02/04/2026
• Picture taken in Singapore 03.2026
• Words are all mine
As some of you know, I am now travelling in Asia. Going back to where Little Bali all started.
I was just in conversation with someone I met on the road, and it suddenly felt essential to share this:
Maturity in teaching has nothing to do with age. Nothing to do with grey hair (although for those who know me, I have plenty 😊)
It’s about lived experience. The moments that cracked us open. The moments that closed our heart a little, yet somehow built the resilience... to soften it again.
In the hardship of life, we find different paths to go.
Some teachers stop practicing. Some (unwillingly I hope) build more ego, more strictness, more distance between themselves and others.
And some other teachers find the actual path to yoga. A path made of vulnerabilities. Of truth. Of softness. Sometimes truth disguised as direction. Sometimes as compassion. Always with kindness.
That’s the path that makes a teacher great.
Not the title. Not what you can see, or even hear. It’s always deeper than that.
It’s not about the breathtaking man-made architecture. It’s about the tree that grows naturally, in its own time… Thick trunk, deep roots, long branches, with the sweetest fruits.
