Yoga with Karina_official

22/04/2026

Many students tell me their favorite yoga pose is Savasana (co**se pose) - that moment at the end of class where you lie down, do nothing, and quietly hope you don’t start snoring.

But over the years, I’ve seen that it’s not everyone’s favorite. For some, it can feel uncomfortable - or even triggering.

You’re asked to lie on your back, often in a dim room, for an unknown amount of time. There might be unfamiliar sounds, deep silence, or a teacher moving around the space. And you’re told to stay completely still.

For some bodies, that’s not relaxing - it’s unsettling.

Lying on your back can feel vulnerable. The darkness, the sounds, the uncertainty around touch can feel like too much - especially for those who have experienced trauma, or for neurodiverse students who may find stillness genuinely difficult.

Instead of leaving relaxed, they may leave tense. Or like they’ve somehow “failed” at resting.

So what can we do differently as teachers? Here’s what I offer:

🧘‍♀️ Choice of position - lie on your back, front, or side, or sit or stand
🧘‍♀️ Soft lighting (not complete darkness)
🧘‍♀️ Freedom to fidget – simple movements like pressing fingers and thumbs together or flexing/pointing the feet can help keep restless bodies lightly busy.
🧘‍♀️ No unexpected massages or modifications
🧘‍♀️ The freedom to skip it

Like every yoga pose, Savasana can be adapted to suit your needs in the moment. Your practice is your own, and however you choose to experience Savasana is welcome. Even the snoring 💤

💬 Do you love Savasana - or just tolerate it?

21/04/2026

I can't decide if is such a delightful human because he does so much yoga, or if he does so much yoga because he's so delightful! 🤔

Either way, he gifted me this fabulous home made jam today so he's now officially my favourite student. And yes, my affections can be readily bought with confectionery, so please form an orderly queue 🍭

20/04/2026

Let the outside fade away.

Inside, there’s movement already - breath, heartbeat, a quiet kind of life.

Sit with it. No need to improve anything.

Just notice what it’s like to be with yourself, as you are.

Because you are the best, most wonderful person to spend time with 💕

20/04/2026

17/04/2026

Today is my birthday, and I won’t lie - it took a heroic amount of willpower to drag myself outdoors this morning for a chilly circuit training session.

Yes, I live and breathe yoga, but I also love getting outside, lifting weights, and beating my trainer in a who-can-hold-plank-longest competition 💪 I’m very glad I went - and very grateful for this body that can still, um, stand on one leg while squeezing a ball and looking serene 💕

I just wanted to say a quick, heartfelt thank you - to you, my beautiful yoga family, for being my companions on this most excellent ride. You inspire me every day. Watching you THRIVE is better than any birthday gift, and almost better than the creative, slightly wonky birthday cake made by my kids (though definitely less likely to give me food poisoning).

Wherever you are today, I hope there’s a little patch of sunshine waiting for you, something delicious in your cup, and a teeny tiny moment that feels softly, unmistakably like joy ✨

Oh, and our new cat arrives tomorrow 🥰 More on that soon...🐈

13/04/2026

Whenever I'm tempted to skip my practice, I consider the two versions of me:

The one who practices yoga…
and the one who rolls over and hits the snooze button ⏰

And they’re not quite the same person.

When I’m practicing regularly, life just feels more manageable.
Little things don’t get under my skin as quickly.
I have a bit more energy (and slightly more patience, which my family appreciates).

My body feels more like a place I want to live in. Everything rolls a little more smoothly.
My mind is a bit less chaotic.

And when I stop?
Well. Let’s just say everything feels a bit louder, heavier, and I’m somehow more tired while doing less. Things creak and my low back starts talking to me (loudly).

So for me, consistency isn’t about being “good” or forcing myself to do anything.
It’s more about noticing which version of me I enjoy being more
and choosing her a little more often.

If you’d like some help finding that sweeter version of yourself, or maybe just some company staying on track, you’re always welcome to practice with me 🙏💕

🤸 Tuesday 12:00-13:00 Yoga @ Zen Den Yoga Studio
💫 Thursday: 18:15-19:25 Yoga @ Perunova 6
✨ Thursday: 18:15-19:25 Yoga online
🙏 Saturday: 10:00-10:50 Yoga online
🧘‍♀️ Sunday: 17:30-18:20 Yoga online

12/04/2026

She already loved yoga… but a whole weekend of it?

