Still Teaching Yoga?

Occasionally, someone will ask me, “Are you still teaching yoga?” Interestingly, no one ever asks, “Are you still practising medicine?”

Right now, I’m in the middle of a long sabbatical.  Stepping back from everything — medicine, teaching, management, emails, schedules - I gave myself months with no responsibilities and no deadlines, time simply to be.  To let dust settle and ideas float in clear air.

I knew it would happen at some point - that itch to ‘do’ something again. I wondered what I might start to miss first. Would it be patients? Or my colleagues? Teaching?  Or something else? In the open space of past months, my mind kept circling back to yoga. Of all the things I’ve done professionally, it’s been as clear as day that teaching yoga is the first thing I’ve wanted to restart.

It’s not that teaching is easier than practising medicine — it isn’t. In many ways, it feels harder.  And yet, during this break, most of my mental energy has been on yoga rather than medicine - how to practice it; how to live it; how to share it.

And I’ve been asking myself: 

Why? What is it about yoga that keeps calling me back above all else?

So many thoughts, but here I share a few reflections… 

Reflections Rising

Yoga has taught me, again and again, that health and well-being are not luxuries. They are the foundation for everything else. The energy, clarity, and steadiness we offer others come only from patiently and diligently tending to our own body, breath, and mind. To truly share what yoga offers, I have to practice what I preach.
Yoga makes me accountable.

Practice has shown me that slowing down is not only possible but essential. Time and energy can be shaped and directed toward what matters most to us, not just what feels urgent.
Yoga creates spaciousness.

Yoga has expanded my concept of health far beyond what I learned in medicine. Medicine taught me to be present with suffering and to fight what can be fixed; yoga gives me tools to meet suffering differently — to seek to understand and learn rather than resist.
Yoga widens my perspective.

This is where I learned everything I know about the nervous system, and how much its state colours our daily experience. When we learn to shift that state toward balance, our experience of life changes radically, and solutions often arise naturally from within.
Yoga empowers.

A teacher once told me, ‘There is no body without an issue.’ Students’ injuries and ailments, as well as many of my own, have become useful teachers. Yoga offers a positive path to ageing, welcoming wisdom and freedom rather than fear. It gives me faith that vitality of mind, body, and spirit can be sustained.
Yoga makes me grateful.

Yoga reinforces what I’ve long known: there are no shortcuts, no magic pills. It’s a long game — balancing being and becoming. The work needs to be done, and we need to urge each other to show up for ourselves and one another.
Yoga humbles.

Transformative practices are never smooth sailing. When we change ourselves (or are forced to change), discomfort is inevitable. Unpleasant emotions like doubt, resentment, and loss pepper the path. Despite this, yoga beckons us not to run away, but to face it all with courage.
Yoga makes me brave.

Perhaps most of all, teaching yoga has shown me that connection matters more than expertise. In some ways, yoga feels like an exercise in connection disguised as exercise for the body. Skills are important, but what lingers longer is the presence we share — the space, the time, the love.
Yoga fosters community.

Back to the Mat

Even in this season of deliberate rest, yoga rises to the top of my thoughts. Can you tell?

It’s the work I’m returning to before anything else.

And I’d love to hear from you:
What practices, people, or places do you find yourself called back to again and again?
What is it about them that keeps drawing you in?

Let’s practice.