10 Gifts Yoga Has Given Me

It’s twenty-four years since I stepped onto a yoga mat for the very first time.

I have now been teaching for sixteen of those years—two years teaching children and the past fourteen years teaching adults. Looking back now, it is quite incredible to believe where the path of yoga has led me.

If you had told me 30 years ago, when I was a real estate agent living in Sydney, that I would end up being a yoga teacher, living on acreage in Brisbane, I would have laughed my head off at you. I was the ultimate city girl back then. My work was my identity.

When I first began teaching yoga, Laura was ten and Ewen was eight. I taught wherever I could and to whoever would have me—in community halls, church halls, private homes, and early-morning groups. Every bolster, blanket, block, and strap lived in the back of my little white car. There were afternoons when I would collect the kids from the bus stop, the car so full of yoga props that they would just roll their eyes and end up walking home instead.

Having my very own studio one day was a secret dream I carried in my heart for a long time—and a prop room, every yoga teacher’s dream, I am sure.

Long before that, Peter and I had moved from Sydney to Brisbane when our children were just one and three. Soon after arriving, I was diagnosed with postnatal depression. My doctor recommended antidepressants, but that was not a path I wanted to walk, so after a lot of research, I found a wonderful naturopath and began working with her. She suggested I try yoga and meditation.

I had absolutely no clue then that those two practices would change the trajectory of my life.

At the time, I lived with a relentless inner critic. I was hard on my body, hard on myself, always believing I needed to become someone better before I could finally feel enough. Like so many people, I was constantly looking outside myself for the answer.

Yoga invited me to turn inward instead. Not through force, hustle, or perfection, but through self-reflection and being present.

The ancient teachings of yoga remind us that it is the path of remembering who we already are beneath our conditioning, striving, and fear. To learn to live from a place where our outer life becomes an expression of our inner truth.

To borrow Shakespeare’s beautiful words, “To thine own self be true.”

If I’m honest, when I first began, I was a very long way from knowing myself.

As yoga has become increasingly Westernised, it’s easy to think of it primarily as physical exercise. And while caring for our bodies is important, it is the philosophy and psychology of yoga that has always interested me the most.

After finding some photos from the early days of Seed Yoga recently, I have been reflecting on the gifts yoga has given me, and I thought I would share them with my community.

1. Trusting the Natural Unfolding of Life and Meeting Life Where It Is

Perhaps the greatest lesson of all for me has been learning that life doesn’t need to be forced. As time has passed, the more I let go of the hustle and striving, the more at ease I am with the fact that things are as they are. There is nothing more I need to do. Life will keep happening regardless.

When I stop and look backwards instead of always forwards, I can see the beautiful thread of synchronicity and serendipity weaving through my life. The people I was meant to meet. The opportunities that came. The challenges and obstacles that shaped me in ways I couldn’t appreciate at the time.

Yoga has taught me that life unfolds in its own time, and that my job isn’t to control every outcome, but to participate wholeheartedly in what is here right now.

2. A Love of Learning

The ancient wisdom and teachings of yoga are incredibly rich and vast. They offer a lifetime of exploration, and I know they will continue to teach me for the rest of my life.

I am an avid reader, a book collector, and someone fascinated by what it means to be human. Whether I’m studying yoga philosophy, psychology, trauma, neuroscience, meditation, Ayurveda, or mental health, I never feel as though I’ve “arrived.” There is always another layer to explore, another perspective to consider, another thread to follow.

In yoga, we are reminded that the beginner’s mind is one of our greatest teachers. The moment we believe we know everything, we stop growing.

Over the years, I’ve completed countless trainings, workshops, and courses because I genuinely love learning. Every book I read, every conversation I have, and every training I complete adds another piece to the tapestry of understanding. Each one enriches not only my own life, but also the way I hold space for others.

And yes, one unexpected bonus of teaching yoga is that all those books and courses are tax-deductible. Hallelujah! My book-buying habit is now justifiable. My books are no longer an indulgence, but an investment! Woo hoo!

Yoga has taught me that learning isn’t just about accumulating knowledge or intellectual understanding. It is about cultivating wisdom through lived experience and allowing it to be lived, embodied, and integrated from the inside out. The body, heart, and mind are all teachers.

3. Yoga Taught Me to Befriend My Body

It has taken me many years to arrive here, but I can honestly say, with my hand on my heart, that at 56 years old, I have never had a more compassionate relationship with my body.