She wasn’t a complete beginner - she’d been to plenty of classes, knew the shapes, names, the general flow - but she never quite "got it" like everyone else seemed to.

There was always this quiet question:
“Am I doing this right?”

Her downward dog never felt restful (despite teachers insisting it was 😊)
She was pretty sure she didn’t have a “yoga body”.

So the idea of a retreat?

That felt… intense.

Like it might be full of very bendy people doing advanced things all day, while she quietly tried to keep up.

—

But she came anyway. (deep breaths and a bit of bravery to hit “sign up”.)

—

First session, she stayed at the back.
Moved carefully.
Watched a lot.

And started to listen:

To why we were doing what we were doing.
What it was meant to feel like, not look like.
The small shifts that suddenly made familiar shapes feel completely new.

A few tweaks… and her downward dog didn’t feel quite so awful anymore
(still not a resting pose though 😊)

—

She also noticed something else.

People modifying.
Pausing.
Skipping things completely.

Some flowed.
Some rested.
Some stayed in child’s pose and looked perfectly content there.

No one competing.
No one performing.

Just… people taking what they needed.

—

Until her practice became less about “getting it right”
and more about noticing, feeling, experimenting.

Those quiet “oh… this feels right” moments.

—

When she left, she said,
“I think this is the first time yoga has actually made sense in my body.”

—

If you love yoga, but sometimes feel slightly on the outside of it…
or like you’re not quite “getting it”…

you’re very welcome here.

There are 2 spaces left on the May retreat. ❣️

You don’t have to force your body into anything - we’ll meet you where you are 🤍

10/04/2026

She didn’t think she was that tired.

Maybe just normal tired - the kind you power through, fix with coffee, fresh air, maybe an early night (that never quite happens).

She nearly didn’t come because of it, actually. She thought, “I’m fine. I don’t really need a whole weekend away.” (while silently fretting about who would look after the kids, the dog, the laundry...)

—

But she arrived… and within a few hours, something started to unravel.

Not in a dramatic way.
Nothing big or emotional.

Just small things.

She sat down after lunch and realised she didn’t feel the urge to check her phone.
She lay down for yoga and noticed how heavy her body felt against the floor.
She went for a walk and couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked that slow, with nowhere to be.

—

That evening, she told me she felt “weirdly spaced out.”

I remember smiling and thinking,
“Yep, that’s usually the beginning.”

—

The next day, she slept through the early session.
Woke up late. Didn’t rush.

Came down in her PJs, hair still messy.

Sat quietly with a cup of tea while everyone else drifted in and out.

No one made it a thing.
No one expected anything from her.

—

And that’s when it hit her.

Not all at once - but enough to notice.

How tired she actually was.

Not just physically… but that deeper kind of tired that comes from constantly being “on,” keeping things moving, being the one who remembers, organises, holds it all together.

—

By the end of the weekend, she looked different.

Softer. Lighter.
Like her whole system had exhaled.

She told me,
“I didn’t realise how much I needed that.”

And then,
“I need to make some changes in my life.”

—

This is the part people don’t always see from the outside.

It’s not just a nice weekend away.
(It is that too - there’s yoga and good food and laughter and all of that.)

But it’s also space.

To stop, feel, and come back to yourself a little.

—

If you’ve been telling yourself “I’m fine”…
you might be.

But you might also be ready for a pause.

There are 3 spaces left on the May retreat. ❣️

And you don’t have to wait until you’re completely exhausted to come 🤍

08/04/2026

She came for the “restful weekend.”

(And immediately panicked when she saw a group of strangers.)

You know that moment when you walk into a room and everyone probably already knows each other, and you suddenly become very interested in your phone?

That was her. Seriously considered pretending she’d booked the wrong weekend and leaving 🏃‍♀️‍➡️

—

But instead, she stayed.

Hovered near the tea.
Did that polite half-smile thing we all do.

Spotted an empty chair at the table. Took a deep breath, approached and asked "is anyone sitting here". To be met with a smile and "yes, you are".

Which, honestly, is how most of these weekends begin.

—

By that evening, she was deep in conversation over dinner.
By the next day, she had people to sit with, walk with… or not sit with at all.

Because here’s the thing she didn’t expect:

It wasn’t… intense.

