the story behind the name

I've been in the world of yoga for a long time now. More than a decade of teaching, managing studios, training teachers, navigating growth, making plenty of my own mistakes, and trying to create spaces that feel both meaningful and sustainable. When I look back, it's interesting to see how many different versions of this work I've lived through. There have been seasons where everything felt expansive and exciting, seasons where I was deeply inspired, seasons where I was completely exhausted, and plenty where I was somehow all of those things at once.

One thing I've noticed over the years is that loving your work doesn't necessarily make it easy to carry.

In fact, some of the most challenging moments have come in the areas of my life that matter most to me. The things I care about deeply are often the things that ask the most of me. Yoga has been one of those things. Community has been one of those things. Leadership has certainly been one of those things.

I've had countless conversations with teachers over the years who find themselves standing in a similar place. They love what they do. They care deeply about their students. They want to keep growing. And yet they're also navigating the very real realities of teaching… building something, making choices, setting boundaries, managing relationships, and figuring out how to sustain themselves while caring for everyone around them.

I think for a long time I viewed those challenges as separate from the practice. There was yoga, and then there was everything else. Over time, that separation has become harder for me to maintain.

The longer I do this work, the more I find myself interested in the places where those worlds overlap. I'm interested in what happens when we bring the same curiosity, self-awareness, and intentionality that we cultivate through practice into the way we communicate, build, and care for the things we've created.

In many ways, that's where mentorship began for me. It started because these were the conversations I found myself having again and again. Conversations about growth. About capacity. About burnout. About leadership. About navigating change. About building something meaningful without feeling like you have to sacrifice yourself in the process.

I don't think any of us ever fully arrive at the answers. I know I certainly haven't. But I do believe there is something valuable about having space to ask better questions, to reflect honestly on where you are, and to be supported by someone who understands the unique challenges that come with holding space for others while also trying to hold space for yourself.

That's the heart of mentorship for me. Just creating room for thoughtful conversation, reflection, and the kind of support that helps you move forward in a way that feels sustainable.