Sarit Maor
I was born in Israel in 1971 to a Latvian-born mother and an Iraqi-born father.
In my adult life, I devoted myself to two worlds. The first was filmmaking, which introduced me to the power of creative energy—sometimes overwhelming in its intensity. The second was Kundalini Yoga, which taught me how to work with the somatic expression of that energy and set me on a devoted path of practice and teaching.
In 2020, both a personal and collective crisis brought a major turning point. I stepped down from my role as a senior Kundalini Yoga teacher trainer within the established organization and paused my years-long teaching journey across Europe, Turkey, and Israel.
This transition opened a deep period of exploration and new ways of sharing my work—an experimental weaving of storytelling and yoga, where the body tells a story, and where many stories return to tell the story of the body. This unfolding continues to carry me across shifting cultures, contexts, and places, as the times keep changing.
Education:
Film at Camera Obscura, Tel Aviv (1992-1996)
Hebrew Culture at Alma College, Tel Aviv (2004 - 2005)
Kundalini Yoga with I-SKY and Karam Kriya, UK (2004 -2006)
KRI (Kundalini Research Institute) – Aquarian Academy, Mentoring Lead Trainer (2004 -2021)
Life Alignment – Vibrational Healing by Jeff Levin (2021-2022)
BEE (Breath Energy Evolution) with Zohar Shalom (2023)
The Mythic Body with Josh Schrai (2024-2025)
Shedding
In a den in south Tel Aviv, beneath a street full of garages,
among the sculptor’s bronze creatures,
who is about to turn me into a clay figure,
I surrendered to the ritual of shedding,
in which were cast off from me
the priestess’s garments
and the dust of the roads.
With her brush she painted my eyes, my lips, my nose, my ears,
unveiling every opening that it would remain awake
to the shedding of a skin-culture, long dried.
Wrapped in an earthen shroud
I lay on the den’s floor,
and the song-mixer began to utter words from the Book of the Dead:
“Awakened one
Do not let your thoughts wander
Having arrived at the time of death
think of nothing but the awakened heart…”
I surrendered deeper,
to the coldness of the earth
and to the heart, awakened.
And so I lay there, wishing to remain like that, within the threshold,
within the end,
within the liminal space.
And when I rose, a beam of late spring afternoon sunlight pierced through the narrow window,
from which one could see only
the shadows of the legs of those walking above on the street,
workers hurrying back home.
I looked at my reflected figure,
clay cast and dried upon my skin—
continents, fissures, channels, and cracks.
I sat within them as they continued to dry and split,
trembling stories in colors.
Until the moment came to rub and peel,
and all those roads turned into magic dust,
scattering back into the sunbeams.
But this was still not the rebirth.
This was the entry into the Bardo,
where I will continue to shed,
continue to part,
from the womb,
from the mother,
from the paved road,
from role and community,
from a journal with a plan of action, and stations for the journey ahead.
From now on,
day by day in the Bardo.
and so, here I am, offering what I have gathered in these years within the Bardo,
as we are all still transitioning, becoming
