It’s November—the month that we turn our thoughts to gratitude. In addition, daylight savings time has ended, signaling our next shift towards winter. As the light becomes scarcer and the darkness moves in earlier each day, nature is encouraging us to honor stillness and introspection, and the state of things in our world is calling us to right action.

In The New York Times “The Morning: Quality Time,” by Melissa Kirsch (Saturday, November 1, 2025), she notes that this transition can be destabilizing until we adjust. I love these two paragraphs about the concept of time.

The ancient Greeks experienced time in two ways. Chronos was the clock time that governs our lives, bedtime and estimated departure time, the hour gained or lost. Kairos referred to a more figurative measure of time — the right time, the moment of opportunity, the sacred window for action. In order to recognize kairos, we have to be aware, awake, present. Madeleine L’Engle wrote: “The child at play, the painter at his easel, Serkin playing the Appassionata are in kairos. The saint in prayer, friends around the dinner table, the mother reaching out her arms for her newborn baby are in kairos.”

In any season, there is kairos. These moments of possibility, of serendipity, arrive in all seasons, but we have to be awake to seize them. The stillness of the colder, darker months — that license to hunker — is a time to slow down and observe. What windows of luck and chance and coincidence emerge when we’re a little quieter, a little more observant? I’ll be observing the sun setting an hour earlier tomorrow, wondering about kairos, those moments of opportunity in the offing that the clock and the calendar can’t touch.

After reading Kirsch’s essay, I googled kairos and AI gave me this: “In English literature and rhetoric, kairos refers to the opportune moment—the right time to say or do something for maximum impact. It is a rhetorical appeal that emphasizes timing and context over chronological time….”

These ideas of kairos inspire me—I want to be introspective and aware of possibility, serendipity, and luck in my life. And, in this incredibly challenging time for so many people, I also want to show up in my community for maximum impact—to alleviate as much suffering as I can and to bring hope to as many people as I can.

This month on our mats we’ll focus on backbends, or what we call “heart openers” in yoga. As we acknowledge our blessings and give thanks, we’ll use our yoga practice to remain openhearted and compassionate to the needs of others.