Breathwork w/Ingunn Ytterhus

25/05/2026

there are things you follow before you can explain why. before the proof arrives, before it makes sense to anyone else, sometimes before it makes sense to you. something that keeps calling even when the ground ahead is unclear. even when the timing is wrong. even when the voice in your head has a hundred reasons to wait.

you don’t always know if it is courage or stubbornness or just the inability to imagine going any other way. yet you stay.

the uncertainty doesn’t leave. if anything it grows with you, opens into new shapes, asks new things of you just when you thought you knew the terrain. no one really prepares you for that part.

and yet here you are. what you follow becomes yours.

16/05/2026

something moves through you.

and before it has landed, the mind is already there. turning it over. asking what it was, what it means, what it says about you.

the experience itself gets a moment, maybe two.
then it becomes material for thinking.

the felt thing, the actual thing, barely gets to be itself. and still, it leaves a mark.

13/05/2026

tender.

there are moments
that come without warning.

a conversation that cracks something open.
a piece of music.
a single look.

and suddenly you are in it
heart beating,
every nerve present,
something warm moving
from the chest outward.

tender.
a little frightening.
here.
unguarded.

yours.

07/05/2026

there are periods where the practice slips. life gets loud, the days fill up, and what usually comes first starts getting pushed to later, and later becomes not at all.

this quality of being present in yourself, in the body rather than just in the mind, doesn’t arrive on its own. it asks something of us. a return. a showing up. which is part of why we drift from it, and part of why it matters to come back.

when you do, something is waiting. the body holds a memory of what it felt like to be in it. that particular stillness, the connection that builds as the breath deepens, the feeling that doesn’t come from anywhere else. it returns, and with it a recognition that you haven’t lost as much ground as you thought.

this is what a practice builds. a familiarity that deepens the more you tend to it. something that gets a little more known with each visit, a little easier to find your way back to, even after some time away.

it accumulates in a way that only becomes visible over time. what it builds is something steadier than a mood or a moment. something that holds even when life gets loud again and the practice slips.

weekly classes in oslo, a regular space to return to.

workshops in oslo and online, for those who want more time and depth.

one to one sessions, for those who want to be met personally.

you are welcome. links in my bio.

04/05/2026

we have become very good at understanding our lives from a distance. we turn our experiences over in our minds, we find the words for them, we observe them and trace the shape of what they are. there is something restless in the way the mind works, the way it moves toward meaning, the way it tries to help us make sense of things.

the body holds its own language. the mind moves through experience by filtering, organising, making meaning. the body receives and stores sensation, tension, pattern and response. it doesn’t decide what to hold onto, the way the mind does.

we can understand something and still sense it sitting unfinished somewhere in the chest, the shoulders, the belly. and sometimes something stirs that we never went looking for. something we thought had passed, or never knew was there at all.

breathwork draws awareness into the part of us that thinks less and feels more. the body gets room to be felt. to be listened to, rather than managed. what has been held in the background of daily life may begin to soften. something that has been circling can find space to rest. what lives deeper has a chance to surface and find its way through.

understanding from a distance only takes us so far. the body holds something the mind cannot reach on its own. given space, it finds its way back.

28/04/2026

there was always something pulling. at sixteen i left my small town. different cities, different studies, different versions of what a life could look like. always with a sense that there was more, somewhere, if i just kept moving.

in my mid twenties i went to australia. a few months in i met someone. it felt immediately real. i applied for a masters to be able to stay. four years of building something that felt like it was finally going somewhere.

then he got offered a job in paris. we went, me and our dog.

paris was harder than i had expected. the outer life felt increasingly difficult to hold. we grew, but in different directions. eventually he ended things.

i was in my early thirties. no job, no home of my own, no money, friends scattered across different countries. i packed two suitcases leaving paris. one for going home. one for bali.

i had signed up for a yoga teacher training. what opened there i am still living from.

i came home and spent months going inward. coaches, body-based practices, communities, anything i could find. then i found a breathwork recording. i lay down, pressed play on something i didn’t fully understand, and felt something move through me that nothing else had reached. i trained as a facilitator the following year.

that was five years ago. since then i have sat with many people in this work. in weekly classes, in workshops and events, in private sessions. what all of that time has given me is harder to name than any training. a kind of presence, maybe. the ability to sense where someone is and meet them there.

what i offer comes from both sides. everything i have sat with in myself, and everything i have been trusted with in others.

i write here from inside the practice. about the kind of change that doesn’t always announce itself. and about my own process.

if any of this resonates, you’re welcome here. here is where you can find me:
weekly classes, blush yoga oslo / workshops, in person in oslo and online / private 1:1, link in bio.

19/01/2026

21/02/2025

Welcome to Breathwork, an inner journey of transformation & healing.

Sunday 09/03, Glød Yoga 🌬️🤍

14/11/2023

sometimes coming to a Breathwork session can be an intense experience, other times it can be a slow and gentle experience. ⁣⁣
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that’s because we are never in control of the speed at which the body heals and transforms. ⁣⁣
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while the mind may have been conditioned and trained to believe in and seek quick fixes, instant gratification, and immediate relief, the body will continue to follow its own sophisticated pace toward what it needs regardless of what the mind wants. ⁣⁣
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this shift from trying to fix and use force, to allowing the body’s own language to be heard and be in charge can feel both frustrating and challenging. but if experiencing lasting healing and transformation is what we truly want, we must learn to listen deeper than only to what we can (and want to) hear. ⁣⁣
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we must learn to honour the body’s own intelligence and allow that to guide the process, even if that sometimes is going to be slower than what our restless mind wants. ⁣⁣
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sustainable healing and transformation, that deep cellular level upgrade that makes it easier to open your heart up to you, to trust your own intuition and inner wisdom, and ultimately rewrite the story of who we get to be require us to let go of the conditioned need for control and comfort, and embrace trust and patience. ⁣⁣
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the experience you have is always the one you are meant to have at that moment, regardless of what you thought you needed or expected. every session will be different, just as every person’s experience will be different. ⁣⁣
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we are never in control at which speed the body heals and transforms. ⁣⁣
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the last in-person Breathwork workshop for 2023 will be Sunday 26/11, and is be facilitated at Glød Yoga, Frogner⁣
&⁣⁣
from January I will open up applications for personalised Breathwork & Coaching, this is for you who desire deeper growth, healing and support. ⁣⁣
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all links are in my bio 🤍

13/11/2023