No forced sharing circles.
No “tell us your deepest truth” before breakfast.
No schedule that made her feel like she needed a clipboard and a strong sense of discipline.

Just gentle invitations.

Yoga if you want it.
Walks if you feel like it.
Silence when you need it.
Company when you don’t.

At one point, she actually hid from everyone for an hour with a blanket and a book.

(No one came looking. No one was offended. Highly recommended, apparently.)

—

And then, somewhere between the second and third helping of dinner it stopped feeling like a group of strangers.

It just felt… easy.

—

On the last day, she said,
“I was so worried it would be awkward.”

Pause.

“It really wasn’t.”

—

If you’ve been imagining worst-case scenarios in your head…
you’re not the only one.

But they’re usually wrong.

We’ve got 3 spaces left on the May retreat. ❣️

Awkward entrances fully allowed. They tend not to last 🤍

06/04/2026

He almost didn’t come either.

Not because he didn’t want a weekend away - God, he needed it.

But yoga? That felt like… not his thing.

He told me later he pictured a room full of bendy people in matching outfits, effortlessly folding themselves into shapes he couldn’t even pronounce.

He hadn’t been to a class in years, and the last time he did, he spent most of it glancing around, trying to keep up, feeling like he was getting it wrong.

So when he booked, it was with a quiet agreement to himself:
“I’ll just do what I can… or maybe skip it entirely.”

—

First session, he rolled his mat out at the back.

Stayed pretty still at first.
Watched more than he moved.

And then something shifted.

Not all at once.
Just little things.

The moment he realised no one was looking at him.
The moment he heard me say, “feel free to rest whenever you like.”
The moment he noticed half the room had quietly taken child’s pose… and stayed there.

By the second session, he was moving more.
By the third, he wasn’t checking what anyone else was doing.

And at some point - I don't know exactly when - he stopped trying to do it right
and just… did what felt good.

—

But what he talked about most afterwards wasn’t even the yoga.

It was the fresh air and the breezy walks.
The food (yes, it's OK to go back for thirds).
The conversations that started easily and didn’t feel forced.

And also - this surprised him - how okay it felt to just step away.

To skip a session, to sit with a coffee instead. To not have to perform, or prove anything, or keep up.

—

As he was leaving, he said,
“I thought I’d feel out of place… but I didn’t. Not once.”

And then (my favourite line)
“Turns out you don’t actually have to be ‘good at yoga’ to come to a yoga retreat.”

—

If that’s been the thing holding you back…maybe it doesn’t have to be?

There are 4 spaces left on our May retreat. ❣️

And you really don’t need to be anything other than human to come 🤍

04/04/2026

She almost didn’t come.

She told me afterwards she’d had the tab open for days.

Reading. Closing it. Reopening it.
Hovering over the “sign up” button… and then talking herself out of it again.

Because what if it was awkward?
What if everyone else already knew each other?
What if it was one of those retreats - you know, the 6am starts, silent breakfasts, and meals that are probably healthy but leave you secretly hungry?

In the end, she booked a few days before, saying to herself, “if it’s awful, I’ll just leave early.”

She arrived a bit quietly and hovered in the kitchen.

And within about… ten minutes, someone had offered her tea, someone else had asked where was from, and by dinner, she was deep in conversation, feeling like she’d known these people for years. Wondering how such a diverse, varied group of personalities could be so comfortable in each others' company.

The next morning, she didn’t come to yoga.
(She told me later she woke up, heard the rain, and chose to stay in bed with a book instead.)

No one chased her or questioned it. She just wandered down when she was ready, wrapped in a blanket, and joined breakfast (and the other people who had chosen a lie in!).

That’s kind of how the whole weekend unfolded.

Some people came to everything.
Some dipped in and out.
Some disappeared for long walks alone and came back glowing.

There was yoga (of course).
But also fireside chats, second helpings of apple crumble, slow mornings, and that feeling of your nervous system finally… softening.

When she left, she hugged me and said,
“This is the first time in ages I’ve properly switched off.”

And then, a bit sheepishly,
“I can’t believe I nearly didn’t come.”

—

If you’ve been hovering… wondering if it’s for you…
maybe this is your sign.

We have 4 spaces left for the May retreat. ❣️

And you’re very welcome — exactly as you are 🤍