I remember my first yoga class. A dimly lit 6am class at a loud gym, before heading to my engineering job. In child’s pose, the teacher asking us to put down the metaphorical bag of rocks we had been carrying until now.

I remember the first time I heard the word trauma and yoga in the same sentence. A cozy yoga studio, a cup of chai and a documentary about how yoga was helping veterans and indigenous people heal. The first seed was planted.

I remember sitting in my first yoga teacher training. The first time I felt strong and confident in my body and the start of feeling powerful and more courageous in myself. The start of unlearning patterns and seeing beyond what I thought was possible.

I remember teaching my first yoga class. A sense of ease and belonging, despite being an introvert who doesn’t like being the center of attention.

I remember my first trauma-sensitive yoga training. More learning and unlearning.

I remember the first time I learned about neuro-plasticity. Awe for this human body of ours and another door of possibility.

I remember the first session yoga therapy session I held for someone. Again, that feeling of belonging and a deep trust in myself to provide guidance and hold space.

I remember sitting in our 12-ft camper in Hungry Horse, MT, feeling the depth of injustices and suffering in the world. Longing to support others.

I remember jumping in the ocean on a deserted beach in Nambucca Heads, NSW, feeling the fullness of my joy and fierceness.

These are the stepping stones of my story and I have many teachers to thank for them.
These are part of why I do what I do.

Because the disconnection and constriction we feel from mental health issues and experiences of trauma do not define who we are. 
Because embodying joy, safety and trust from within is possible.