Why I'm Drawn to Yoga: Part 4: Yoga is Always There
When I think about why yoga has stayed with me for more than two decades, I often come back to one simple thing:
Yoga meets me where I am.
That has become even more meaningful to me as I've moved through different seasons of my life.
Before yoga became such a big part of my life, movement looked very different. As a Division 1 softball pitcher at Boston University, I was used to pushing my body, training hard, competing, and constantly asking myself, What more can I do?
Strength mattered. Performance mattered. Being better, faster, stronger mattered.
And I still love movement. But yoga taught me something I didn't fully understand back then:
There is a difference between pushing your body and listening to your body.
That lesson has followed me through every chapter since.
I've lived and taught in different places around the world. I've practiced yoga in studios, gyms, living rooms, hotel rooms, airports, parks, beaches, and wherever I could find a little space to roll out a mat—or sometimes where I didn't have a mat at all.
I've practiced with beautiful views and with four walls around me.
I've practiced surrounded by people and completely by myself.
I've practiced when I felt strong and energized, and I've practiced when my body was asking me to slow way down.
And then came another chapter that changed my relationship with my body in ways I never expected: perimenopause and menopause.
Suddenly, some of the things I had always relied on—my energy, my sleep, my ability to push through, the way my body responded to exercise—started to change.
I couldn't approach my body the same way I had when I was a collegiate athlete.
And honestly, I didn't always know what to do with that.
Yoga became one of the places where I could stop fighting those changes and start listening to them.
Instead of asking, How hard can I push today?
I began asking:
What does my body need today?
Sometimes the answer was movement.
Sometimes it was strength.
Sometimes it was stretching.
And sometimes it was simply lying down, breathing, and allowing myself to rest.
That shift has been incredibly powerful for me.
It's also one of the reasons I feel so strongly about creating yoga experiences that allow people to come exactly as they are. Because I've learned firsthand that our bodies change. Our energy changes. Our needs change. Our lives change.
And our practice can change with us.
Now, after moving around the world and experiencing so many different places, I've found myself settling into Beaver Dam, Wisconsin. And something about that feels really special.
Home isn't just a physical place. It's the people we connect with, the communities we build, and the spaces where we feel like we belong.
Yoga has allowed me to create those connections wherever I've gone.
And now I get to share that practice here.
That feels like a full-circle moment.
Because yoga doesn't require much.
No fancy equipment.
No expensive membership.
No perfect body.
No special clothing.
No beautifully decorated studio.
You don't even need a yoga mat.
You simply need a willingness to show up.
I've practiced standing, sitting in a chair, lying on the floor, and sometimes simply focusing on my breath when movement wasn't possible.
And the older I get, the more I appreciate that simplicity.
Yoga is always there.
On the days when I have an hour to dedicate to my practice, yoga is there.
On the days when I have five minutes, yoga is there.
On the days when I'm traveling, yoga is there.
On the days when I'm tired, hormonal, stressed, strong, joyful, uncertain, or simply needing a moment to myself…
Yoga is there.
It doesn't ask me to be stronger, more flexible, younger, or more experienced before I begin.
It simply invites me to start where I am.
That's why yoga has remained such a constant in my life.
Through teaching and traveling.
Through moving around the world.
Through injuries and celebrations.
Through perimenopause and menopause.
Through finding my way to Beaver Dam and creating a new sense of community.
My practice has changed countless times, but it has never really left me.
And maybe that's the greatest gift yoga has given me.
It isn't something I have to do perfectly.
It is something I can return to.
Again and again.
Wherever I am.
Whatever season I'm in.
Whatever my body needs.
Yoga is always there.
And I am incredibly grateful for that.