or lie somewhere quiet and rest a hand just above your navel - the soft place where your fire lives. Breathe low and slow, and feel your own warmth gather under your palm. You don’t have to earn this. Just visit. And when you’re ready, say it softly, only to yourself: I am already enough. Not once you’ve fixed yourself. Not once you’ve proved it. Now. Notice whatever rises - resistance, tears, a little warmth, nothing at all - and meet it the way you’d meet a friend. Not with force. With listening.

A few questions to sit with this week. (Notebook, notes app, or the back of an envelope - wherever your heart writes.)

🌻 Where have you been making yourself smaller - to keep the peace, or keep the approval?

🌻 What have you been over-proving, over-explaining, over-giving - and what might soften if you simply didn’t?

🌻 What shame have you been carrying that was never yours to hold?

🌻 If your fire could speak, what boundary would it ask you to finally keep?

You don’t need the answers yet. Let the questions move in their own time. The body always does.

She’s here

Coming home to yourself - santosha, contentment is the whole reason In Her Rhythm© exists. And I get to tell you: she’s here.
The app is live.

🌸 Seven chakras, twenty-eight days each, at your pace, with one of the Innerkind girlie, seven little parts of you - waiting at every door. Consider this the launch party. Come in, meet Ruby at the root, and walk the seven, all the way home. 🧡

Download it here on the App store. Google play coming soon.

And watch this space - because from August, I’ll be releasing the podcast and a collection of meditations, all made to help you get still enough to hear your own inner knowing. This is only the beginning.

An invitation

A small secret about how this letter even reaches you: I never write it in one sitting. I prep it on a Sunday morning, then I go and live my day - a few hours of socialising, self-care, and beyond - and I come back to it settled. It always lands better; my writing arrives in a way it couldn’t have before I let it simmer through reflection, in a moment of stillness and on the yoga mat - whether in a sound bath or in a downward dog.

Because I have to practise what I offer you: get still, move the body, and only then listen for what’s true.

So I’ll leave you with this: what shame are you ready to hand back? Where could you root down into who you truly are? And can you get still - even for five minutes - quiet enough to hear what you already know?

Because you can manifest anything. The real question is whether you can hold it. Let’s build the kind of rootedness that can.

See you on the flip side.

With love, grace & gratitude,

Aradhana x

Let me start with the thing that made me laugh this week - the kind of laugh you only reach after you’ve finished being frustrated about it.

I built an app about flow. About softening, surrendering, letting life move through you instead of white-knuckling it. And then the universe, with impeccable comic timing, decided I needed to actually practise - by refusing to tell me when my own app goes live. 😅

In Her Rhythm was meant to arrive this Monday. It’s built, it’s beautiful, it’s submitted… and now it’s sitting quietly in Apple’s hands, somewhere behind a long Fourth-of-July weekend in America, releasing exactly when it’s meant to and not a moment sooner. I don’t get to choose. I get to wait.

And of course - of course - that’s this whole week’s teaching handed straight back to me. Because the chakra we’re walking together this Sunday is the sacral: the home of feeling, creativity, and flow. And flow has one non-negotiable rule. You cannot force it. You can only stop damming it up.

I happen to know that rule in my body more intimately than I’d like.

Women hold so much of their feeling in their hips.

The hips are a storehouse. They sit at the sacral centre - the place of feeling, creativity, sensuality, flow - and they’re where we quietly file the things we didn’t have the safety to feel at the time. The grief we swallowed. The anger we were too “good” to express. The old aches, some of them from very young. We tuck them low in the body, and we keep moving. We get very good at moving.

Until one day the storehouse is full.

the exact thing I’m writing about - living inside the app. 🧡

There was a season, a few years ago, when mine simply… closed it’s doors. I couldn’t walk. Not “couldn’t walk far” - couldn’t walk. I’d get ten minutes down my beloved beach path and have to turn back, because I knew if I went any further I wouldn’t make it home. My body, patient as she’d been for over thirty years, finally drew a line in the sand - literally - and said: not one more step until you listen to me.

I’d love to tell you the healing was one cinematic breakthrough. It wasn’t. It was reiki, and honest conversations, and a lot of yin yoga held long and low in the hips, and the daily, deeply unglamorous willingness to feel about five percent more than I had the day before. Slowly, the storehouse began to let go. And a body that weeks earlier couldn’t reach the end of my own street carried me onto a yoga mat in Thailand - where I promptly burst into tears, this time purely from gratitude.

