Teaching adaptive yoga has changed me in ways I never expected.

Over the years, I’ve worked with people navigating brain injuries, neurological conditions, chronic illness, grief, loss, resilience, and profound change. Somewhere along the way, the people I came to teach also became some of my greatest teachers.

Today reminded me of that in the deepest possible way.

I walked into assisted living to teach a group of residents living with brain injuries and neurological challenges. But this was not a normal class.

Earlier, the residents had witnessed a terrible tragedy. One of their fellow residents had choked while eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They watched helplessly as it unfolded.

As we sat together in a circle, they described what they saw.

“He turned blue.”

“His eyes looked scared.”

There was shock in the room. Fear. Sadness. Helplessness.

I had never met many of these individuals before, yet there we were together, sitting honestly inside something painful and human.

So instead of beginning with movement, we began with presence.

Everyone named what they were feeling.

And I simply sat with them.

No rushing to fix it. No pretending everything was okay. No forcing positivity.

Just human beings allowing space for grief, fear, tenderness, and care.

Then together, we practiced Metta.

We filled our hearts with loving-kindness for the resident who passed, for his family, and for one another.

That was our yoga.

And it was the most beautiful class I have ever been part of.

At one point, one of the young men in the group began to weep. Due to his injury, he cannot move his arms.

The tears quietly rolled down his face.

He looked at me.

I asked softly, “Can I wipe your tears?”

And in that moment, something inside me felt so profoundly aligned.

Not because I had the perfect words. Not because I taught the perfect class. But because I was reminded what yoga truly is.

Presence. Compassion. Connection. Witnessing. Love.

I keep seeing his face.

I return tomorrow to sit with them again, and honestly, this experience has become one of the most meaningful moments of my professional life.

For so long, adaptive yoga has shaped me not only as a teacher, but as a human being.

It has taught me that strength does not always look the way the world tells us it should. That adapting is not weakness. That healing is not always about fixing. That sometimes the most sacred thing we can offer another person is simply our presence.

My heart felt fully alive today.

And I am deeply grateful for the reminder that even in moments of sorrow, we still carry tools that can help people feel seen, supported, and less alone.

That is yoga too.

And I will never forget it.

Enjoying this content? My book 52 Weeks of Wisdom & Wellness goes deeper — find it here.