"Alone, we can do so little; together, we can do so much."

- Helen Keller

1st April 2020. 

I am shut in my bedroom, isolating during the peak of COVID-19, wondering what on earth was going to happen next.  I’m sure you remember that strange time too.  The uncertainty, the isolation.  The rapid shift of everything onto a screen - work, friendships, exercise, and yoga. 

The following week, I taught my first class online.  At the time, few of us knew whether yoga through a screen would work.  We simply needed it to.  And somehow, it did. We kept moving, breathing, and being together when so much of life suddenly felt frightening and unknown.  

As COVID became a distant memory, some things remained.  Happily, online classes did too and for good reasons.  What I couldn’t believe was possible then is still happening today - a Zoom class can offer connection, community, reach and intimacy more than I ever thought possible.

Six years, and I'm equally amazed and grateful to still be Zooming in to share yoga on a Saturday morning.

Grateful that people can join class tired, busy, anxious, in pyjamas, late, early, on camera, off camera, with dogs, cats and other various family members, from wherever they happen to be.  

Grateful that online practice somehow manages to lower barriers and remove just enough friction to make showing up easier for many of us. 

Grateful that the online choice is sometimes the difference between practicing and not practicing at all.

Grateful that it’s one of the rare times I actually look forward to being in front of a screen these days, whether as a student or a teacher.

Where’s the Record Button again?? 🥴

Still Faithful to Zoom

I’ve been looking back at the early videos of myself teaching in my living room and wondering how this strange medium has shaped me into the teacher I am, for better or worse.  I am also thinking: I’m still wearing the same bleeding outfits!!  I reckon my teaching has changed, and will continue to evolve, even if my yoga clothes apparently don’t.  

This week, I’ve been searching for ring lights, monitors, and thinking about camera angles - I periodically fret about how to improve the online experience.  My students may be forgiving enough to indulge me as I change my tech, tweak the camera and experiment here and there.

Maybe some of it will help.  But I should be honest with myself - it’s not the main reason people come.  

I think back to those first weeks going online in April 2020.  None of it mattered then. Not the video quality, not the microphone, not my outfit, not the mess in the living room.  Probably not even the quality of my teaching.

What mattered was that I was there.  That we were there.  

Showing up for each other.  

In Touching Distance

There is something very special, of course, about being together in person.  

The things I love most about practicing and teaching in person: collective energy, the chance to see familiar faces and meet new ones, and probably my favourite thing of all and the thing I can’t get from a screen: touch. 

A hand on a shoulder. A blanket tucked around tired feet.  The wordless energy of being held.  The transmission of care between us.  

As a student, I love to practice both online and in person. 

Because…you know what… I want - and can have - it all! 

This spring, I’m happy to be covering a few in-person classes myself in London in April and May alongside the usual online offerings — I would love to see you if you are in town.

Online

Join Here  👉[Saturday morning Hatha] The full schedule is up until June
Join Here  👉[Sunday evening Restorative] Next class is 19th April

In Studio

Tuesday 14th April 19.00 pm at The Arc Collective, Islington 👉[Restorative Yoga]

Sunday 17th May 18.30 pm at Triyoga, Camden  👉[Restorative Yoga]

Saturday 23rd May 15.30 pm at Triyoga, Camden 👉 [Restorative Yoga]

Stay Connected

Six years ago, COVID reminded us of something that was true then and is still true now.  With online classes still continuing as a legacy of that time, I am reminded of the essence of what we knew then:

We need connection.

We need ritual.

We need spaces that are held for us.

We need to feel that we are not doing everything alone.

And those things can happen in many forms.  

Perhaps what matters most is not how we do it or which medium we prefer.  Online, in person, mind and body.  Who cares?  But let’s keep finding ways to come together.  

Let’s practice.