In some ways my yoga practice goes back to before I was born. My parents were yogis in the late 60's early 70's. My father studied in India with Swami Satchidananda and helped him create some of his Integral Yoga Institutes in the United States. They opened Woodstock together with half a million people sitting quietly at peace.

Yoga was a gift my parents were giving me perhaps unconsciously. I have fond memories of doing yoga with my parents when i was young. But, for many of us, as we grow up we often reject the things that our parents teach us. I had absolutely no interest in yoga as a teen/young adult and it wasn't until my late 20's that I recognized how important yoga is in my life and my work as an activist.

After spending a decade in the international women's human rights field, my colleagues and I began to discuss 'burn out' among activists. I too was working non-stop and was always tired, stressed, and agitated. My moods were uneven and my energy levels erratic. Although I was exercising, I wasn't at peace. My health was deteriorating and I was making poor choices in order to handle the stress of the work we were doing.

At some point my sister dragged me to a yoga class. Unconsciously I was already judging modern day yoga. I had created beliefs that the yoga today could never be authentic or even remotely as powerful as what my parents had practiced with 'real' gurus from India.

As much as I wanted to hate the class and find reasons to pick it apart, I felt deep gratitude instead. I felt like my body was coming home to a practice that lives in all of us. My breath began to slow and my muscles began to relax. It was so genuine and so basic that I felt the big ball of string I had wound around myself for protection, begin to unwind. I was vulnerable, but in a safe space. Tears came to my eyes as I gave thanks for this ancient Indian practice. I’ve been practicing and studying yoga regularly ever since and I am honored to share the beauty of yoga with you through my classes.