Even the old comfort I’d leaned on for years - my quiet way of softening feelings I couldn’t yet face - I didn’t white-knuckle my way out of. I just kept tending what was underneath it, and one day it simply had less to do. I got to gently retire her this year. About time.

Here’s what my hips taught me, and what my own app is cheerfully re-teaching me this week: you cannot rush the flow, and you cannot force the feeling. The body releases in her own time. The app releases in it’s own time. So much of what shapes us was never in our control to begin with - and neither, it turns out, is the day it all finally gets to move. My only job, then and now, is to stop gripping, and let it.

So let me ask you what I had to ask myself: where are you damming up a feeling, because you’re afraid of what might happen if you let it move?

Because here’s the sacral truth, lovely: feeling isn’t weakness. It’s the flow that moves your whole life.

The Sacral · Svadhisthana.

🧡 shadow: guilt, numbness, the feeling you swallowed.

🧡 gift: permission - to feel, to want, to create, to enjoy.

Your sacral sits just below the navel - the body’s water, it’s tide, it’s creativity. It governs feeling, pleasure, sensuality and flow: your right not just to survive, but to enjoy being alive.

When it’s blocked, it goes quiet and numb. It whispers don’t want too much, don’t feel too loudly, don’t be too much. It shows up as creative block, a flatness where joy used to be, guilt around pleasure, and a very polished “I’m fine.”

When it’s free, feeling simply moves through you and out - cleanly, without flooding you. Creativity returns. You let yourself want things. You let yourself enjoy them.

And lovely - if you were ever handed the belief that your softness, your desires, your pleasure were “too much,” this is where we gently give them back to you. The sacral doesn’t ask you to feel less. It returns you the right to feel at all. 🤍

The Sacral, in detail - where the body learns to feel again.

🌹 Goddess · Parvati - she who awakens pleasure & creativity

🌹 Seed sound · VAM - the bīja that unlocks the waters

🌹 Element · water - movement, tide, flow

🌹 Breath · dirga - the slow three-part wave

🌹 Pose · baddha konasana - the butterfly, softly opening the hips

🌹 Oil · sweet orange - warmth, joy, flow

🌹 Herb · shatavari - the woman’s tonic

🌹 Brahmavihara · mudita - joy; letting yourself be glad

🌹 Affirmation · I am allowed to feel.

The season it pairs with: your inner spring - the follicular phase. Rising energy, fresh desire, the first green shoots of what wants to be made.

A small practice, if you’d like one.

Tonight, lie down with your knees bent, soles of the feet together, and let the hips fall open - the butterfly. Breathe low, into the belly and the pelvis. You don’t have to do anything. Just visit. Notice whatever’s there - tightness, warmth, a flutter, nothing at all - and if it feels okay, rest a hand there and offer that part of you a little kindness, the way you would a friend. That’s it. Not with force. With listening.

A few questions to sit with this week. (Notebook, notes app, or the back of an envelope — wherever your heart writes.)

🌹 What feeling have you been managing, instead of letting it move through you?

🌹 Where have you been gripping for control - and what might soften if you let it flow?

🌹 What did you once love to make, or do, purely for the pleasure of it - before it had to be useful?

🌹 If your hips could speak, what would they tell you they’ve been holding?

You don’t need the answers yet. Let the questions move in their own time. The body always does.

The daily walk continues - In Her Rhythm.

This Sunday letter is the weekly walk. The daily one lives in the app - a morning practice, an evening close, and a quiet circle of women on the very same path.

In Her Rhythm, the app - arriving any day now.

a little peek inside. she’s almost here. 🌸

It was meant to be Monday. It’ll be whenever the flow allows (I’m reliably informed the universe and Apple are still in discussions 😉).

Founding-member pricing is open through the waitlist - and joining now locks your founding price before she goes live.

If your body has been quietly asking to feel again - to soften, to want, to let something finally move - consider this your invitation.

Let it move. 🧡

Your feeling. Your flow. Your permission. I am allowed to feel. 🤍 And you always were, my darling.

With love, grace & gratitude, Aradhana x

Gentle note: this letter shares a little of my own healing, lightly. If any of it stirs something deeper in you, please know you don’t have to carry it alone — a trusted person, or a professional who works with this, is it’s own quiet act of self-leadership. This is my story, not medical or mental-health advice. I am a certified mental- health first aider - and here to support you if you need. Hit reply to connect and discuss ways I can assist you on your healing journey,

I want to tell you something and I want it to land for you as a hell yes, the way it finally did for me.

