Yoga has always been more than just a practice for me. It’s a rhythm, a conversation between body and mind and sometimes, a quiet companion in the midst of life’s chaos.
Every Friday morning, I step onto the mat to teach my Hot Yin Yang class, a blend of slow, passive Yin and active, flowing Yang.
Half an hour before class starts, the heater is turned on, the lights soft and the mats already set like little islands for each student. Yet, every week, each class feels like a new story waiting to unfold.
I also sub for other teachers in Hatha and Detox Yoga. Each style brings its own flavor. Hatha teaches patience, awareness and alignment, while Detox Yoga challenges the body to release and rejuvenate. The common thread? Presence. Breath. Connection.
I’ve also had the joy of teaching corporate yoga whenever I get lucky and this year, I’ve been fortunate to guide several sessions. Each session as usual is different, yet the thread of presence, breath and mindful movement remains the same.
Whether in a hot studio with my regulars or in a corporate space, yoga becomes a pause, a moment of connection and a chance to offer care through movement.
What makes these mornings special isn’t just the sequences or the heat of the studio, but the people who show up.
Students arrive carrying their mornings, their work, their children, their worries and somehow, on the mat, we create a little sanctuary. I think about them as I walk around, stopping by to whisper ‘soften’. It turns into a quiet joy, seeing someone soften into a stretch or noticing their shoulders drop after the first few breaths of meditation.
Yoga, for me, has also been a way to process loss and grief. A week into the beginning of this year, I lost the pillar of my life. I’ve felt the absence of my mom profoundly.
She taught me that a home, a space, should always feel welcoming. I carry that wisdom into the studio. Every student, every practice, every moment of attention, it’s all an offering, a quiet homage to the love and lessons she gave me. On the mat, I sometimes feel her presence, a soft reminder that love and guidance never really leave us.
And yes, yoga is fun too. Between the serious stretches and the deep breaths, there’s laughter, unexpected wobbles and the occasional playful challenge, reminding us not to take ourselves too seriously. Life isn’t all perfect poses; it’s finding balance between effort and ease, between surrender and strength.
Beyond the studio, yoga travels with me. Whether I’m on a quiet street in a foreign city or sitting in a meditation center away from home, the breath, the postures, the awareness…they anchor me. Yoga has taught me to meet life fully, to honor what is and to let go of what no longer serves me.
Every class, every sequence, every student, every moment of silence or laughter, it’s part of the journey. And this journey, though shaped by loss, joy, travel and growth, always brings me back to the same place ie my mat, my breath and the deep, enduring connection to life itself.
And that’s my personal journey of yoga, devotion and the quiet power of presence.
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