Buddha Beach Yoga

08/24/2025

https://buddhabeachyoga.com/teacher-training/

08/24/2025

07/01/2025

Summer Schedule #

07/01/2025

Summer Schedule

07/01/2025

Our summer class schedule takes effect today (7/1-9/1). Please check our app/webpage schedule for updates. 🙏☀️

06/26/2025

Red, White, & New!
Limited run of new hoodies. Grab one today

06/26/2025

Limited run of new hoodies. Get yours today!
Perfect for the 🎇 🏖️ 🌙

06/25/2025

Summer Schedule Change
Tues/Thurs 4-5pm changes to 8-9am for July and August

06/10/2025

Some of our students may be at this stage of life. One of my favorite teachers describes it so perfectly. 💕

I’ve arrived at the season where everything I’ve poured my heart into begins to change. 
The house has grown quiet. The rooms that once pulsed with backpacks, laughter, games and the hum of daily needs begin to hold only the echoes. My children, whose lives once orbited my every breath, are suddenly stretching into their own orbits—college-bound, curious, becoming.
And I —so long devoted to the giving—find myself standing in a new kind of space.
Not empty. But open.
Not lost. But unfamiliar.
Yoga calls this the sandhya—the threshold, the dusk-light moment between what has been and what is yet to be.
A sacred pause.
A reckoning.
An unraveling.
The body, too, speaks its own language of transition: curves changing, the skin loosens, the fire inside moves in different directions. Some days I feel tender, others ablaze. The mirror reflects not loss, but evolution. Still, I grieve what is passing, even as I bow to what is emerging.
This is the truth the yogis knew: that change is not the enemy of peace—it is the portal.
 When my roles dissolve, when the ones I’ve cared for no longer need me in the same way, when my reflection shifts and I don’t quite recognize the woman staring back—I am being reformed, re-formed.
In this space, yoga is not a posture, but a promise. A promise to stay. To breathe. To listen deeply. To meet what rises in the heart without flinching (okay, some flinching.)
Grief, yes. Longing, yes. Loneliness, too. These are not mistakes—they are messengers. They are asking me not to rush ahead, but to feel it all. And in the feeling, to begin again.
If you are here—between identities, between certainties, between the life you poured your entire being into and the one yet to unfold— I SEE you, I am you in our becoming.

📸