Two weeks into my 300-hour advanced yoga teacher training at the Yandara Yoga Institute in Baja Mexico, I remember waking up one morning to the sound of crashing waves outside my tent and thinking: this is exactly where I’m meant to be.

For years, I had dreamed about studying at Yandara. At least six years of feeling quietly called toward this place tucked away on the Pacific coast of Baja. And now, after spending a month immersed in yoga, nature, silence, community, and self-inquiry, I understand why the timing had to unfold the way it did.

I wasn’t ready for this experience before.

Not because I couldn’t do the training, but because I don’t think I was ready to fully receive what it was actually offering.

Living Simply on the Shores of Baja

Life at Yandara was beautifully simple.

Each morning, my eyes gently fluttered open to the sound of birds chirping and waves rolling onto the shoreline. I would leave my tent before sunrise and walk the beach in silence before our 7:30am practice.

Silence until 10am was part of our daily rhythm, and honestly, that was a challenge for me at first. But over time, I started to notice how powerful it was to draw my awareness inward instead of immediately scattering my attention outward. Our days were full... pranayama, meditation, philosophy, hands-on assisting, sequencing, cueing, energetics, conscious communication, teaching methodology, and evening kirtans with a live band under the stars.

But what struck me the most was this: Yoga teacher training isn’t really about becoming better at poses. It’s about becoming more present.

Somewhere along the way, modern yoga became heavily focused on what the practice looks like externally. Advanced poses. Fancy transitions. Perfect aesthetics.

But this training reminded me that an advanced yoga practice has very little to do with how complicated the pose is.

It’s about how deeply you can breathe.
It’s about how honest you’re willing to be with yourself.
It’s about how much presence you can bring into the moment.

And sometimes, the deepest yoga happens when you’re sitting still, listening to the ocean, watching your thoughts rise and fall.

The Healing That Happens Beyond the Mat

If you’ve ever attended a yoga retreat or yoga teacher training, you know these experiences become about so much more than learning how to teach.

There’s something that happens when you remove yourself from your normal routines, your responsibilities, your constant notifications, and the identity you carry every day.

The layers start to peel back.

And honestly? That can feel uncomfortable before it feels freeing.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t the teacher.
I wasn’t organizing.
I wasn’t leading.
I wasn’t holding space for everyone else.

I got to simply be a student again.

And I didn’t realize how much I needed that.

Even when you deeply love what you do — and I truly love teaching yoga and creating retreat experiences — there’s still a weight that comes with always being “on.” Always being the one others look to. Always being the one holding everything together.

This month gave me permission to set that down.

To listen instead of lead.
To receive instead of give.
To sit in the back of the room instead of the front.
To be held instead of always holding others.

And in that space, so much surfaced.

Not all of it was easy.

Yoga has a way of revealing what’s been quietly living under the surface all along.

When distractions dissolve and the constant “doing” fades away, you start hearing yourself more clearly. The uncomfortable parts. The resistant parts. The tired parts.

But also the true parts.

The softer parts.
The wiser parts.
The parts that remember who you are underneath all the roles you play.

A 40-Hour Solo Vision Quest on the Beach

One of the most transformative moments of the training happened during our final week.

We were invited into a 40-hour solo vision quest.

Just ourselves, a sleeping bag, a little food, the elements, and the Pacific Ocean.

No phone.
No journal.
No distractions.
No clock.

At first, my mind resisted hard.

Do I really need to sleep alone on a beach in Mexico to become a better yoga teacher?

That’s honestly where my mind went.

But I made a quiet agreement with myself:

Just try it.

And if it felt like too much, I could leave.

What surprised me most was how quickly the noise softened.

I spent hours watching shooting stars stretch across the night sky. I watched sunrises that looked almost unreal. I found a small sit spot on the beach where I returned again and again to breathe, repeat simple mantras, and listen.

Our only task was to ask nature one question:

What’s your secret?

And when I looked out at the ocean, crashing endlessly against the shore, what I heard was:

Keep flowing.
Keep evolving.

Nature reminded me that nothing stays fixed.

The ocean doesn’t resist its waves.
The trees don’t force themselves to bloom.
The earth doesn’t rush transformation.

And maybe that’s part of the wisdom we forget as humans.

When life feels sticky, we often try to push harder, fix faster, force clarity.

But sometimes the invitation is actually to slow down enough to listen.
To get curious about what’s underneath.
To allow ourselves to evolve instead of clinging to outdated versions of who we think we need to be.

One of the biggest truths that landed for me during those 40 hours was this:

You carry the magnitude of the ocean inside of you… so why do you keep playing small?

Why Nature-Based Yoga Retreats Feel So Transformative

This experience reminded me why I care so deeply about retreat spaces.

Not because retreats magically “fix” your life.
Not because transformation happens overnight.

But because intentional spaces in nature create the conditions for honesty.

In our everyday lives, we move fast.
We stay busy.
We fill every quiet moment with stimulation.

And after a while, we can become disconnected from ourselves without even realizing it.

That’s why immersive yoga retreats and yoga teacher trainings can feel so powerful.

They interrupt the noise.

They give us a chance to zoom out and see our lives from a wider perspective.
To reconnect with our bodies.
To reconnect with nature.
To reconnect with what actually matters.

Mexico held me in a way I didn’t expect.

I arrived carrying old identities, old stories, old pressures I didn’t even realize I had been holding onto.

And slowly, through practice, silence, community, nature, and reflection, something softened.

I’m not leaving as an entirely different person.

But internally, something shifted.

My perspective changed.
My relationship to myself changed.
My understanding of yoga deepened.

Yoga as a Lifestyle, Not Just a Practice

One of my biggest takeaways from Yandara is this:

Yoga isn’t just something you do.

For many of us, it becomes a way of living.

A way of relating to ourselves.
A way of navigating change.
A way of returning home to ourselves over and over again.

After nearly 20 years of practice, yoga continues to call me back to myself.

Not because I’m trying to perfect poses.
But because the practice keeps teaching me how to listen more deeply.
How to soften.
How to evolve.
How to stay present with life as it changes.

And maybe that’s what transformation really is.

Not becoming someone completely new.
But remembering who you were underneath the noise all along.

Reflections to Sit With

As I integrate this past month, I’ve been reflecting on a few questions that I want to leave with you too:

• What does practicing yoga mean to you?

• How has your relationship with yoga changed over time?

• Where in your life are you being invited to evolve?

• When was the last time you gave yourself space to simply be without distraction?

• Where do you go when you feel lost… to find your way back to yourself?

You don’t need to travel across the world or spend 40 hours alone on a beach to begin reconnecting with yourself.

But I do think we all need moments where we intentionally slow down enough to hear our own inner voice again.

And sometimes, nature becomes the perfect mirror to help us remember.

Final Thoughts

This month at the Yandara Yoga Institute reminded me why I continue returning to yoga after all these years.

Not for achievement.
Not for perfection.
Not for performance.

But for the opportunity to keep evolving.

To keep softening.
To keep listening.
To keep returning home to myself.

And that’s ultimately the intention behind the retreat experiences I create as well — spaces where people can step away from the noise of everyday life and reconnect with themselves in a more honest, grounded, and nourishing way.

If you’ve been craving that kind of pause lately, I’d love to invite you to explore my upcoming yoga retreats and experiences here: Rebel Soul Retreats