The doors of TexasYogini studio have been open now for three and a half months and they have been chock full of busy! Creating and recreating the schedule, organizing and reorganizing the space, and even a full-on renovation of the studio while still running classes.
Throughout all the hubbub, I’ve been attending events spreading the word out about what I consider to be a sweet little studio. No matter where I am, folks look at the schedule and say, “Tell me about the studio.” My response has been pretty standard, sharing the circumstances that eventually resulted in the studio opening however, I never really share the WHY. I’ve spent some time reflecting on the why and how I can best articulate it – and it’s been tough. So, here goes:
When I was in the first few years of my practice, I was fortunate enough to find a studio that felt like home. The teachers, desk staff, and other yogis in the community knew me and my practice. It was where I could show up “as is”. The practice always included chanting, breath work, meditation, and of course asana. Teachers spoke and taught from a place in their own journey on and off the mat. Philosophy went hand-in-hand with the practice and there was an unspoken reverence for the spirituality and history of yoga. Nope, it wasn’t a perfect studio and I didn’t like every class – I don’t always like my sister either but I always love her 🙂
Fast forward to 2014 when I began teaching yoga in Houston. I was lucky enough to land at Yoga Collective where Rhia entrusted us to teach from our respective lineages. No two classes were the same and yet the studio always felt like a cohesive community. When it closed in June 2017, I immediately felt like there was a great void in my life.
I’m not saying the feeling of home and community couldn’t have happened at any other studio or that other studio owners don’t give their teachers freedom to teach what and how they like. What I am saying is that I’m striving to create an intimate studio space where teachers and practitioners experience a feeling ownership – either via what they choose to teach or by using their voice to ask for what they need in a practice – striving to create a kula. It’s not perfect. I’m sure there are many more changes to come. While some things are still up in the air, I definitely feel the studio and community taking root. This is probably the scariest endeavor I have taken on, yet I feel so supported by the yogis who have brought their practices and personalities into the space.
All that rambling!!!!
So, why? In this studio I feel connected with community, grounded in tradition.