Something has changed in my relationship with one of my favourite yoga teachers

and I found myself lost for words

Yoga has been part of my life for several decades. I first tried it in my early twenties, invited to try a few sessions with a friend who was training to become an ashtanga teacher and needed to get some teaching hours under her yoga teacher strap. It wasn’t the easiest of starts for me, as it is a very physical type of yoga, and she also studied Bikram yoga as well. My petit in stature friend was firm and strict, and she made me sweat and ache afterwards, but I loved the process. Her classes were tough for a novice like me - just getting off the bed the next morning was an undertaking and I was very young and sporty then, so that’s saying something about the intensity of her classes .)

I then had the most wonderful teacher in the gym, whose calm, yet uplifting voice was incentive alone to come to her evening classes. Books were purchased, and the DVDs. I discovered Shiva Rea ( I use her DVDs to this day ) and still marvel at her guidance, as well as the soothing & elegant way she moves herself on the mat. She had such strength and power, as well as ingrained calm, something that endlessly mesmerised me. I did a yoga retreat in Ireland with Katy Appleton and emerged even more smitten with the practise. While some of my friends invested in yoga clothes, to me the mat and the regularity of the practise was what mattered. Listening to my teachers and finding my own capabilities on the mat - some days more in tune with my body, feeling humbly proud. On others, feeling frustrated because a balance pose or a head stand simply didn’t want to happen, no matter how hard I tried. This is one of the lessons yoga teaches you - every day is different and your body needs to be listened to and respected - on some days you will soar effortlessly and on other you just have to take it easy, it’s all part of natural ebb and flow.

There are so many amazing teachers that I learnt from. Serene Claire Missingham, Maya Fiennes and Tara Lee (whose classes were particularly wonderful when I was expecting). Christy Turlington, whose book on yoga is still one of my favourites - and I wish her Nuala range was longer lasting in it’s business cycle. Mandy Ingber, whose book taught me as much, as her DVD did. And she was the one who taught me to turn my yoga mat into a moodboard - if that idea appeals, give it a go, it might produce surprising results. I will never forget the most amazing yoga teachers at Como Shambhala at Parrot Cay and Hilton’s Maldives where I was spoilt gently by teachers coming to me and practising yoga either in my room open to the ocean or on the sand - just doing something like that once transforms you internally in a very meaningful way.

To this day I love rolling my mat out on the grass in the garden or sinking my feet and hands into the sand on the beach and being closer to nature, while I practise yoga - the days when I did it with my children when they were very young feel particularly precious now, when they are teens and not so keen to practise yoga alongside me. And doing yoga with Adriene Mischler online, during lockdown, was a life saviour of sorts for many people around the world - a case when my children do come on the mat willingly, refusing to join the Joe Wicks tribe.

Another special teacher is Nadia Narain (she also teaches online and has DVDs), whose voice flows like a river and inspires you to dig deeper into your physical form every single time you join her class. I also loved the calmness that Jiwan Brar instilled in me when helping me improve some of my yoga poses - she worked in Dr Mosaraf Ali’s Intergrated Clinic in London and I still remember the kindness emitted by her eyes. And when I feel particularly tired or depleted, I open Naomi Annand’s book “Yoga for Motherhood” and dive in with my head and body, even if for a ten-fifteen minute practise, which always helps to restore the balance and calm the mind.