Book Review

Jennifer Lang’s Landed: A yogi’s memoir in pieces and poses looks at the struggle of integrating into Israel, the effort it takes to sustain a long-term relationship, and the challenge of confronting oneself—even the parts we wish to ignore. The book’s experimental structure weaves yoga lessons from each of the seven chakras through seven years of Lang’s life as she wrestles with the realities of her new home, her marriage, and her sense of self. Each chapter is inspiring, heartbreaking, reflective, and unexpectedly funny.

One of the most moving threads in Landed is Lang’s reckoning with her decision to relocate to Israel. She invites the reader into the unsettling reality of feeling like a stranger in one’s own home. The book’s setting feels even more haunting when read in the context of recent history. Landed unfolds just before the Israel-Hamas war, yet the tension and uncertainty Lang captures foreshadow the deepening conflicts to come. At the same time, the novel explores the complexities of parenting and marriage—the doubt, resistance, and resentment that can surface when a major life choice affects an entire family:

With each move, I pined for the people and the place left behind. Romanticized the notion of home. But home is far from perfect, riddled with flaws. Every place, every relationship, every decision involves trade-offs, accepting the bad with the good, embracing the whole package.

Structured like a yoga class that moves through the seven chakras, Landed is infused with yogic philosophy and inspiration, particularly the concept of chitta vritti nirodha, the stilling of the mind. Lang draws a parallel between this idea and her own struggle to accept her new reality:

I baby hop on the standing foot, one leg at a time, while Yogeswari says, “Perspective and prejudices are the biggest obstacle to our personal development. Rather than dwell on the negative, try to look at your circumstances and ask what you can learn from them.”

I sigh, long and loud. Mari’s reliance on laws and practices from past generations might not resonate with me, but yoga jargon does.

I am spiritual. This is my practice. Temples, god, rules, and traditions don’t click as much as the belief in ourselves as creators and controllers of our own destinies.

At times, the book mirrors the experience of a yoga practice itself: a barrage of worries and fears, interrupted by moments of grounding and clarity, ultimately guiding the reader toward a deeper understanding of personal resilience.

Lang compares the feeling of moving from America to Israel and the yoga pose Prasarita Padottanasana, the wide-legged forward fold—a posture of being both grounded and stretched in opposite directions: “I pictured a mythological creature straddling the globe, one foot in Israel and the other in America, my sacral center caught in a vigorous game of tug-of-war.” This image encapsulates the book’s central tension: the longing for belonging and the struggle to find peace within oneself.

Landed is not about resolutions but about the ongoing process of acceptance. Through Lang’s candid storytelling, the memoir offers an intimate portrait of a woman balancing love, identity, and home—one breath, one pose, one moment at a time.