Hi @Ayla Nova whats the difference between the library and the vault? Other than the number of recodings in them? Many thanks Bonny 💕 photo of my cat hanging out in the sun ☀️

But I'm not the only one... I like to imagine a world where we’re living, moment by moment, in our own bodies. Because the world we experience is shaped by the state we live from. I created a Yoga Nidra for a World of Peace…so that, together, we can begin to embody that energy within ourselves and ripple it outward. This practice is a space to remember what it feels like to feel safe… to breathe… to be… just as you are. If you feel that same vision in you, you’re not alone. You’re welcome to step into the practice with me inside the ✧☽ Nova Nidra Vault. ⇒ ONE HOUR | Nova Nidra for a World of Peace A space of ongoing Yoga Nidra practices, live gatherings, and a growing library to return to when you need it. If it calls to you, you can join as a VIP supporter.

For those interested, I completed the I am worthy of rest Nova nidra which is in the VIP section. I would love to say I know why I haven't felt Worthy. But in this moment, I am worthy was resounding throughout my mind and my body. I am worthy of being loved, Worthy to call you my friends, worthy to rest in this moment.

I am a new member of the Nova Nidra Community. I have been meditating daily for ~25 years. My initial guides were Deepak Chopra, Candice Pert, & Joe Dispenza, but Now I am focused on Yoga Nidra. I am a big fan of Kristyn Rose and Ayla Nova. Whom I consider Masters of the practice. ... Thank you.

I just listened to the live YouTube broadcast. Such a wonderful Nidra. I am sharing this poem today since it is World Poetry Day and because it came to me in a dream. It kind of is a dream. No Apology The moon shines down, on the temple The temple of your heart. Waiting for the bus on a grimy night Decades away from here The number seven, driven by your shadow. Or is it the shadow of the number seven, driven by you? The electronic information board says it is decades away. Yet in one sigh of your breath, kissing the cold air, It is here. It arrives in a confused finale of smoke and grumbling apologies, Spitting out the commuters like a mouthful of unwanted fishbones. Fishbones making their way into the unashamed night. No apology needed. None given. You make your way to an unwanted seat. The only one. Next to the unwanted, dishevelled woman, and her unwanted child. The child looks accusingly at you. As if its very existence was always your fault. And you apologise for sitting down. No apology needed. The bus waits for all eternity before moving into the lightless night. Infinite numbers of souls arrive and depart, Yet no one moves. How could they? There is nowhere to go. All that is asked of you is to wait. Your destination has always been known, Although never revealed. Hold my hand. Hold hands with everyone who has ever loved you. And don’t apologise to them for loving you. This is your destination. Love. Love is your destination. No apology needed.