When the World Paused, I Turned Inward
(A Reflection on My Yoga Journey and 200-Hour Teacher Training)
More than a certificate - a reminder of everything I uncovered, released, and stepped into.
My first experience with yoga was with my mom, and I remember thinking it just wasn’t for me. At the time, I saw it purely as a physical practice. All I remember from that first class was how long we held each pose and how I couldn’t wait for the class to be over. I couldn’t drop into my body at all. I was completely in my head, ruminating the entire time - How long have we been in this pose? When is the next one coming? How much longer is this class? I didn’t realize then that the mental chatter was part of the journey.
Yoga seemed to be everywhere. People talked about it with this kind of reverence, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I was missing. I knew there had to be something deeper - something more - because of how devoted so many people were to the practice. It made me curious: Why does everyone love this so much? What is it that they’re feeling that I’m not?
Looking back, my first experience with yoga reflected what’s common in many Western yoga spaces - a focus on the physical practice, fast-paced flows, and the “burn.” What I didn’t realize yet was how deeply spiritual, emotional, and introspective it could be. I hadn’t been exposed to the roots of the practice - the parts that go beyond the poses and into how we live, breathe, and show up in the world - both on and off the mat.
Over the years, my perspective slowly started to shift. I found teachers whose classes introduced me to a more intentional, spiritual side of the practice. Their energy, their cues, and the way they held space felt like extensions of how they moved through the world - grounded, present, and deeply connected.
I had just left my first post-college job - a role that no longer felt aligned or fulfilling. I quit, started nannying to support myself, and was preparing to move to Spain. I was being mindful of money at the time, and paying for studio classes wasn’t realistic. I discovered work trade opportunities at two studios in La Jolla, where I worked the front desk for a few hours a week in exchange for unlimited classes. That experience not only made yoga financially accessible - it rooted me in the community. I got to know the teachers, the regulars, the rhythm of studio life. And for the first time, I didn’t just feel like I was practicing yoga - I felt like I was living it. The values, the energy, the philosophy - it all started to sink in and become a part of me.
In 2021, as the intensity of the pandemic began to ease and life slowed down, I, like so many others, found myself turning inward. I had moved back to San Diego from San Francisco, was working from home, and felt disconnected. I was craving community, connection, grounding, and a deeper sense of purpose.
I started exploring teacher training programs, not with the intention of becoming an instructor, but simply to deepen my own practice. I visited several studios and took classes from the teachers who were leading the trainings to get a feel for their style and the space. When I walked into Riffs Studio and met Karina - the teacher leading their upcoming YTT - something just clicked. The studio space felt like an oasis: open-air, lush with tropical plants, and close enough to the ocean that you could hear the waves during savasana. It felt like Hawaii in the middle of San Diego, and during a pandemic, that was everything.
Our YTT deck aka our little slice of paradise :)
Karina introduced me to Alana, who had taken the training the year before. Her story mirrored parts of mine - she had also worked in tech in San Francisco and made a huge life pivot after completing her YTT. We instantly connected, and hearing how the training had changed her life sealed it for me. I got the last spot so it felt almost serendipitous.
The training itself was immersive: Friday evenings, full Saturdays and Sundays, several hours a day for a few months. We broke down every pose, studied the history of yoga, and explored both Eastern philosophy and Western influence. Karina had studied in India and was intentional about grounding us in the true roots and origin of yoga. She honored the depth and spirituality of the practice while also helping us understand how it’s been adapted — and often watered down — in Western culture. She held space for both perspectives without judgment, but it was clear the traditional teachings remained at the core of her approach
I still remember our very first evening together. Karina stood at the front of the open-air studio and asked, “How many of you are planning to teach?” Out of fifteen of us, only one person raised their hands. It was not me. And yet, more than half of our group eventually went on to teach in some capacity. That moment sticks with me - a reminder that yoga teacher training isn’t just for those already set on teaching. It’s for anyone ready to go deeper, to understand themselves more fully, and to embody the practice beyond the mat. You just have to stay open - to the experience, to the discomfort, to the ways it might shift something in you.
We studied the yamas and niyamas - the ethical and personal observances that form yoga’s philosophical foundation. That’s where I began to understand: yoga isn’t just what happens on the mat, but how you live off of it. At Riffs, that intention was woven into everything. We weren’t allowed to eat meat on the training deck, a space treated as sacred in honor of ahimsa, the principle of non-violence. At first, it caught me off guard. But as we explored the deeper layers of yoga, it became clear - these weren’t just guidelines; they were invitations into a more conscious way of living.
Yoga teacher training became an anchor for me. It grounded me spiritually, emotionally, and energetically during one of the most uncertain times of my life. What I didn’t expect was just how deeply I would connect with the people in that room. There were 15 of us, all from different walks of life, yet something about the space we held for one another made it feel like family. It was the kind of environment where vulnerability wasn’t just welcomed — it was celebrated. We cried together, laughed together, moved through our own personal transformations side by side. That experience reminded me that it’s not only okay to be open — it’s powerful. To feel seen, supported, and safe in your full expression is one of the most healing gifts yoga gave me.
Our final day of training. What began as a personal journey turned into lifelong connections and shared transformation.
If you’re thinking about doing a YTT — even if you don’t want to teach — my advice is: do it. But be intentional. Try a class with the teacher who’s leading it. Ask to speak with someone who’s done it before. Learn about the style and philosophy they teach. Some programs focus heavily on anatomy and the physical; others integrate more breathwork, energy work, and spirituality. Find the one that aligns with what your soul is craving.
And lastly, I’ll leave you with this - something Karina always said:
“When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. When the student is truly ready, the teacher will disappear.”
Karina passed away not long after our training. We were her last cohort. Her spirit is still with me every time I step on the mat. Every time I see a monarch butterfly. Every time I choose love over fear.
Karina - Forever grateful for her guidance, wisdom, and heart.
Still growing, still glowing - Courtney