Yoga slowly taught me that my body is not a project to be fixed, criticised, or controlled. It is my one and only vessel for this lifetime.

For many years, I looked at my body through the lens of appearance—what needed changing, shrinking, or improving. Like so many women, I believed my worth was somehow tied to how my body looked.

Yoga invited me into a different relationship with my body.

Today, the care I offer my body is rooted in compassion, nourishment, and respect. I have learnt to listen to the language of my nervous system, to notice when I need rest instead of pushing and hustling, mindful movement instead of punishment, nourishment instead of restriction, and stillness instead of striving for more.

My body has become less of an object to manage and more of a trusted companion to care for.

It carries me through every season of my life. It breathes without asking. It heals, adapts, protects, and continues to show up for me each day. The least I can do is meet it with gratitude, presence, and kindness.

Perhaps this is one of yoga’s greatest gifts.

Not teaching us how to perfect our bodies, but how to inhabit them and come home to them.

Because this body—exactly as it is—is the only one I will ever have.

4. Yoga Has Taught Me to Trust the Voice of My Heart

Yoga has taught me to trust the wisdom of my heart.

For years, I questioned my intuition and worried that I was “too sensitive.” Over time, I have come to understand that my deep sensitivity is not a flaw to overcome, but a gift to embrace. It allows me to notice what others may miss, to meet people with empathy and compassion, and to move through the world with greater care. My sensitivity has become one of my greatest teachers.

One of the greatest gifts yoga has given me is the courage to move from living solely in my head to living from my heart. In the stillness of practice, I discovered that my heart has a wisdom of its own. The quieter I became, the easier it was to recognise its voice.

Yoga taught me to trust my sensitivity, my intuition, and my empathy—not as weaknesses, but as some of my greatest strengths.

5. Yoga Has Taught Me to Re-sensitise Myself to Life

Another great gift yoga has given me is the ability to feel life again.

For many years, I lived mostly in my mind—thinking, analysing, and trying to solve my way through life. I was totally disconnected from the felt sense of my body.

Yoga invited me back into my body, where life is actually experienced.

It re-sensitised me to the beauty, depth, and preciousness of ordinary moments: the warmth of sunlight, the rhythm of my breath, the changing seasons, laughter, grief, stillness, connection.

I realised that wisdom is not only something we think about. It is something we feel.

And perhaps that is what it truly means to be alive—not simply to work life out, but to inhabit it with our whole being.

6. Yoga Taught Me That I Already Belong

Yoga has invited me to claim my own legitimacy in the world.

Not because someone else finally gave it to me, but because I stopped looking outside myself for it.

For so much of my life, I searched for validation. I looked to other people to tell me whether I was enough, whether I belonged, whether I was doing life the “right” way.

My worth often felt conditional—something to be earned through achievement, appearance, approval, or success.

Yoga helped me to unravel that, and over the years, it has helped me reclaim something far more fundamental: the knowing that I am inherently worthy and that I belong here simply because I am here. That I do not have to continually prove my value.

Yoga has taught me to trust my own inner authority.

To discern what feels true for me, rather than constantly seeking permission from the outside world. To stand in my own values, even when they are unpopular, and to honour the wisdom of my own heart.

As I have learnt to trust myself more deeply, I have noticed something beautiful.

The essence of who I am has become less hidden.

It is as though the layers of fear, conditioning, and self-doubt—our samskaras—have gradually fallen away, allowing something that was always there to shine more brightly.

Yoga has never asked me to become someone else. It has helped me to remember who I already am.

And from that place comes a sense of belonging—not because I fit in, but because I have finally come home to myself.

7. Sangha, Connection, and Friendship

Most of my most treasured friendships have come through the sangha—the community that forms around the shared practice, values, and intention of yoga.

We may have first met on a mat, in a class or training, or through the wider yoga community, but many of these relationships have grown far beyond the practice itself.

When I was younger, I was something of a chameleon. I was great at reading the room and adapting myself to fit in. I used to think belonging meant finding a way to fit in. I really wanted to belong, but the irony was that, in trying so hard, I lost myself.

Yoga and sangha have taught me that real belonging is being able to be yourself without shrinking or shapeshifting to earn your place.

The more I have lived into my values and stopped conforming to be accepted, the more I have found friendships that feel reciprocal, generous, and real—where I can be completely myself.

