09/09/2026
Little pockets of time. You never know when you’re experiencing something just how much it will stand out and be remembered when you look back.
My husband and I were chatting this morning. I was telling the story of Krishnamacharya and how he kept turning up at his guru door every day for months before his teacher decided to teach him. The story of my teacher in Mysore also came up and how with his teacher it would be similar scenario. Or when I turned up in Mysore it was not a guarantee that my teacher would teach me. It was a meeting first then it was decided. Yoga was not a commodity. It was not something you could just buy your way into. I couldn’t just pay my teacher and join a TT. I had to practice there consistently for months. I made a sacrifice giving up my job to be there. And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I wanted it to mean something and I wanted it to be tough that way when I looked back it would be something I had to work my ass of to achieve. This not being guaranteed something really tested our commitment and perseverance, something I think is really being lost.
It also wasnt assumed that you even had to like your teacher. I really didn’t like my teacher for many months at the start and honestly I think that’s healthy ( of course I think he’s adorable now) I’m not sure when it became a thing that being a yoga teacher meant having a nice personality or being liked or even providing a ‘nice’ experience. And yep even my ego forgets this sometimes whenever I’m made to do something I don’t want to do or follow the rules. Yoga is really not about feeling good, yoga is about transformation. It’s about doing things not because you like it but because you need to work through it.
In a world full of distractions, sound baths, circles, drums and new age rituals that sell ‘feeling good’. I really crave just the silence of moving with the breath under the guidance of my teacher.
Wee throwback to handstands in my apartment 2017 Mysore 🇮🇳