I find that words are lacking when attempting to explain my recent 200HR Yoga Teacher Training journey in Bali, and what I have continued to learn of Yoga, in all its forms. From the traditional philosophy, through to the art and the science, the magical by-product of the health it brings to the body, mind and heart, and all the bits in between.

Yoga Is not just a practice, it is a lifestyle, and it goes way beyond the mat. That being said, even just spending 15 minutes a day on the mat is already so potent. My self practice have deepened and grown into something much larger than myself. I have learnt so much. What has sung most true to me recently is this:

Life is a gift, and Yoga, to me, is a way of celebrating and living life in the most intimate way.
It brings me right into the heart of being alive.

When people feel a need for something in their life, or experience a problem, and then do something about it. That is what the core of my being has been about, most of the time, lately.

I feel a gap, or a need, I create what I need. Sometimes it’s easy and instant, other times it (is taking) years...

One thing has become increasingly clear. It’s so easy to think that we are alone in our suffering. Often it feels safer to believe this. I have a tendency to believe that I am unique in my suffering and that no one ‘gets it’... I then often isolate myself and go into a cave. This feels safe in a way.

This time round, I decided to do the opposite. And I have learned that my suffering is not as special as I might think. There is suffering in all of us, it is part of the human experience.

I watched an Indian film last night. It took me back to my days as a young, naive, hopeful, romantic girl. I used to love Bollywood. It had all the magnificent shades of beauty. The movies were long and dramatic. They took their time building intimate characters and complex narratives. They were intense, colourful, musical, beautiful.

I could write and dream and draw about romantic and philosophical ideas all day long. I remember being 18 and spending a Friday night on the computer, writing an essay titled Truth, Love, Beauty… and Creativity. It felt so natural… it was a wonderfully long romantic session with myself. I remember my father’s girlfriend at the time was visiting, and when I came up to them at around 1am to show them what I have just written, they looked at me perplexed. Why would a teenage girl do that? Why not go out and live? Why not go out and party? I don’t know. The world in my imagination seemed much more inviting.

Last night, when I finished this magnificent Indian film, all these romantic notions returned to me. Supporting ideas such as “A woman can save a broken man. A man can fall so deeply in love with a woman that she becomes everything to him. She can be the centre of his world. Life is not worth living unless you experience intense and dramatic romantic events.” - and worst of all - “Once a man has pledged his love - especially the one you have just saved - he will never desire any other woman ever again…”

Whoa!