This week, I spread my wings multiple times.

I pitched my business out loud, in a room full of people, trembling the whole way through from the deepest, truest part of me. I wasn’t bracing for the outcome. I was simply… aligned. Home in myself. Finally saying the thing my heart has been holding for years.

And the outcome is bigger than I could have imagined. Doors I’d been quietly knocking on are opening with ease across everything I’m building and want to share. (More on that soon. For now, I’ll just say: I feel very blessed and grateful. 🥲)

This was after already having 2 other pitches earlier in the week which also landed better than I could imagine.

A dear mentor of mine, in his old and wise years, shared his retirement gift with me as one piece of advice I’ll never forget: go fly like an eagle. 🦅 And this week, for the first time, I actually did that unapologetically.

But here is the part I need you to hear - because it’s why I built In Her Rhythm, the Lead with Confidence app, the workshops and why they all work:

I could only soar because I did the root chakra work first.

An eagle doesn’t launch from nowhere. It rises from solid ground - a high, steady place it trusts beneath it’s feet. The flight looks like freedom, but it begins with foundation. Before you can rise, you have to remember: the ground was always holding you.

A year ago, I couldn’t have held what’s arriving now. My body didn’t feel safe enough to hold a dream this big. I would have shrunk, second-guessed, talked myself out of it. So I did the slow, unglamorous work first. I came home to my root:

🌹 Grounding in nature - bare feet, solid earth, the season turning

🌹 The LAM mantra - the seed sound of the root, vibrating safety back into my body

🌹 Dancing - coming home to my body as a place of joy, not judgement

🌹 Standing on solid ground - routine, rhythm, the boring brilliance of feeling held

🌹 Teaching In Her Rhythm - because we keep what we give away

And slowly, my body became a safe enough place to hold my dreams as they land.

That isn’t a pretty idea, lovely. It’s the entire engine of In Her Rhythm. Every practice, every chakra we walk, every coaching session - it all exists to make your body a safe enough home to receive the life you’re calling in. You cannot manifest what your body cannot hold. I lived it. And I now watch my coaching clients live it too - root by root, week by week. The soaring is real, but it is always built on the ground first.

Somewhere in the middle of all of it, I came home to my dharma - three little words a friend handed back to me this week:

I help you spread your wings. 🦅

Because when your why is crystal clear, nothing else actually matters. And mine is simple:

I want you to succeed and believe in yourself like nobody’s business. Because life is hard. People will doubt you. You’ll doubt you. But if you never try, you’ll never know how far you could have come.

God did not give you the dream without giving you the how. It’s tucked safely inside your heart and inside your body. You just have to make her safe enough to let it out. One day at a time.

So let me ask you what I had to ask myself: what would happen if you backed yourself - just once?

That’s where we begin this week. Not with the soaring. With the roots.

Because safety is not earned. It is remembered.

The Root · Muladhara.

❤️ shadow: fear, scarcity, never-quite-safe.

❤️ gift: the right to be here, in this body, on this earth.

Your root sits at the base of the spine - the foundation of the whole system. It governs safety, belonging, and your most basic right: to exist, exactly as you are.

When it’s blocked, it whispers you’re not safe, there isn’t enough, you don’t quite belong. It shows up as anxiety, scarcity, over-control, the inability to rest. Most of us call this our personality. It isn’t. It’s an unmet root.

When it’s free, it becomes a quiet, unshakeable knowing: I am safe to be here. In this body - this exact body, at this exact size, with this exact story - on this earth. Not once I’ve fixed myself. Not once I’ve earned it. Now.

And lovely - if you’ve ever been handed the belief that your body has to look a certain way to be worthy of taking up space, this is where we gently put it down. The root doesn’t ask your body to change. It returns to you the right to be in it. 🤍

The Root, in detail — where the body remembers it is safe.

🌹 Element · earth

🌹 Breath · sama vritti — even breath

🌹 Pose · malasana — the garland squat

🌹 Oil · vetiver — grounding

🌹 Herb · ashwagandha — for scattered vata

🌹 Brahmavihara · metta — loving-kindness

🌹 Affirmation · I am safe to be here.

The season it pairs with: your inner winter - the menstrual phase. The time to rest, to retreat, to let the ground hold you.

