I teach yoga because it breaks me open. It breaks me out of my shell and shows me the reality of who I am moment to moment, drama to stillness, yogi and ego.The practice leaves me tender, and sometime so vulnerable it's hard to get up in front of a room full of people and feel strong enough to lead a class. And yet, in that vulnerability is true strength. And if I ask my students to let themselves be opened by their practice, how can I offer them anything less?

What I cultivate in my practice, and in my life, is what I have to offer my students–is what I have to share. If I am not letting the practice expose my softness and vulnerability as well as my vibrance and my joy, I have no depth to share, only words, and there are too many empty words in this world.

There are moments in the practice, where the emptiness is so vast–it's like my favorite Zen poem

We sit together
the mountain and I
until only the mountain remains.

And that's the ahhhh breath. Zeropose. Bliss.
That's why I teach.