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Two years.
That’s how long it’s been since I last stepped barefoot into a yoga studio, rolled out my mat, and took that deep, intentional breath—the kind that somehow seems to settle your bones and stir your spirit all at once.
It wasn’t a conscious break at first. Life just… kept happening. But the truth is, there was one moment that changed everything.
The Day I Stepped Away
It was the summer of 2023, and I had just finished a long day of work—running mostly on caffeine and very little water. Not exactly ideal hydration for a hot yoga class, but there I was, stepping into the studio anyway.
It was 113°F inside. And as luck would have it, my mat landed right under the heater.
I don’t remember how far into the practice I got before it hit me—but when it did, it hit hard. Heat exhaustion doesn’t exactly tap you on the shoulder. It rushes in, loud and dizzying. But being who I am, I wasn’t about to sit there and “push through it.” I knew better. I jumped up (probably a little dramatically), weaved through the rows of yogis mid-pose, and headed straight for the restroom. Thank everything that it had AC and cold water.
Even with the quick thinking and cool-down, it still took me three full days to feel like myself again. My body was wrecked. My nervous system was rattled. And from that moment on, I told myself, I’ll give it a little time before I go back.
But you know how that story goes.
I gave myself time… and then life took the rest. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. A little home yoga here and there, sure—but nothing like the rhythm, the discipline, the grounding energy of being in the studio, on a schedule, with a community.
And still—I kept saying, I’m going to go back.
Why Now?
Because if I thought I was busy two years ago, I had no idea. Life didn’t slow down. In fact, it picked up speed, multiplied in complexity, and demanded more of me than ever before.
But here’s the thing about burnout: it doesn’t knock first. It barges in. And when it does, you either pause on purpose—or you’re forced to pause later.
So here I am.
Back on my mat. Back in the studio. Back to basics.
And I couldn’t be happier.
The First Class Back
Walking into the studio felt like a reunion with an old friend. The smell of sage and sweat. The soft hum of music. The gentle, knowing nod from the teacher who recognized me, even though we both pretended not to make a big deal out of it.
I rolled out my mat, sat down, and closed my eyes.
And in that moment—before even a single stretch—I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
Presence.
There was no to-do list. No inbox. No multitasking. Just me, my breath, and a promise to come home to myself.
The class itself? Humbling. My hamstrings were like, “Excuse me, ma’am?” and my balance was… let’s call it experimental. But it didn’t matter. Because I wasn’t there to perform. I was there to remember.
A New Kind of Dedication
I’m not the same person I was two years ago. I’ve grown, stretched, unraveled, and rebuilt. And now, I’m choosing to dedicate myself—not in some grand, dramatic way—but in the quiet consistency of showing up.
- One breath at a time.
- One class at a time.
- One “I’m doing this for me” at a time.
Because life isn’t slowing down. But that doesn’t mean I have to speed up. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is slow down on purpose and remember who you are beneath all the busy.
And today? This first day back?
It feels better than amazing.
It feels like coming home.
According to Yoga Journal, consistent practice can significantly improve flexibility and mental clarity during your yoga comeback.
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