A few questions to sit with this week. (Notebook, notes app, or the back of an envelope — wherever your heart writes.)

🌹 Where in your life do you feel safe — and where do you feel like you’re bracing?

🌹 What does your body need to feel held right now, and what’s one small way you could give her that today?

🌹 Where have you been waiting to “earn” the right to rest, to want, to take up space?

🌹 What might become possible if your body finally trusted it was safe to hold your dreams?

You don’t need answers yet. Just let the questions live in you. The body responds in her own time.

The daily walk begins - In Her Rhythm.

This Sunday letter is the weekly walk. The daily one begins now - the same root work that let me spread my wings, in your pocket, every day.

In Her Rhythm, the app - releases July 6.

Every day for seven months: a daily letter, a morning practice, an evening close, and the weekly circle of women on the very same walk.

🌹 Founding-member pricing is open through the waitlist, and our July 4 celebration locks it in before the app goes live. Join the waitlist to hold your founding price.

If your last few weeks have been heart-led too and if your body has been quietly asking for a softer, safer rhythm, this is your invitation. Roots first. Then we fly. 🦅

Your ground. Your belonging. The earth has you. I am safe to be here. 🤍 Yes my darling you are ✨😍🫶🏼

With lots of love, grace & gratitude

Aradhana x

I’m writing this on a Monday morning. Last week was one of the most powerful weeks of my life - and I’m still integrating, so the Sunday letter is landing today instead.

It started with a fever, a stretch of long days, and several projects running in parallel. By Friday, I was tired. The kind of tired that used to push me through, regardless of what my body was asking for.

Instead - for the first time in a long time - I let Friday be my guiding light.

I took a mini nap (as an introvert, this is the only way I can socialise on a Friday - and yes, I know that’s a privilege, and one I wish I’d given myself earlier). Then I landed at the long-table dinner at Saint, where I train and where I’m surrounded by the most beautiful community.

I listened to my body instead of overruling her. That alone was the win.

Saturday and Sunday became the kind of weekend I used to dream about being able to fully say yes to:

🌹 A Sunday sound bath where I moved through grief and felt liberated afterwards
🌹 A 108 sun salutation for International Yoga Day where I moved through mental chatter and was beyond excited at how strong my body really is
🌹 A winter solstice kirtan where what started as grief became dancing and singing in community while totally embracing the power of mantra and presence.

What I was shedding - slowly and completely, was a part of me that stopped serving me a long time ago: people-pleasing.

And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I came home to my own mantra.

I AM WHOLE.

My looks, my weight, my degrees, my marital status, my bank account — none of it defines me anymore.

My heart does. And how I show up in the world.

That’s the journey I’ve been on. Aligning with my values. Leading from my heart. And finally - receiving feedback from the beautiful ladies who walked the 21-day Root Chakra journey with me that the work landed, and that they’re ready to walk the Sacral chakra with me in July.

That’s the gift only this kind of life can give back.

Here’s what I want you to know about how this work unfolds.

In everything we do, self-love eventually leads the way. And from there, you can create and share your gift into the world.

There is no way to create safety in your body if you aren’t integrating it all. The only way I know how is to drop into your heart and let yourself finally feel it. Grief. Anger, Joy, Laughter - all of it has it’s place and is necessary to show you the depth of your heart. The parts you’ve been quietly shedding. The mantra waiting underneath.

While I love yoga, the philosophy side is what I teach. And the philosophy underneath all of it has a name.

The shadow and the gift.

“Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed.” — Einstein

Your chakras are the seven energy centres in the body starting at the base of your spine going all the way upto the top of your head.

Each one holds a specific frequency, mapped to your spine, your nervous system, your endocrine system. When the energy flows freely, it expresses as your gift. When it's blocked, it expresses as it’s shadow.

The shadow is what blocks the energy. The gift is what the energy becomes when it’s freed. Most of us live in the shadow without realising it - and we call it our personality.

Procrastination. Anxiety. People-pleasing. Perfectionism. Numbness. Over-giving. Exhaustion.

These aren’t who you are.
These are the shadows of unmet chakras.

The seven chakras at a glance:

❤️ Root · shadow: fear, scarcity, never-quite-safe. gift: the right to be here, in this body, on this earth.

🧡 Sacral · shadow: creative block, numbness, suppressed pleasure. gift: creativity, flow, the right to want and feel.

💛 Solar Plexus · shadow: self-doubt, over-giving, depletion. gift: sovereignty, agency, the right to act on your own terms.

