The Gentle Turning of the Wheel: Staying Rooted Through Change
- alisonfosteryoga
- May 14
- 5 min read

This morning, I took a photograph of a small iris in my garden.
At first, I simply saw beauty. Then I remembered its story.
This iris was transplanted from my mum and dad’s garden, just next door. It hadn't travelled far, yet it had still been uprooted, disturbed, and asked to find itself again in new ground.
And here it is now. Small, steady, perfectly formed, and open.
A quiet joy for insects and onlookers alike.
It made me think about change. How even a small move, a subtle shift, a change in rhythm or season can unsettle the roots for a while. And how, with time, care, and the right conditions, life steadies again.
Sometimes the image arrives before the meaning does.
I had simply taken a photograph of a flower in my garden. Yet it seemed to carry the whole teaching of this moment: being uprooted, finding new ground, trusting the process of re-rooting, and allowing beauty to emerge in its own time.
It feels like a fitting place to begin as we approach this New Moon.
My last blog was in February, around Kalki, endings, beginnings, and the sense of something old giving way. Since then, life has been full. The wheel has turned through the early stirrings of spring, into blossom, into Beltane, into retreat, into the steady work of holding spaces, creating offerings, and tending what is growing.
Now, as things begin to settle a little, I find myself returning to the page.
We are moving through a powerful threshold again.
This New Moon arrives on Satureday 16th May with a different kind of potency. It carries the feeling of a turning point, a moment to become very conscious of where our attention is going, what we are feeding, what we are allowing to grow, and what is quietly asking to be released.
There are times when a New Moon feels like a soft beginning. A clean page. A quiet seed planted in the dark.
This one feels more charged.
It feels like a moment of illumination within the dark. A time to pause and ask:
Where is my energy going?
What am I giving life-force to?
What am I ready to stop watering?
What is asking for my care, my courage, my clarity?
Where am I being invited to stand in deeper sovereignty?
The word sovereignty has been moving through my awareness a lot lately.
For me, sovereignty is rooted presence. It is the ability to return to our own centre in the middle of noise, intensity, expectation, or change. It is the quiet inner knowing that helps us choose wisely. It is the part of us that remembers we belong to ourselves, to the earth, to the rhythm of life, and to something deeper than the urgency of the outside world.
And nature shows us this all the time.

The blossom does not rush the fruit.
The river does not force its way forward.
The trees don't abandon their roots because the wind is strong.
The green world grows by listening to what is needed now.
When we watch nature closely, we remember that change doesn't have to mean chaos. Growth can be steady. Movement can be conscious. Forward motion can be held by roots.
This feels especially important in this Fire Horse year, where the energy can feel fast, unpredictable, and sometimes like a rollercoaster. There's a lot moving in the world. There's a lot moving in many of us. The invitation is to stay close to ourselves, to care for our nervous systems, to keep returning to the body, the breath, the earth, and the simple practices that help us remain present.
This has been at the heart of so much of my work recently.

At the beginning of May, I held my first Beltane by the River Retreat in West Wales. We gathered beside the River Teifi, surrounded by trees, birdsong, fire, food, ritual, laughter, and shared presence. Beltane is a celebration of life-force, fertility, creativity, beauty, and becoming. It is also a reminder that our energy is sacred. What we give ourselves to matters.

The retreat became a living expression of this season, a space to listen more deeply, to honour what is true, to gather our energy, and to walk forward with more of ourselves.
That same thread continues now through the New Moon.
The Wheel of the Year is always turning. The Moon is always changing. The seasons are always speaking. When we learn to live in closer relationship with these rhythms, we begin to understand our own inner seasons too.
There are times to begin.
Times to release.
Times to rest.
Times to gather courage.
Times to celebrate.
Times to stand still and listen.
Times to move forward with greater care.
Right relationship begins here.
With ourselves.
With our bodies.
With the earth beneath us.
With the choices we make each day.
With the energy we bring into the world.
With the life we are quietly creating.
This is why I keep returning to simple practices.
A pause.
A breath.
A hand on the heart.
A walk outside.
A moment under the trees.
A candle lit with intention.
A question written honestly in a journal.
A body given permission to soften.
These small moments matter.

My Step Back • Tune Out • Drop In Pause Practices were created for exactly this reason. Simple, accessible ways to return to yourself when life feels noisy, fast, or overwhelming. They are gentle invitations to pause, breathe, notice, and come back into your own centre.
You can explore them here:

I have also created a May New Moon Companion to support this particular lunar threshold. It offers reflection, ritual, and embodied practice for becoming more conscious of your focus, your energy, and what you are choosing to tend now.
You can find it here:
And this weekend, I am holding Rest, Release, Restore, a deeply nourishing afternoon of gentle yoga, rest, sound, and stillness. With the energy around this New Moon feeling particularly heightened, this workshop feels very timely. A space to soften, ground, release tension, and return to steadiness.
There are currently 2 spaces left.
You can book here:
As we move through this next turn of the wheel,
May we remember to move with care.
May we watch the earth and learn from her.
May we become more conscious of what we are feeding with our attention.
May we stay rooted as life changes.
May we choose what receives our energy with love, clarity, and courage.
And may we keep returning, again and again, to what is true.

With love,
Alison .x.



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