Seventeen Years on the Mat: 10 Lessons Yoga Keeps Teaching Me

Seventeen years.

That’s how long I’ve been practicing yoga. Nearly a decade teaching it. Always returning to it. And somehow… it STILL surprises me.

Not in the big, obvious, Instagram-worthy ways. But in the quiet ones.

✨ The ones you almost miss, like the soft exhale that reminds you: “Oh, there I am.”

✨ A gentle shift in your body you didn’t know you needed.

✨ The quiet recognition in a shape you’ve made a thousand times.

Yoga has given me more than flexibility or strength. It’s helped me gather up parts of myself I didn’t even know I’d left behind.

So today, in honour of this 17-year milestone, I want to share 10 lessons yoga keeps teaching me.

Some are new. Some are old. But all of them still meet me EXACTLY where I am.

Maybe one of them will meet you where you are too. 💛

1. You show up because something in you wants to

I’ve learned that you don’t show up to the mat because it’s trending. Or because someone told you to. Or because your feed is filled with reels reminding you to move your body.

You come to the mat because something inside you is reaching — for quiet, for connection, for breath.

And NO, it doesn’t have to be every day.

But when you do show up, even if it’s once a week, even if it’s five minutes between school drop-off and emails, let it be something for YOU.

A small way to reconnect with your breath. To notice your body. To remember what it feels like to be in yourself, instead of outside of yourself all day.

That’s where the practice BEGINS.

2. Progress doesn’t always feel like progress

I used to think progress looked like the big, **showing off stuff, you know deep backbends, fancy arm balances, nailing a pose that makes a good photo.

But honestly? Most days, progress looks a lot more ordinary.

It’s staying on the mat when I want to walk away.

Breathing instead of mindlessly scrolling through my phone.

Softening when I’d usually push through just to get it over with.

It doesn’t always look impressive, no. It rarely feels “productive.”

But it’s those small moments , when you choose presence over escape that change everything.

3. You don’t have to feel ready

I’ve also learned that you don’t have to feel “ready” to begin. You can come to the mat tired. Foggy. Heavy with your day or your mood.

The mat doesn’t judge. It doesn’t need you to be perfect. It just gently says: Start here.

Exactly as you are.

4. Your practice will have seasons, and that’s okay

And let me tell you, your practice WILL change. It will have seasons.

There were years when I practiced Every. Single. Day. And other times when I didn’t unroll my mat for weeks.

Both mattered. Both taught me something.

Yoga doesn’t demand perfection. It simply reflects your relationship with life, and quietly invites you to keep coming back.

Not to the poses.

But to yourself.

To your breath.

To your centre.

5. You won’t always want to

Of course, there are days when I don’t want to practice. When practice feels like one more thing on the list.

And discipline, I’ve learned, isn’t about pushing harder, it’s about pausing.

It’s the quiet moment when you ask yourself, “What do I really need today?”

And then gently choosing to return.

6. The small things really do shift things

And honestly? It’s often the small, ordinary things that shift me the most.

A few rounds of cat-cow. Five mindful breaths in child’s pose. One hand on my heart while I exhale.

That’s yoga, too.

It doesn’t have to be long or impressive. It doesn’t have to be for anyone else.

Simple practices. Subtle returns. That’s where the real transformation lives.

7. There’s no such thing as perfect

Perfection? Still doesn’t exist.

I still fall out of balancing poses.

Still catch myself clenching my jaw.

Still have days where the practice feels... off.

That doesn’t mean I’m doing it wrong.

It means I’m paying attention.

Presence, not perfection. That’s the point. ALWAYS.

8. You’ll lose your way

And yes, you’ll lose your way. You’ll drift. Avoid the mat. Forget how to breathe with intention.

But the moment you return, even if it’s just to sit and breathe, you’ll remember:

‘Cause, it was never about doing it right. It was ALWAYS about being with yourself.

Even NOW.

9. Teaching yoga isn’t about being the most advanced

As a teacher, I’ve had moments where I forgot a pose mid-sequence, stumbled over my words, or lost my place completely.

But I kept going.

Because what my students need isn’t my perfection, it’s me holding the space.

That’s what lands. That’s WHAT matters. Well, to me.

10. The practice never ends

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the dAnd the most beautiful truth I’ve come to understand?

THE PRACTICE NEVER ENDS.

You don’t “finish” yoga. You live with it. And it lives with you.

Your body changes. Your needs shift. You drift. You return.

The mat stays. And so do you.

Final Thoughts: You’re Just in a Chapter

Seventeen years in, and I’m still learning.

Still listening.

Still surprised by what this practice reveals.

And if yoga feels far away right now, iif it’s been a while, if you’re not sure where to begin again...

That’s okay. I truly mean it.

You’re just in a chapter.

Not the end. Not a failure. Just a pause.

And the invitation?

It’s still here.

Start small. Start slow. Start with a breath, or a stretch, or simply lying on the mat.

Wherever you are, it counts. It all counts.