The Yoga practice is not the space — it’s the relationship.
If someone have told me in my early 20s that I would be a yoga teacher owning her own business ( yoga studio ),
I would say I doubted that could happen, but unfortunately, it really did !
I owned a yoga studio in Thessaloniki, Greece for 7 years, after a full teaching debut for ten years, in all kinds of places, where Yoga could make a difference in people's lives - just because people did not know what it is or how it actually work. Until 2014 people thought that Yoga is for outcasts, and basically for proselytism.
So because of the culture and its denial to listen and accept something else, I was a dedicated full time yoga teacher, that was known as a gymnast although what I taught had nothing to do with gymnastics.
So, it was after my repeated experience around people who were in a lot of physical and mental pain that I decided to make the next step and open up a small but very homy place that I could finally offer the practices that I was confident that help - therapeutic based practices, restorative yoga, contemplative practices, healthy nutrition and meditation.
To be honest, at that time I was scared, had left from a strong yoga community in NYC, that with love and guidance my teachers back then convinced me I can create this kind of community back home in Greece - and so I did or best if I say I tried !
I tired bringing people together - offering space time and options to collaborate and grow together as a family.
But different collaborations did not work, I took risks and observed the pros and cons of being both the yoga space owner, the manager, the advisor, the teacher and so on... until the crisis broke me and lead me to take more responsible decisions as a human being, not merely as a yoga space owner.
I want to say that, people who decide to take risks and own a yoga space legally licensed are very brave. Especially if they rent the space and have to build a business out of nothing - without having a business or marketing background. And believe me, these yoga teachers are hard-workers but now always for themselves.
So, after many trials and negotiations, I decided to close the yoga studio and now after some months of repositioning and redefining myself in the Yoga world, I can understand that haven't been in a transitional phase like this one, with so much honesty and clarity of myself and of others that approached me in the past but also in the present moment.
I find myself returning again and again to one question:
What is it that makes us sustain something in our lives?
An object. An activity. A person. A relationship.
And naturally: what is it that makes us sustain yoga in our lives?
Because let’s be honest — nothing stays unless we nourish it.
Everything we choose serves us but for each of us, in a different way.
Somewhere there, we meet, in a shared intention and from that point on, the connection deepens - or it doesn’t -
depending on how willing we truly are to be in it.
These days, I think a lot about community.
Not as a concept.
But as a responsibility.
How do you care for people whose paths have crossed with yours?
How do you create something with substance — not just a “nice experience”?
Because yes — yoga is alive.
But it is not confined to a space.
As much as we may love that space.
As much as we may need it.
Personally, I mostly practice at home with teachers who live in different parts of the world.
And when I meet them in person — in a retreat or a training —that connection becomes stronger. Not because it’s necessary, but because it is a conscious choice.
And that brings me to two simple questions:
Can we always be in the same place?
Can others always be there for us?
In recent years, yoga has changed form.
Not in its essence — but in the way we meet it.
In-person practice has been — and still is — something sacred: the space, the journey to get there, the pause,
the shared intention, yes — many times it is also an escape and that is human.
But let’s dare to look at something else:
What happens when we remove the space?
When there is no studio.
No environment to hold us.
What remains is something more “raw”:
our relationship with ourselves.
And that’s where the real practice begins.
I’ll be honest.
For years, I resisted online yoga. Even when people were asking for it, maybe I was afraid that something of the magic would be lost or that without the space, something would be missing. And yes — something is missing.
But also something else appears.
Today, I don’t believe in comparison. It doesn’t make sense, in-person and online practice are not better or worse. They are different, with a different intention and a different mirror.
Online practice is not the easy option, in many ways, it is the most honest one.
Because at home:
- there is no structure holding you
- there is no gaze defining you
- there is no role to play
There is only one choice:
will you show up, or not?
And this is where excuses begin to dissolve.
Not because someone is pushing you.
But because there is nowhere left to hide.
A difficult truth I’ve encountered:
It’s not about the space.
It’s not about the teacher.
It’s about our relationship with commitment.
And online practice doesn’t create this challenge.
It reveals it.
No comparison, no performance.
No need to prove anything.
Just you, your breath, and your body.
And for many people, this is where a more meaningful relationship with yoga begins.
Not as an experience, but as a way of being.
So the question is not:
“which one is better?”
The question is:
“how do I want to relate to my practice?”
Because yes — I’ve seen inconsistency.
I’ve seen hesitation.
I’ve seen judgment and rejection.
And most of the time, it has nothing to do with the method.
It has to do with the way we relate to ourselves.
So my invitation is simple:
Don’t see online practice as a “second option”.
See it as an opportunity to meet yourself — without distractions.
To build consistency — without dependency.
To choose — again and again — to show up.
To keep the relationship if you feel like it means something to you.
This is the way I like to think about it:
Yoga is a huge ancient amazingly beautiful rare tree with many different branches - and we are all climbing and sharing our paths together on that tree, we meet - laugh, share, learn and grow on a certain level together.
Because in the end,
the practice doesn’t happen in a space.
It happens in the relationship.
And that can begin a n y w h e r e.
Just as I was present within a physical space, I am present now as well.
Perhaps even more open.
Perhaps for more people.
Perhaps in a different way that might scare some.
But with the same intention:
to practice together.
Even if we are in different parts of the world.
As long as we stay connected —
with each other, and with ourselves.