taking the summer off (and learning how to slow the fuck down)

if you've been wondering where i've been this summer, here's the story.

in february, on friday the 13th — one week after i turned 25, got engaged to the love of my life, and two weeks before starting a whole new career adventure - everything shifted.

i had just spent the week moving my body with so much love, care, and excitement. i felt strong. inspired. grounded. i was upside down in sirsasana at my little downtown studio when i felt something in my neck tweak.

badly.

i slowly rolled out of the pose and immediately knew something wasn't right.

i called my husband in tears, and he came and picked me, my bike, and all my fears up from the studio.

i didn't know it then, but that little moment would change the next few months of my life.

i stopped teaching for a couple of weeks because i could barely sit, stand, move, drive, turn my head, or honestly exist without pain. eventually i started feeling better, so i came back to teaching.

then it would flare up again after class.

i'd rest.

i'd heal.

i'd teach.

i'd hurt.

it became this heartbreaking little loop that made me question everything.

after countless appointments, i finally got some answers. i had torn my levator scapulae — the muscle that connects your shoulder blade up into your neck and traps.

in march, i made the incredibly difficult decision to step away from teaching at quantum.

that same month, i started a new career that i knew was going to ask a lot of me. i was going to work with fairies 🧚 (ifykyk).

and i sloooooooowed down.

or... i was forced to.

i cried. i grieved. i was wildly dramatic at times. but honestly? all those feelings needed somewhere to go.

for so long, yoga has been such a huge part of my identity that not being able to show up the way i wanted felt like losing a piece of myself.

as an aquarius it has always felt so weird to devote any time or energy to the hand that feeds me (ie corporate, ie governement), but also - my south node is in capricorn - i have a business degree, as much as i am a revolutionary hippy raised driven yogi - there has always been this grounded, ambitious, structure-loving part of me - and she finally wanted to be heard and held.

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this season gave her space.

and maybe she needed it.

more than anything though, my body was screaming one very clear message:

slow. the. fuck. down.

at my last job, i was regularly working 50+ hour weeks, practicing at a studio almost every day, and teaching three classes a week.

it was amazing but it was a lot, but my hate for the corporation made it much easier to devote my time and energy to my "side hustle".

this new chapter has been different.

the fairies 🧚 have been so lovely to me.

i’ve loved going to work, ive loved learning, ive loved this new season

i‘ve already been through all me and my husbands physio, accu, massage, osteo etc benefits - that have helped me slowly heal.

and i tried something i am not comfortable with at all..

external weight and strength training at a too bright - not safe for nervous system at all gym!

turns out, being hypermobile and bendy is really fun until your stabilizing muscles decide they've had enough.

mama needed to become sturdy.

strong.

supported.

not just flexible.

so instead of teaching multiple classes a week, forcing myself in a hot room to do a million chaturangas - i spent my time learning how to build strength, trust my body again, and maybe, for the first time in a long time, learn how to rest without feeling guilty.

which, honestly, is no small lesson during the most beautifully chaotic yang season of the year.

i've missed my quantum cuties more than i can explain.

i subbed there over the last couple of weeks, and the second i stepped into that room i felt it.

that innate knowing.

that feeling of dharma that only arrives when i'm holding space with other humans.

it reminded me that this isn't something i have to force.

it's something that lives inside me.

and it isn't going anywhere.

this summer has been full in all the best ways.

island hopping.

bass coast bopping.

friend kissing.

mother-daughter adventures.

camping.

river floating.

gym bro-ing (still can't believe i'm saying that).

little home practices on my patio.

a new career.

a new rhythm.

and somewhere in all of that, i found a softer version of myself.

one that doesn't need to do everything all at once.

one that knows rest isn't the opposite of purpose—it's often what brings us back to it.

so as we move toward autumn, i'm welcoming teaching back into my life.

not because i have something to prove.

not because i feel behind.

not because i think i need to hustle harder.

but because i genuinely missed it.

i'm coming back with more presence.

less expectation.

stronger shoulders !!!!!

a softer heart.

and so, so much gratitude for every single one of you who waited, checked in, came to my classes when i could teach, and reminded me that this community exists far beyond the walls of a yoga studio.

thank you for giving me the space to become the teacher—and the human—that i'm meant to be.

i can't wait to practice together again. ♡

Sitting Among My Teachers: On Honour, Humility, and Coming Home

Last night was one of those moments that lives inside you — the kind of experience that softens something within while simultaneously igniting a deeper fire. I had the immense honour of sitting in a room surrounded by some of my favourite teachers, mentors, and guides during our studio meeting. Humans who have not only inspired me on my journey but who, quite literally, taught me how to teach.

These are the teachers who have shaped my voice, my practice, and my heart. The ones whose classes I step into multiple times a week. The ones who continue to remind me what it means to show up — fully, authentically, and with devotion. To sit among them as both a student and a teacher was humbling beyond words.

Even now, as I write, my heart is full and a little tender. To be invited into that space felt sacred — not just because of who was there, but because of the intention that brought us together: to learn, to listen, and to grow as a community.

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The Honour of Being in the Room

From the moment I arrived, I could feel the energy humming — the collective devotion, the years of experience, the love of practice radiating from everyone around me. I paused often just to breathe it in, knowing I was witnessing something rare and deeply special.

I’ve always believed yoga is less about the shapes we make and more about the spaces we create — within ourselves and together. Last night reminded me of that truth in the most profound way. The room itself felt alive — with wisdom, with presence, with the subtle energy of something bigger than any one of us.

When Imposter Syndrome Walks In

And yet, as beautiful as it was, sitting in that room also brought up a deep wave of imposter syndrome.

