I think a lot about lineage - both in my practice and guiding. It’s also a question that folks new to me as a guide should ask but often don’t.
My learning and guidance have been shaped entirely by American studios teaching Western yoga, starting with a yoga class at a community college near where I grew up at the turn of the (most recent) century.
While I practiced on and off before moving to San Francisco, I found a regular practice at Ritual Hot Yoga. This studio pairs one breath with one movement, flowing through a fast-paced, heat-driven practice. There, I learned how strong I could be, how hands-on assistance works, the value of 1:1 instruction, and—most importantly—how yoga feels in my body. Danimal (whose quote is on my homepage) and other teachers like Molly, Sierra, and Mellisa wove mantras, sutras, and more profound teachings into every class.
Eventually, I balanced my practice through classes with David Cho, whom I still practice with occasionally. His approach introduced me to a different kind of challenge—not through speed, but through precision. His was the first yoga retreat I attended, allowing me to step outside of daily life and focus intensely on practice and community.
My introduction to yoga in Rochester came through Breath Yoga, which follows the Baptiste Journey into Power lineage. My yoga teacher training—and much of my current studio practice—stems from this tradition, though with different interpretations. Atha, for example, integrates elemental components to ground the practice in a visceral experience, encouraging students to work within a structured framework while making it their own.
My current practice sees me at Magic Held Here, whose power vinyasa is also from the same tradition, with lots of time and space for variation and laughter. It also sees me at home, where the feature image was taken, a space that allows me to experiment with all sorts of new traditions and schools so I can find what works for me and lets me dive deeper into those corners.
Why does this matter? We all come from a lineage. We carry what we’ve been taught—whether in yoga, our jobs, our homes, or our lives. Examining our lineage helps us understand how we move through the world.
In my guidance, I naturally gravitate toward sutras, mythologies, and mindfulness teachings, connecting what happens on the mat to what happens off the mat—and within ourselves. My style is what I’d call narrowly eclectic— founded deeply in repetition and fast-moving vinyasa flows with space for deeper stretching, longer holds, and time to sink into grounding work. And, as you can probably already tell, I love using 1:1 sessions, hands-on assists, and longer-form workshops to support regular practice.
Understanding my lineage has helped me shape how I guide others in a way that feels authentic and adaptable. It’s a blend of strength, mindfulness, and precision—rooted in what I’ve learned from my teachers and refined through experience. As I continue to grow, I invite those I guide to do the same: to explore, question, and take what resonates, creating a practice that feels like home.