
07/22/2025
10 years ago I did something wild.
In the heart of West Los Angeles-where there was basically a yoga studio on every block-I opened my own.
Ganesha Haus Yoga Lounge.
A boutique sanctuary for movement, breath, art and soul. Small in size, but overflowing with spirit.
It came to life not long after I returned from my first 4 month trip to India, much of which was spent in Rishikesh studying with .yogrishi . I was immersed in mantra, meditation, and the true heart of yoga. I came back changed, cracked open, alive with purpose.
And even though I was planning to leave L.A.-even though I was halfway out the door, ready to start over abroad-the opportunity and vision landed in my lap like a divine surprise.
Open a space. Share the teachings. Build the community.
So I said yes.
Even without the money.
Even without a plan.
Even though I didn’t feel remotely ready.
The universe doesn’t always wait for you to feel ready.
And when something sacred calls, you don’t block the blessing.
So I leapt.
And it kicked my ass-in all the best ways.
We hosted breathwork, sound baths, Kirtan, therapeutic poetry circles, the yoga of drawing, and yes-even tango.
My teacher .yogrishi came to lead us at our grand opening, one of the greatest honors of my life.
It was soulful. Messy. Magic.
I had to learn how to accept help.
How to become comfortable being visible.
How to stand behind what I truly believed in-
not just asana, but the full path of yoga:
Breath, mantra, stillness, philosophy, community, truth.
And to the friends and family who watched me bring it to life thank you.
To the ones who helped fund it, the teachers shared their wisdom and light,
The ones who lovingly reminded me to not lose myself in aesthetics before foundations were set,
Who helped install the wabi-sabi wall 😂, helped to paint, laid the bathroom floor, brought sacred objects to the altar,
Who stood beside me at business meetings I was scared to attend alone, who donated props, ran errands, signed people in, listened to my spirals, helped me pack it up when it all ended-you carried me. And I’ll never forget it.
Continued in comments.