💚 Heart · shadow: walls, grief held in, withholding. gift: love, devotion, the right to be loved fully.

🩵 Throat · shadow: silence, swallowed words, tight jaw. gift: truth, voice, the right to be heard.

💙 Third Eye · shadow: overthinking, doubt, foggy seeing. gift: clarity, knowing, the right to trust yourself.

💜 Crown · shadow: disconnection, exhaustion, “what’s the point.” gift: belonging, surrender, the right to be held by something larger than you.

A few questions to sit with this week.

(Get a notebook. Or your notes app. Or a piece of paper that lives by your bed.)

🌹 How is your Root chakra supporting you today? How is your Heart chakra?

🌹 Which of these “personality traits” do you most identify with right now — perfectionism, anxiety, people-pleasing, numbness, over-giving, procrastination, exhaustion?

🌹 What if that wasn’t your personality — but a chakra asking for attention?

🌹 When was the last time your body whispered to you and you didn’t listen?

You don’t need answers yet. Just let the questions live in you this week. The body will respond in her own time.

The nine-week walk ahead.

This letter is week one of nine. Over the next 8 Sundays, I’ll walk you through each chakra - its shadow, its gift, the cycle phase it pairs with, the practices that activate it, and the journal questions to bring it home.

You’ll receive:

✨ Root · safety
✨ Sacral · creativity
✨ Solar Plexus · sovereignty
✨ Heart · love
✨ Throat · voice
✨ Third Eye · knowing
✨ Crown · belonging

By the end of August, you’ll have walked the whole framework with me - on Sunday letters, in your inbox, on your own time.

Alongside it all, the daily walk begins.

In Her Rhythm launches July 4 - the app version of this walk, where every day for 7 months you receive a daily letter, a morning practice, an evening close, and access to the weekly circle of women on the same walk.

Founding-member early-bird pricing is open now — until July 4.
Link to join the waitlist →

If your last few weeks have been heart-led too, if your body has been quietly asking for a softer rhythm, if you’re tired of calling your unmet chakras your “personality” - I am excited to share this journey with you.

with love, grace & gratitude
Aradhana x

It’s been a minute. How are you? I am sure I have seen you around Saint over the last few months since you attended a workshop. Thanks for being there and for your support.

Truly — how are you? How’s your body, your work, your heart? I’d love to hear back if you have a moment.

I’m writing because something has been quietly building over here, a…

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If you’re new here, thank you for finding me. If you’ve been with me on Instagram, thank you for following me into this longer-form space. I’ve been wanting to write here for a long time, and the moment has finally landed.

This is the first letter from In Her Rhythm.

I’m writing this from the PEMF mat on a Sunday morning, my body deep in Day 2 of my cycle, recovering from broken sleep, yet feeling so inspired and blessed. This is the kind of soft, undeniable signal the body sends after a big stretch of giving and when it needs a minute to just be honoured. Some might say TMI - but really it’s a shame that more women aren’t aware of the magic that your cycle can give you. I’m here to help with that 🌀

The Super New Moon in Gemini rises tonight (or tomorrow, depending where you’re reading this from) - the most powerful new moon of 2026 - and my body is in perfect rhythm with the sky.

Why, because it is all about communication - how you communicate to yourself & with others. Just saying, do you need to be kinder to yourself?

And the past 48 hours have been a stretch of giving, which I absolutely enjoyed. I live for this stuff.

Which is why I am so excited for the three workshops I’ll be running regularly from July onwards. It’s such an honour to be holding space for you from a fully integrated place and to help you live an inspired life while supporting your body with real unconditional love. I know that is a journey in itself, trust me. I have only made that a priority recently myself.

This is the rhythm I want to share with you.

How I got here.

I’ve spent 11+ years in corporate leadership and have over 20 years experience in finance, tech and operations. I love that part of my life - it taught me how to build, lead, execute, and recover from burning out (twice, if we’re being honest). But somewhere in the middle of it, my body started telling me a story that my work couldn’t fit.

12 years ago, I taught my first body balance class. Then yoga. Then meditation.

I moved to Sydney in 2019 for a change of scenery - and that move, while beautiful, also gave me the space to recognise that the relationship I was in wasn’t serving either of us.

In Sydney I studied Reiki Level I and IIN coaching, because reiki helped me heal what nothing else could touch. In 2020 I came back home to Melbourne. I came home to myself. That walk back was the beginning of In Her Rhythm, long before I had the words for it.