These friendships nourish me. They feed my mind and soul and bring laughter, creativity, depth, and connection to my life.

We can talk about the deeper, more vulnerable things and care about the world—including the birds, the bees, and the trees—but we can also be ridiculous, laugh, dance, and eat cake together.

There is a feeling of steadiness and goodness in these friendships that I didn’t really know when I was younger. There is room for all of me, and all of them too—for our depth and our silliness, our vulnerability and strength, our creativity, contradictions, and humanness.

Everyone is included. Everyone is welcome. There is always a seat at the table.

That, for me, is another beautiful gift of yoga.

8. Finding Work That Is Meaningful and Purposeful

Teaching yoga has connected me with work that feels meaningful and helps others.

In yoga, we call this dharma—living and working in alignment with our values and what matters most to us.

Teaching yoga and holding sacred space for others at Temple Retreat has allowed me to bring together so many things I care about: connection, nervous system care, creativity, nourishment, spirituality, psychology, and the practice of embodiment.

It has also given me the privilege of sitting alongside people through different seasons of their lives and creating a space where they can slow down and reconnect to themselves.

The Bhagavad Gita, one of yoga’s foundational philosophical texts, explores, among many things, the idea of dharma—how we might live, act, and contribute in alignment with what is ours to do. It teaches us to give ourselves wholeheartedly to the work that is ours to do, without making our worth dependent upon the fruits of that work.

As I prepare to bring a new body of work, The Duty of Care, into the world, this teaching feels more relevant to me than ever. I care about this work and, of course, I hope it reaches people and contributes something meaningful. But yoga reminds me to hold those hopes without gripping them too tightly.

The Bhagavad Gita teaches us that we have a right to our actions, but not to the fruits of those actions.

Yoga teachings have helped me stay connected to my intention—my sankalpa—for my work in the world, which is:

How can I use what I have lived, learned, and been given in service of something beyond just myself?

My responsibility is to contribute in whatever way I can towards a more ethical and caring world. This is how I hope to make my life and my work useful.

9. Yoga Taught Me About the Impermanence of Life

Yoga has taught me to look death in the eye.

Death came into my life earlier than I would have chosen, if I had a say in the matter. I have lost my mum, my dad, my sister, and my father-in-law—they were all relatively young.

When people you love die, death becomes very real, no longer an abstract idea somewhere in the future. Rather than making me more fearful of life, this awareness has made me cherish life more.

There is a teaching in yoga called abhinivesha—our instinctive clinging to life and our fear of death. It is considered one of the kleshas, or causes of suffering.

This teaching reminds us that impermanence is part of being human. When we are born, we are guaranteed to die—it’s just a matter of how and when.

My curiosity about death led me to undertake my death-doula training in 2023. We have also had the privilege of holding two end-of-life celebrations on our land. Holding sacred space for people to gather, celebrate, and grieve their loved ones is a profound honour.

The thing is, the more willing I am to acknowledge death, the more precious ordinary life has become for me.

Spending time with my adult children, friends, and puppy. Being in nature. Being in my body. Eating a delicious meal. Loving all the people and animals around me while they are still here.

As I get older, this understanding deepens. My husband has just turned 60, and I am more aware than ever of time passing. Everything seems more fragile, but also more vivid.

And now, life is also opening in a new way: I am about to become a grandmother too. A baby boy is earthbound, which opens a profound tenderness I cannot really put into words. A reminder that life continues, and that I am part of something so much larger than my own brief chapter.

Yoga has taught me that looking death in the eye doesn’t make life smaller.

It makes life more precious.

It reminds me to be here for it, participate fully, and cherish this one precious life while I can.

10. Life Is Our Practice

I think the greatest gift yoga has given me is the understanding that life itself is the practice.

Yoga is not something we do, but a way that we meet life – how we speak, listen, respond, care, and stay present to it all - and so much of that practice happens in relationships.

Everything I have written about here seems to lead me back to this. These teachings are hollow if we are not living them.

Life is not perfect, which means our practice does not need to be perfect either. We do not need to transcend the complexity and nuance of our humanity, or accumulate more knowledge, or become more spiritual. Perhaps the invitation is simply to become more present and more available to the life we already have.

To love people while they are here with us. To forget and remember, forget and remember. To live more fully inside our life.