From distribution to breakthrough: my healing path with yoga | To Yoga Magazine

Yoga is part of my life since I was 13. It was not always a constant companion – there were seasons in which my practice was central and others where it faded in the background. The only thing that never changed was that every time I returned to my mat, it felt like I got home. There is a kind of silence that happens when I close my eyes and connected to my breath. A moment when everything else – the pressure, the sound, the gravity – falls away. And in that silence I could finally feel again.

While I went through my practice – soft pieces, rounds of Surya Namaskar, Long Savasanas – I didn’t just heal my body. I soften my heart and let go of what I had worn. I cried on my mat. I fell down and tried to hold balance positions. I breathed through the inconvenience. And slowly I started to feel strong again – not only physically, but also emotionally.

Six months later I was again in my doctor’s office for a pre-op consultation. But this time something had shifted. I knew that I had changed and the scans confirmed it: “You will be happy to know that whatever you have worked. Based on this scan, it seems that you no longer need that operation.” That’s what my doctor said to me. Feelings of relief and joy washed over me. My symptoms were relaxed, my body had calmed down and I had found a feeling of peace that I had never thought possible.

That moment everything changed. I had taken over control over my life and again found the version of me I knew before fear and stress took over control – not by fighting my body, but by learning to listen. Although all the changes I made in my life played an equal role, I believe it was yoga that gave me the tools to release a lot of my mental stress.

To this day, Yoga is my holy space. It is where I come back when the world feels loud, when my thoughts race, or when I have to feel ground again. That slow, mindful breath – the one I learned in stress management therapy – still keeps me if nothing else is possible.

Now, as a teacher, I share this practice with others, not from a place of theory, but from lived experience. I know what it’s like to feel lost in your body and disconnected from your own life. But I also know the quiet power to find your way back – one breath, one pose, one small moment at the same time.