Laura’s Yoga Teacher Training journey…

She feels lost and realises she’s never had much time alone. Unsure of what to do next and needing some time and space to work it all out…she says hello to a month on an island off the coast of mainland Bali and a Yoga Teacher Training course. And an ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ (if you must call it that) situation unfolds….

I had my month of soul searching, March 2017.  I packed my bag and boarded a flight to Denpasar, Bali, taking a small boat to the nearby island of Nusa Lembongan.

If you’ve ever been to Bali you’ll know how chaotic and overwhelming those first few hours can be. The airport is always crazy; full of the smiling faces of the local taxi drivers trying to take you somewhere you may or may not need to go. The humidity, the smells and the colours, already familiar to me from previous trips engulfed me as I dragged my bag to my transfer and we weaved through the (always terrifying) Balinese traffic.

I arrived late, it was dark and I knew no-one. I definitely had first night nerves as I unpacked and found some food before heading to bed. A power cut in the middle of the night resulted in me waking up covered in sweat hours later after the ceiling fan had obviously been rudely interrupted.

It might sound like an OTT cliche but the four weeks that followed were life changing.

Although I definitely didn’t realise it at the time. At the time I found it insanely challenging. There were pockets of pure joy; sitting in the sunshine making new friends, swimming the length of the beach at lunchtime (and not drowning); there were SO MANY ‘ah-ha’ moments during our Philosophy classes as I started to really see the links between the ancient yogic philosophy and the modern lives we lead.

The likeness between the Bhagavad Gita and the ‘battlefield’ of every day life; the Yamas and Niyamas and the way we interact with others and ourselves, and how all of the learning and study begins to crack you open and force you to REALLY get to know yourself.

It was HARD but looking back we all knew that that’s why it was so special.

It’s a serious Pandora’s box situation, once you dive in there really is no going back but the magic you find amongst the mess is something you’ll never lose again.

Days started around 5am with asana practice and ended around 6pm with meditation or Yoga Nidra. The space in-between packed full of ancient teachings, anatomy classes, meditation and reading. Evenings were either spent alone (some days the quiet and reflection was very much needed); or in a group sharing a delicious meal and a cold beer, on particularly tough days.

Emotions would run high, everyone carrying their own baggage and history into what were often deep, philosophical discussions. It could be tiring, sitting for long periods of time trying to retain lots of (mostly new) information. But we all had something telling us it would be worth it.

We were like a little family, looking out for each other, all going through our own transformations and having fun along the way.

By the end of the month, the prospect of not seeing these women every day was a strange one. We were an eclectic bunch but somehow it worked.

One by one we started to return to our own corners of the world; to the UK, Italy, America, Australia, all with different plans for the year ahead, not all to teach yoga but all carrying the teachings of yoga with us.