I’ve been practicing yoga for about six years now. It all started as curiosity. I am a very active person, and I was looking for a structured, safe way to stretch my body.

It was autumn 2019. I went to my gym in Stockholm, Sweden, where I was living at the time. It was one of many gyms that offered yoga classes. I stepped into the room and went straight to the teacher.

“This is my very first time doing yoga,” I said.

She smiled and said, “I’m glad you came. Just follow along, and if there is anything you don’t want to do, don’t do it.”

That shocked me. I was used to rigid gym classes like spinning, BodyPump, or HIIT workouts, where you are not only encouraged but almost forced to follow along and push your body through exhaustion. In those classes, not being able to do an exercise can feel like failure. That openness and invitation to surrender unsettled me in the best possible way.

I remember very little of what we did in that class, but I do remember how I felt afterward. Physically, it was exactly what I was looking for: my muscles felt relaxed and stretched, and I had moved in ways that felt natural and strange at the same time. I think I was moving the way my body was meant to move, but our modern lifestyle had made those patterns feel foreign.

What surprised me more was how I felt mentally. I felt calm. I felt at ease, and I left the class with a smile.

I continued going to the same class for a couple of weeks, and then COVID happened. The gym closed, like everything else, and I felt the universe had taken away something I had only just discovered. Like everyone else, I tried YouTube videos and online classes. They filled the void and kept me learning, but it was not the same. There’s something special about going to a studio with other people and a teacher moving through the room, giving cues and occasionally assisting students. It feels more like a community.

When studios opened again, I started taking classes regularly. I tried different studios, teachers, and styles.

Life eventually brought me to New York City. I tried several studios here and often found a very different atmosphere from the one I had known in Sweden: classes with music so loud the teacher had to shout to be heard, a constant sense of rush, and generally little interaction with students.

One day, through some friends, I found Abhaya Yoga. I will always remember my first class. Tara, the studio owner and teacher, came over to ask my name and whether there was anything she could help me with. It brought me back to that first class in Stockholm and immediately made me feel safe and seen. This time, I do remember the class. There was no music, and the energy was strong yet present and calm. Tara talked about the muscles involved in the asanas and how rotating your arms one way or another changes how a joint feels. She wove the story of a sage through the class, keeping us engaged and attentive. I knew from day one that I wanted to learn from her and make Abhaya my home studio.

After almost three years of practicing regularly at Abhaya, I decided I wanted to complete a YTT (Yoga Teacher Training). I had seriously considered it for a year, but it was never the right time: too much work, too much travel, and always something else. In September 2024, my mum passed away. She was an incredible person with a deep love of life, and she wanted to do so many things she ultimately did not have time to do. That was, of course, a hard time for me, but it also brought a new perspective: a sudden awareness that time moves on and that we are finite. I decided that if I really wanted to do something, I would do my best to start now rather than wait for the perfect moment. Because, let’s be honest, the perfect moment never arrives. There is always going to be something.

I learned so much from the training: anatomy, philosophy, history, and meditation. I also made a wonderful group of new friends.

I continue practicing at Abhaya, and I now teach regularly too. I find teaching yoga rewarding in so many ways, and I often learn more than I teach. I will share more about that in the future. For now, I will leave you with one reflection:

We are finite, and our time in this world is limited – so try to live with presence and intention.

With love, Guillermo