When I first signed up for my 200-hour yoga teacher training, I wasn’t new to teaching. At that time I had over 10-years of experience in movement and performance, teaching dance, physical theatre, breath, presence.
I was running movement performance retreats, I taught workshops in studios and I was a Senior Lecturer at one of the UK’s top performance academies.
I was already working with professional dancers and actors.
Yoga had long been part of my professional training and personal toolkit, something I’d used as a dancer for conditioning, strength, flexibility, and focus. I’d been practicing for over 15 years and I loved the fiery physicality of it, the kind of practice that made me sweat and shift energy.
But I’ll be honest, embarking on a teacher training, I felt a lot of pressure going in.
As a movement professional, I thought I had to already know everything about the asanas. I was training in Ashtanga at the time, and I remember putting so much weight on getting the jump-backs, the jump-throughs, completing the whole practice ‘perfectly.’ I thought: if I’m going to be there, I should be excellent already.
But then I arrived…. and I wasn’t “perfect”. I didn’t have it all “nailed”. Nor did anyone else
And that’s when the training began to reveal itself. Not just in how much I didn’t know about yoga as a whole, but in how much more there was to feel and to experience- in stillness, in philosophy, in presence. It was humbling, and freeing.
For the first time in a long time, I let go of being ‘the teacher.’ Of holding the position of “knowing” And I remembered how to be a student. To let go, to enjoy the process of learning.
That shift opened so much in me. I remember one morning meditation (new to me by the way), simple, quiet, and yet it felt like something deep inside me was being touched. I felt this connection to a dear friend who had supported me through a very emotionally challenging time. It was like the stillness gave space for old pain and deep love to exist side by side. Something softened.
And then there was the moment my body just stopped.
I injured myself and had to step away from the training for a day. I could hardly move. Normally, I would have pushed through, ignored it, overridden it.
That was my pattern: keep going, perform strength, don’t stop. But something about the intensity of the yoga training, the depth it asked of me, was also teaching me to listen. To be honest.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t push through. I gave myself space to rest. To feel.
At the time, I felt frustrated. But now I understand it was my emotional body speaking. The pain was a release, tension I’d been carrying, resistance I hadn’t even realised I was holding. The intensity of the practice had created the right conditions for something deep to shift.
That experience marked a turning point.
Not just in my physical practice, but in how I approached healing, teaching, and life. I realised that this wasn’t about performing yoga, it was about living it. And that the real practice wasn’t in nailing the shapes, but in showing up with honesty, again and again.
Eventually, I stepped away from my academic life and moved into teaching yoga full-time. Not because I had to. But because I couldn’t not. The work had changed me.
So if you’re someone with years of experience teaching and working with the body – or even if you’re just starting out – and you feel that tug toward something deeper… trust it. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be ready. You just have to be willing to show up, as a student, holding what you know lightly, and creating space to learn more.
That’s where real transformation begins.
❤️
Moni
