The Teacher Becomes the Student
What does it mean to be a teacher? For me, it means learning—every single day.
As I write this book, The Hot Yoga Revolution, I can’t help but reflect on one of the greatest passions of my life: leading yoga teacher trainings. Since 2005, I’ve had the privilege of guiding countless eager, curious yogis on a journey of growth, discovery, and transformation. These trainings are more than just a professional milestone—they’re a profound space where lives, including my own, are continually reshaped.
Yoga teacher training is like planting seeds in a garden. Some sprout immediately, others take years, but all grow into something beautiful. It’s a melting pot of personalities, stories, and dreams—some raw, some polished—all coming together with a shared desire to deepen their practice. Some come to teach, others to heal, and many simply to explore. And every time, I’m reminded that yoga is far more than the postures on the mat—it’s a living, breathing tradition of wisdom handed down by luminaries like Patanjali, Osho, Bikram, Iyengar, and Krishnamacharya. I feel like a bridge between this rich lineage and the students ready to carry it forward, each in their own unique way.
But here’s the thing: every training isn’t just for the students. It’s for me too. Every session brings fresh perspectives, new challenges, and moments of insight that I never expected.
There’s a saying that “the best way to master a subject is to teach it,” and I’ve found this to be true time and time again. Leading trainings forces me to revisit the teachings with fresh eyes. It’s like holding up a mirror to my own growth and asking: who am I in this moment? How can I show up fully for these students? The person I was in 2005 is not the person leading today. My understanding, my energy, my presence—they’ve all deepened, shaped by life’s lessons.
My greatest lesson -
When I first started running yoga teacher training, I was on a mission: to create impactful yoga instructors. I envisioned building a legacy of exceptional teachers, each carrying forward the torch of yoga with skill and confidence. We would meet in a room, every trainee buzzing with excitement and potential. Each person played an integral part in shaping our journey, and I felt it was essential that we finish the training strong.
But just a few weeks into one of my earliest trainings, cracks began to show. We fell behind on course material. Trainees didn’t complete their assignments. Commitments were left unfulfilled. My trainees hadn’t kept their word, and I found myself trying to mask my disappointment—faking a happiness I didn’t feel. I was determined to deliver an exceptional training, but my frustrations created a wall between me and my students.
Looking back, I have to admit something difficult: at that time, my trainees were a means to an end. I wanted to be able to say, “I lead teacher training.” It was a badge of honor, a title that signaled success. But I wasn’t truly present for my students. I wasn’t tapped into my love of yoga or my passion for people.
When someone didn’t meet my expectations or failed to show up in the way I thought they should, I shrugged them off. I decided they weren’t worth my attention and focused elsewhere. Over time, I realized there was no real connection within our group—not between me and my students, and not between the students themselves. We were all just... there.
This realization hit me hard: if I was going to be the kind of yoga instructor I aspired to be, things had to change. And that change had to start with me. I needed to open my heart, to embrace the essence of yoga—not asana or theory, but connection. I had to let go of control and outcomes and focus instead on the people right in front of me.
That’s when everything began to shift.
I dove into personal growth and spiritual practice to realign myself with my purpose. I began to see my trainees as more than students—they were divine human beings with their own lives, fears, and aspirations. And yet, there we were, gathered together in a sacred space, co-creating something so much bigger than any one of us.
The change was palpable. I began to feel the moods of others as we spoke, sensing their struggles and joys as if they were my own. I noticed a deep sense of connection emerging in our sessions—not just between me and my students, but among them as well. My work in training others became about the people in the room, not the outcomes on paper.
Yoga teacher training transformed from a task into an honor. I began to truly understand what yoga is at its core: connection. Connection to ourselves, to each other, and to something greater. When we’re truly in tune with one another, we can create magic.
That shift brought with it some of the most profound moments of my life. Watching someone overcome their fear of speaking in front of a group. Witnessing a student discover their voice for the first time. Feeling the energy of a room light up when someone takes their first confident step as a teacher.
This work has taught me that yoga isn’t about perfect alignment or flawless execution. It’s about showing up fully and authentically. It’s about creating space for others to grow and heal. And in doing so, I’ve found healing and growth within myself.
Yoga is connection. Without it, none of this would have been possible. This realization has shaped not just my approach to training but my approach to life. It’s no longer about control or expectations—it’s about meeting others where they are and sharing the journey.
When I look back now, I’m grateful for those early challenges. They forced me to confront my own ego and reminded me of yoga’s essence. Teaching isn’t just about imparting knowledge; it’s about creating an environment where connection, growth, and transformation can flourish. And that is the heart of yoga.
Let me leave you with this: What would happen if you embraced connection in every area of your life? How might it transform your relationships, your work, and your own sense of self? For me, it’s been the most powerful lesson of all. And for that, I am endlessly grateful.
Let me share a student testimonial.
During one training, a student named Sarah was struggling. She doubted her ability to lead a class, worried her voice wasn’t “good enough,” and wrestled with feelings of inadequacy. Watching her transform over the weeks was like watching a lotus bloom from the mud. By the end of the training, she stood in front of the class, leading with confidence and grace. She told me afterward, “I’ve never felt so alive.” In that moment, I realized that the trainings aren’t just about creating yoga teachers—they’re about creating ripples of transformation. Students like Sarah take their growth into the world, touching lives in ways they may never fully understand.
And yet, it’s not always smooth sailing. Trainings are intense. They draw out the raw and the real. People come with open hearts, and sometimes guarded ones too. There are long days, sweaty mats, and moments of doubt. But there are also breakthroughs, laughter, and the magic of community. I’ve had sessions where personalities clashed, tears flowed, and emotions ran high. But looking back, I see that these moments were where the deepest growth occurred—for the students and for me.
Writing this book is my way of capturing the essence of these experiences. It’s part of my legacy—a way to leave behind the stories, lessons, and wisdom I’ve gathered along the way. It’s my love letter to yoga, to the teachers who inspired me, and to the students who’ve trusted me with their growth. When I lead a training, I often share that the journey of yoga is one of constant discovery. You’ll never reach a point where you know it all, and that’s the beauty of it. I’m living proof of that. Each training, I discover something new about myself—something raw, something real.
I also see this book as a reflection of the universal connection that yoga offers. Yoga is a language that transcends age, culture, and background. It connects us to ourselves and to each other in the most profound ways. It reminds me of something one of my students, Benjamin, once taught me. He approached every class with the mindset that it was the best. Whether it was my class or another teacher’s, he found joy in the experience and reminded me that the best teacher is often ourselves.
As I wrap up this chapter of my life, both metaphorically and literally, I feel immense gratitude. Gratitude for the tradition of yoga that has shaped me. Gratitude for the students who’ve been both my inspiration and my teachers. And gratitude for the opportunity to leave behind a piece of my heart and my journey through this book.
Let me leave you with a thought: Every journey leaves footprints. What footprints will you leave behind? As you reflect on your own journey, I invite you to ask yourself: How can I keep growing, sharing, and living in alignment with my truest self? Because that, to me, is the essence of yoga—the art of showing up for life, again and again.
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