March Times
It’s March on Maui, and I’ve been spending my mornings with hands in the dirt, digging, planting, and letting the island breeze reset my rhythm. Gardening is the kind of simple practice that reminds me why teaching yoga works best when it stays close to the earth: clear attention, patient effort, steady breath. The soil has its own curriculum: prepare, plant, water, wait, and familiar poses seems to echo that same sequence.
U.S. stops, then Europe
I’m here only briefly before heading back on tour. Later this month I’ll be in Boston, followed by Austin and Doylestown in April, then across the Atlantic to kick off the Europe leg in Brussels. Each stop will weave practical alignment, breath pacing, and sequencing you can take home, because teaching yoga should feel useful the very next day you step on the mat.
Practice notes you can try today
If you want a quick reset, pick one anchor poses (something familiar), then give it three minutes of honest curiosity: What softens when the jaw relaxes? What strengthens when the feet wake up? Small adjustments, big returns. The aim of teaching yoga isn’t more tricks; it’s better listening, inside transitions, and inside attention.
A thought to travel with
“We do all this physical stuff with the ultimate goal of realizing we are not this physical stuff.” Let the poses be the doorway, not the destination. The posture is temporary; the presence you cultivate lasts longer than any shape. As the schedule fills and flights pile up, I’ll keep that reminder close: enjoy the work, laugh often, and keep the learning light on its feet.
See you soon in Mysore on Maui trails, New England floors, Texas studios, Pennsylvania mornings, and a bright room in Brussels, where teaching yoga meets community, and practice yoga keeps pointing us gently home.
