Living in Touch

We celebrate the end of a 200-hour Yoga Teacher Training. The final practice. The certificate. The moment everyone realises, we actually did it.

And yes, it’s a magical time ⭐️

But the celebration starts much sooner.

It starts the moment you say yes.

You step into the unknown. You may not know anyone. You’re not entirely sure what you’ve signed up for, or who you’ll be when you walk out the other side.

And then, slowly, the edges begin to stretch.

You learn what it feels like to be truly heard.
You find your voice and learn to trust it.
You question old beliefs.
You discover who you are as a teacher.
You may stumble, soften, laugh, cry, connect, grow.

And somewhere along the way, a group of strangers becomes a community.

To witness this journey is one of the greatest privileges of being a teacher.

Because the real transformation isn’t in the certificate at the end.

It’s in everything that happens along the way 🫶🏻

To every student who has stepped into the unknown with me: thank you for trusting the process, for showing up as you!

This is what we celebrate.
Not just the ending, but every brave step that brought you here ✨

There’s something incredibly special about holding space for people as they step into their own power.

Every group reminds me that teaching is never a one-way exchange. The openness, curiosity, courage, and willingness these students bring to each day informs and inspired me endlessly 🌀

It’s such a privilege to witness people soften, question, discover, and trust themselves more deeply. To be invited into that process is something I’ll never take for granted.

These experiences always leave me inspired. They remind me why I do this work, and that the greatest learning happens when we grow together.

So much gratitude for every student who has trusted me to be part of their journey. 🤍

Dancing has always been one of the ways I process what’s too big for words.

But I often hide it.

I only seem to let myself dance when I can’t hold it in anymore, when the emotions have built up so much that I have no choice but to put on music, close my eyes, and let my body move however it needs to.

As someone who grew up dancing, movement like this is a complicated place for me. It feels familiar and foreign, freeing and painful all at once. It reconnects me with parts of myself I’ve spent years keeping at a distance.

It almost always ends the same way: tears, journaling, a deep exhale, and a little more space inside me. Then life carries on, and somehow I forget this medicine until months later, when my body reminds me again.

As with yoga, dancing now has become the opposite of performance.

They’re simply a way home to myself

As teachers, our role isn’t to create an experience for our students or tell them what they should feel.

Our responsibility is to offer the practice with clarity and integrity, creating the conditions for self-inquiry rather than directing the outcome.

We don’t lead students towards a version of themselves we think they should become, we simply hold space for them to discover what is already there.

Early in my teaching, I believed I had to give students something. Now I see that my role is less about giving, and more about holding a space in which they can meet themselves, it’s been a beautiful journey 💕

One week into a YTT can somehow feel like both one day and one month.

A beautiful whirlwind of landing and unraveling. Of remembering and letting go. Of discovering that the more we soften, the more there is to receive.

So much gratitude for this experience, these people, and everything that’s unfolding 🫶🏻

“We’re all just walking each other home.” Ram Dass

My first 200hr was the catalyst for change in almost every area of my life.

Not because everything shifted overnight, but because something shifted in how I saw myself.

And honestly… I love this work for that.

Because it doesn’t end when the training finishes.

That’s just the beginning.

It’s so easy to leave yoga on the mat, in the studio, in the retreat space, in that protected bubble.

But the real practice is what happens when you come back to daily life.

The emails. The relationships. The habits. The patterns.

For me, that training changed things in ways I never expected:

• I became more myself, less who I thought I needed to be
• I started building a career that feels like an extension of me
• I began to relate to my relationships differently
• My love for this tradition deepened and kept expanding

And none of it was instant.

The training planted the seeds.

Daily life is where they’ve been watered.

Yoga stopped being something I do and became something I live.

Not perfectly. Not always consistently.

But with more awareness, honesty, and care than before.

A 200hr doesn’t complete you.

It opens a door.

And what you choose to do after walking through it… is where everything really begins 💕

Someone asked me the other day what I enjoy most about teaching, it took me back as I haven’t been asked that for a long time.

My answer came simply: connection.

I love humans, our humanness and embracing it! I love those moments when the phones get put down and suddenly there’s nowhere else we need to be except here, with ourselves, and even with each other. Quality time has always been one of my love languages, and teaching feels deeply connected to that.

One of my favourite things to remind my students is that there’s no way you “have” to be. You don’t have to try to look ‘yogic’, impress anyone, or wear any masks. This is a space to let all of that go and come back to yourself, your truth no one else’s.

And when a whole room of people are moving, breathing, and being fully present together in that way… mmmm … it feels bit magic.

Of course I could list 100’s of reasons why I do what I do, but one of the main reasons I love teaching is this: to give others that experience, and selfishly, to feel it with you all too 🫶🏻

Spiralling and unfurling 🌀