In 2024 I completed my Reiki Mastership, my 200-hour Yoga Teacher Training, and my Yoga Nidra certification. I’m now studying Aromatic Kinesiology where essential oils are a powerful tool that help to access stored emotional patterns in the body.

The work I do now is the work I needed when I was at my most depleted.

Why In Her Rhythm.

In Her Rhythm was born from my own journey of learning to eat, move, create, and rest in alignment with my cycle. I now plan my work, my exercise, and my food around where I am in my cycle - and my creativity has skyrocketed since I stopped fighting my body and started living in flow with it.

But I’m not the only woman whose body has been waiting for permission to be lived with rather than against. Most of us were raised to override our cycles, push through, perform, and treat the body’s needs as inconveniences to be managed.

In Her Rhythm is the alternative - a body of work designed for inspired women who want to live, work, and create in alignment with the rhythms their body has always known.

This week, I launched the three workshops (MOVE · CREATE · NOURISH).
Next month - the In Her Rhythm app launches on July 4 with daily letters, a weekly circle, and a community of women on the same walk. You get to spend 28 days with each chakra in alignment with your cycle - whether you’re bleeding or not, I have you covered.

The framework underneath all of this.

“Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed.” Einstein

Each of your seven chakras has a shadow and a gift.

The shadow is what blocks the energy. The gift is what the energy becomes when it’s freed, and I want to help you feel expansive in all areas of your life one step at a time.

Most of us live in the shadow without realising it - and call it our personality. Procrastination, anxiety, people-pleasing, perfectionism, numbness, over-giving, exhaustion - these aren’t who we are. These are the shadows of unmet chakras.

The work of In Her Rhythm is to learn to see the shadow, transform the energy, and access the gift. Cycle by cycle. Chakra by chakra. Week by week.

I’ll walk you through all seven over the coming letters.

What you can expect from these letters.

Each Sunday, a letter from me on:

✨ Cyclical living - the body, the cycle, the moon
✨ Body wisdom - what your symptoms might be telling you (the body’s decoder)
✨ Chakra teachings - the shadow and the gift of each energy centre
✨ Quiet practices - small things you can do to come home to yourself
✨ The road ahead - workshops, community support, the app, retreats, the lineage forming

These letters will be short on advice and long on rhythm. They are written for the woman walking home.

A little more about the woman writing them.

I want you to know who’s behind these letters - because the work I do isn’t just what I teach, it’s who I am. I was born in India and love being in Australia where my heart truly is. I have combined my love of both countries into everything I do.

I’m currently in my nerd and queen bee era 👑🐝 🌹 - living unapologetically, building things I would have been too scared to build five years ago, and laughing at myself often. I record podcasts and feel like a failure halfway through, until I check the stats and find someone actually listened - which always surprises me, so thank you.

(That’s what In Her Rhythm is about, by the way. Women supporting women. Even if all I’m doing today is bringing you tissues because you’re crying over spilt milk.)

Life has its ups and downs and so what - let’s enjoy the journey anyway. The crying-at-a-movie-you’ve-already-seen-eight-times kind of joy. The laughing-with-your-friends-until-you-can’t-breathe kind of joy.

Speaking of movies, my long-time favourite is Gifted with Chris Evans. Then I discovered Henry Cavill in my 40s and realised I’d somehow missed the entire Superman era. I refused to mourn the loss and binge-watched everything he was in including Enola Holmes. Expect a movie or song reference in nearly every letter. I can’t help it.

I’m also a massive music lover. Currently beyond obsessed with “Your Energy” and anything afrobeats, which my work colleagues are always surprised to hear. (Apparently the woman who does reiki isn’t supposed to also be dancing to Afro Tech in her kitchen. The body has its own opinions 😆)

Outside of work I love my three beautiful nieces, the yoga mat, the beach, music, and the close circle of friends who have walked beside me through all of it. I genuinely couldn’t do life without them.

So that’s me. Here’s the rhythm.

The invitation.

If this letter resonates - share it with a friend who’s walking the same path.

If you’re a Melbourne local - the three workshops launch in July. Subscribe to stay connected. Join the waitlist →

If you want the daily walk in app form In Her Rhythm launches July 4.

And wherever you are - thank you for being here. You’re part of a circle that’s only just starting to find itself, and I am honoured to walk this journey with you.

With love, grace & gratitude
Aradhana x