I passionately believe in helping people find strength, cultivate mindfulness and support those seeking emotional healing through yoga.

My teaching mantra is: Yoga is for everyone and everyone’s yoga is different. Yoga has been my anchor and allowed me to grow stronger and more connected to my body so that I may live more powerfully off the mat. I honor that in my classes by creating a space which enables students to explore sensation in the body, support their nervous system and make decisions that are best for their personal practice. I seek to create an atmosphere to connect with breath, stillness, movement and laughter, while integrating additional healing modalities such as Reiki and meditation.

Together and with intention, we can develop a personalized practice to unite body, breath and movement.

Reach out and let's meet on the mat!

Yoga has brought peace, strength, and heart to my life and I am deeply grateful for the many wonderful teachers I have encountered in my yoga journey, including:

• Kate Graham, founder of Soulful Yoga, and Alex Bauermeister with whom I earned my certification to teach Yoga for Emotional Health and Healing; and Michelle Heron, Reiki Master, with whom I earned my second degree Reiki healing certification in the Usui tradition.

• Lorraine Shedoudi, of Lexington Power Yoga, Jacqui Bonwell and Alyssa Hale with whom I am studying for my 300-Hour Advanced Teacher Training.

• Independently, I am certified as a TRX Refleksiv Yoga® instructor, SPA Yoga® teacher, and a member of Yoga Alliance® as an E-RYT 200. I am CPR certified with the American Red Cross and have completed Heads Up Concussion training in 2019.

• I became an RYT 200 studying with Rob Sidoti and Chuck Raffoni.

• I am acting Community Outreach Coordinator for Borealis Community Yoga

BLOG POST July 15, 2020

"The Office and Oreos"

If I wrote a memoir based on the past four months of my life, it might be titled: "Quarantine: The Office, Oreos and yoga pants". Not terribly inspiring.

And neither was I...

Life came to a screeching halt. When I stepped outside, I was acutely aware of the stillness. There was a weird shift in how I perceived time. I had loads of it on my hands, and yet the days were busy: wiping down door knobs, cataloguing bean inventory, scouring the internet for no-knead bread recipes and relentlessly watching the number of cases. I definitely wasn’t finding new hobbies or posting fabulous musings about what I learned about myself; it was all about getting through the day and making it to dinner. My nervous system was in full survivor mode. Even though I had all these amazing tools at my disposal (meditation, yoga, exercise), I wavered between fight and freeze mode. I couldn’t access my breath. I couldn’t feel my feet on the ground. I didn’t feel anything other than low-grade panic.

One night, I got distracted from worrying while wiping down the _______(fill in the blank). I didn’t hear anything other than the ringing in my ears and the constant story of “what if” in my head, but then someone laughed and it scared the hell out of me. It was my son and he was watching a rerun of “The Office” with my daughter. They were three feet away from me and I hadn’t noticed them. I immediately burst into tears because I was scared that I hadn’t seen them and really scared that I felt this way. Without saying anything, my daughter guided me over to the sofa, sat close and we finished the episode. Another one started, and I stayed to watch, partially out of sheer exhaustion from crying and partially because it felt so good to be with my kids.

We started meeting on the sofa for “Family TV Time” every night. Then we upgraded it and added Oreos. The days were still full and I was clinging on to wearing the same yoga pants as I waited for Spring to come, but I found something that helped give my nervous system a break from the constant danger surveillance. I realized that my kids were doing the same thing.

With that break, I found a little bit of space to cultivate a greater capacity and be able to respond instead of react (or worse-shut down). We are all in the same canoe and need to know that we can rely on each other. Give yourself that break. Just for a minute.

And maybe add an Oreo...