The road to transformation is rarely linear. It twists and turns, revealing lessons we didn’t anticipate and demanding patience we didn’t know we needed. For those of you who have followed my journey, you know that my world shifted dramatically in 2022. That year cracked me open, forcing me to look at life from a new perspective—one that led me deeper into the practice of yoga.
In the span of a single year, I completed four yoga teacher training (an endeavour I wouldn’t necessarily recommend). Now, I find myself back in Bali—the place where my first YTT began—to integrate, to dedicate myself fully to the practices I have learned, and to step away from teaching for a while so that I can be, once again, a student. A diligent, humble, and open student.
Stepping into the role of a teacher so soon after my training was a gift. I was fortunate to be embraced by an incredible studio (a heartfelt thank you to Kozen in Melbourne), and I poured myself into guiding others. But in doing so, my personal practice shifted—I was moving for the sake of demonstrating, not for the sake of feeling. The depth of my own experience dulled as my focus turned outward. And while I wouldn’t change a thing—because the true learning of teaching begins after the training is done—I now understand that authenticity in holding space for others requires a deep, unwavering commitment to one’s own practice.
The Art of Integration
Integration is not passive. It demands space, time, and sacrifice. For me, it meant layering—working full-time, teaching part-time, squeezing in additional training, maintaining a blog, growing a photography business, and finding a way to be devoted to my practice. From the outside, it may have looked admirable, even inspiring. But something had to give. And as much as I wanted to believe I could juggle everything, I now see that ‘having it all’ doesn’t necessarily mean having it all at once.
The pressure to maintain perfection in every area of my life was relentless, and eventually, I had to choose. If I could practice anywhere, then why not be anywhere? Stripping life back to its essentials—my husband, enough money to sustain the journey, and a few pieces of clothing—became my way forward. A chance to explore my practice, not just as a teacher, but as someone truly living it.
Finding Stillness in Bali
Bali has held a special place in my heart since I was 14. This is my fifth time here, and the last two visits have been entirely devoted to yoga and wellness. Each time I arrive, I navigate the chaos of the traffic, settle into my space, and then—without fail—I sit. A peaceful calm washes over me. It is as if, for a moment, all the noise quiets, and I can see things as they truly are.
Perhaps you have a place like this—a corner of the world that allows you to step back from the weight of your daily existence and simply breathe. If not, I encourage you to find one. Because while our challenges don’t disappear, in the right space, they can soften. And from that softened place, clarity emerges.
Three weeks have passed since I walked away from my job for this year-long journey, and already, the clouds are parting. The overwhelming weight of all the things I tried to carry has lifted. I see it all clearly now—where I pushed too hard, where I lost myself in the process of doing rather than being. I don’t yet have all the answers, but I no longer feel suffocated by the questions.
The Power of Simply Being
There is something profoundly beautiful about slowing down. Just existing in the body, in the breath, in the pause between all the striving. Every day, I wake up and feel called to write, to learn, to practice—that is it. That is enough.
In seeking ways to regulate my nervous system and reconnect with myself, I have stumbled into unexpected depths. Take sound healing, for example—I had no intention of diving into sound medicine, yet when I did, I found a universe of wisdom woven into its science, its ancestry, its ceremony. When you open your heart to these practices, it becomes impossible to close it again.
There is love in sharing. A gift in holding space. A responsibility to lift others up. And that is why I am here—to hold space, to write, to share my journey in the hope that it may inspire you to look within. To find a practice that anchors you, that returns you to yourself again and again, for as long as you need it.
Because transformation is not about arrival. It is about the constant unfolding, the willingness to be a student over and over again.
