Yoga first found me when I was still a student at university. I welcomed her after rough nights that had little to do with my studies but more often than not involved parties that on too many occasions ended with me kissing the wrong people.

It would take me more than ten years before i became a devoted and consistent student of the practice.

Well into motherhood and on the African continent, I started practicing yoga on my own every day.

When toddlers napped, I rolled out a flimsy mat and I copied the primary series from a xeroxed paper that i had brought with me. It was my little sanctuary where i could embody, process and integrate.

I read a ton of books (family that was visiting brought them in their suitcases, some of them arrived by post), I got immersed in āyurveda + yogic philosophy, and kept on returning to a daily practice.

In Congo, friends and strangers started joining me for this practice. We used an abandoned class room when the little ones ran on the grassy playfield, and i felt so at home. Teaching the sequence that had kept me sane throughout a period of moving internationally, setting up home in various new countries and raising my three lovely spirited, and slightly crazed, cubs.

When we moved to Malawi, i kept sharing a practice from our living room. That community grew quickly and organically. We converted our beautiful wooden beamed garage into a spacious yoga shala from where I taught and facilitated teacher trainings and workshops for many years.

Over the past 2 decades, I have attended a lot of teacher trainings in India, South Africa, Europe, Malawi and Bali.

I am forever grateful to my main teachers Jim Harrington, Simon Borg Olivier, Bianca Machliss, Rose Baudin, Louisa Sear and Tamsin Sheehy for their incredible teachings. They continue to inspire me, as a teacher, a student and as an earthling.