Hi Reader,

Enjoying Presidents’ Day in the quiet of my little home in Marin County. The neighborhood feels almost empty — ski week has carried most of my neighbors toward snow and mountains.

Yesterday I taught a three-hour session on the History of Yoga for a 200-hour teacher training. It had been a while since I sat inside that timeline — really traced it, era by era — and then stood up and spoke about it out loud.

Public speaking is something I genuinely enjoy. There’s something alive about it. But there’s also that small, humbling edge: Will I do this justice? Will I say it clearly? Will I hold it well?

I did my best.

And what struck me, as I watched the students engage with the history, is how much of yoga we carry with us without even knowing its roots.

As I prepared, I found myself flipping through notes on the Vedas — the oldest spiritual texts from India — and it struck me how different the original context of yoga is from what most of us experience in a studio. Not better. Not worse. Just… deeper, more layered, and profoundly human.

We tend to meet yoga through poses. Maybe breathwork if we’re lucky. But historically, yoga grew out of a much larger philosophical and spiritual framework that lived inside the Vedic tradition. These texts weren’t fitness manuals. They were reflections on consciousness, ritual, ethics, sound, healing, and how to live in alignment with the rhythms of life.

There are four Vedas — the Rig, Yajur, Sama, and Atharva — and each one carries a slightly different emphasis. Hymns. Ritual formulas. Chants. Practical wisdom. And tucked inside that fourth Veda is the early seed of what later becomes Ayurveda — the sister science of yoga — focused on health, longevity, and balance.

What moves me most is this: yoga was never meant to be separate from daily life. It wasn’t just something you did on a mat. It was about how you spoke, how you ate, how you treated your nervous system, how you understood your place in the cosmos.

Part of what made yesterday’s class especially alive was the material I brought. I pulled out a stack of yoga books, including the exhibition book from the 2013 Asian Art Museum — Yoga: The Art of Transformation. It’s one of those big, heavy books that you don’t casually flip through. You sit with it.
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We also watched short clips of some of the most influential 20th-century yoga teachers — the people who quietly (and not so quietly) shaped what most of us now recognize as “modern yoga.” Seeing them in motion — grainy footage, simple clothing, intense focus — was inspiring.

There’s Tirumalai Krishnamacharya, often called the father of modern yoga, teaching with precision and authority.
There’s B. K. S. Iyengar, demonstrating alignment with almost architectural clarity.
​K. Pattabhi Jois moving students through strong, rhythmic sequences.
And Indra Devi, who helped introduce yoga to Hollywood and, in many ways, to American women.

It’s okay if you don’t recognize any of these names — they are basically why we have consistently popular yoga classes here in the U.S., whether it’s flow, alignment, prenatal, yin, hot yoga, restorative, or vinyasa.
​(Insert 1–2 still images from the videos here.)

If you’re curious, here are a few of the clips we watched:
—Watch Krishnamacharya Here​
— Watch Iyengar Here​

—Watch K. Pattabhi Jois Here ​

—Watch Indra Devi Here​

And honestly, this feels very relevant right now.

Because so many of us are exhausted. Dysregulated. Overstimulated. Trying to “optimize” instead of simply live well.

The Ayurvedic lens reminds us that health is rhythmic. That digestion matters — not just of food, but of experience. That routine steadies the mind. That wisdom traditions didn’t separate body from spirit.

There’s something relieving about remembering yoga has roots. Deep ones.

It takes the pressure off performance.

It brings it back to practice.

What would change if you approached your mat (or your meals, or your mornings) as part of a much bigger conversation about how to live well?

If this topic interests you, I’ll be weaving more of this context into upcoming classes and workshops — gently, practically, in a way that feels usable. No dogma. Just depth.

And if you want to explore how Ayurveda fits into your actual life — digestion, skin, sleep, hormones, energy — you can always book a free intro call or simply reply here and tell me what’s coming up for you.

I love hearing from you.

Marisa