As sharing began — sharing their insights, their experiences, their years of study and devotion — I felt that familiar tug:

"Do I belong here? Am I enough? Have I earned this seat?"

These are the humans who shaped me. Who taught me how to guide breath, how to hold space, how to move bodies and souls with intention. To sit beside them as a peer felt both surreal and intimidating.

But somewhere between the silence and the laughter, something shifted. I remembered that being part of this circle isn’t about knowing everything. It isn’t about mastery or perfection or comparison. It’s about showing up fully — as a student first, with curiosity and humility, always willing to learn.

Yoga, after all, isn’t something we arrive at. It’s something we return to — over and over again. And as I softened into that truth, the doubts quieted. I realized I belong here, not because I have it all figured out, but because I’m willing to keep showing up.

A Living, Breathing Community

More than anything, last night reminded me that yoga is alive. It’s not something fixed on the mat or bound to the poses; it moves through us — hand to hand, heart to heart. It lives in the way we gather, in the stories we share, and in the quiet moments between words when presence says more than language ever could.

To sit among the very humans who taught me how to teach — the ones who continue to guide me multiple times a week, who shape the way I hold space, and who inspire me endlessly — felt like being cradled in the roots of this practice. It was a reminder of the lineage we’re all a part of, this invisible thread that connects teacher to student, student to teacher, over and over again.

I left carrying a sense of possibility, a quiet knowing that there is still so much more to explore — in my own practice, in community, and in the spaces we create together. And beneath it all, I left carrying gratitude.

Gratitude for this space. Gratitude for this path.
Gratitude for these teachers.
Gratitude for the reminder that none of us are walking it alone.

Closing the Circle

As I write these words, I feel a deep sense of belonging — not because of achievement or expertise, but because last night reminded me of something simple and profound:

We’re all walking this path together.
Teachers, students, seekers, humans.

We learn from each other. We hold each other. We inspire each other.

What began as a night meant for connection and alignment within our beautiful space unfolded into something much deeper — an invitation into introspection, gratitude, and reflection. I left feeling cracked open in the most expansive way, so full of reverence for this practice and this community that it inspired me to sit here today and write these words.

I am humbled, honoured, and endlessly grateful to keep learning alongside such incredible beings — the ones who lit this path for me and continue to guide me forward.

To everyone in that room: thank you. For your wisdom, your generosity, and the spaces you create where we can gather, soften, and grow together.

With so much love and devotion,
Sativa

My Journey as a Yoga Teacher: A Reflection of Balance, Devotion, and Transformation

My name, Sativa, carries deep significance, rooted in the divine love story of the Hindu deities Sati and Shiva. Their relationship is a beautiful symbol of unwavering devotion, balance, and cosmic transformation. Sati, the goddess of loyalty and self-sacrifice, loved Shiva, the god of yoga and transformation, with a devotion that transcended life and death. This eternal connection between the divine feminine and masculine energies inspires my own journey with yoga.

Much like the balance between Shiva's dynamic energy and Sati's serene devotion, I strive to bring harmony into my teaching, intertwining movement and stillness, strength and surrender. My name is not just a reminder of this cosmic balance but also a reflection of the balance I seek to help my students find in their own lives, both on and off the mat.

My Early Journey with Yoga

Yoga has been with me since birth, thanks to the influence of my mother. For all 23 years of my life, it has been my constant guide, supporting me through the highs and lows. Growing up as a competitive dancer, yoga provided the grounding I needed to balance the physical and emotional demands of the sport. It taught me how to listen to my body, to be mindful of alignment, and to find moments of stillness amidst the whirlwind of movement.

This early connection to yoga shaped me into the compassionate and insightful instructor I am today. My personal practice has evolved over the years, informed by countless hours of learning and teaching. I’ve come to deeply value the balance of yin and yang—two opposing yet complementary forces that mirror the natural rhythms of life. In my classes, I incorporate this philosophy to create a blend of dynamic flow and restorative stillness, helping students cultivate both strength and flexibility.

From Dance to Yoga

My background in competitive dance gave me a profound understanding of body movement, alignment, and flow. These skills translate seamlessly into my yoga teaching, where I emphasize proper alignment and mindful, dance-like transitions. I believe that yoga should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their experience level, so my classes are designed to meet students where they are while challenging them to grow. Whether guiding a beginner or an advanced practitioner, I focus on helping my students build both physical strength and inner awareness.

Grateful for My Teachers

I owe much of my growth as a yoga teacher to the many remarkable mentors I’ve had the privilege of learning from. These teachers have shared their wisdom with me, and their insights continue to influence my practice and teaching style. Each day, I am filled with gratitude for their guidance, and it is this gratitude that fuels my desire to share yoga with others. Through teaching, I aim to pass on the transformative power of yoga, helping my students achieve physical, mental, and emotional balance.

Teaching Philosophy: Balance and Transformation

Yoga, for me, is a practice of transformation. It’s not just about the poses or the physical benefits—it’s about cultivating a deeper connection to oneself and finding balance in life. This philosophy underpins everything I do as a yoga teacher. In my classes, I create an environment where students can explore their own potential, whether through a challenging flow or a restorative yin practice. I encourage them to listen to their bodies, honor their needs, and embrace the journey of self-discovery that yoga offers.

Through compassionate guidance, I hope to inspire my students to embark on their own journeys with yoga. I aim to foster physical health, mental clarity, and emotional resilience in everyone who practices with me. Whether you're seeking balance, strength, or a deeper sense of self, yoga has the power to transform your life—as it has transformed mine.

By sharing my journey as a yoga teacher, I hope to inspire others to explore the profound practice of yoga and discover the balance and transformation it can bring. Join me on the mat as we cultivate harmony between movement and stillness, strength and surrender, and the divine balance within ourselves.