From heels to barefoot

I’ve never been precious about the fact that not all students will resonate with me as a teacher. Some people will come to a class of mine and love it, feel connected and that they’re exactly where they need to be whilst others will feel completely out of sorts, uncomfortable and never want to set foot in another class with me again. From the perspective of a student – I get it. I’ve travelled near and far to find my teacher(s). I’m particular about who I practice with and I must feel connected with them and their philosophy toward the practice. Over the years, as I delved deeper into the practice I’ve come to understand that all teachers are different. We tend to expect that going into any yoga class should result in a sensation of complete bliss, connection and calm. Whilst this can be the case, should we not trust or feel connected with our teacher then the experience can be quite the opposite. One of frustration, worry and inadequacy. The reality is, the relationship between a teacher and student will never be egalitarian and so it is crucial we feel this positive connection to ensure we feel supported in our practice and safe to be vulnerable. For it is only when this has been achieved, that we can experience the true benefits of our practice, hence why I’m so particular and why I encourage others to be particular also.

If you’ve ever walked into an Ashtanga Shala/studio, you would know it can be a little intimidating at first. The discipline possessed by these students is admirable and I thrive on being surrounded by it. This morning I was introduced to one of the most wonderful Ashtanga teachers who too practices in Mysore. I connected with her immediately and felt right at home in her presence. Tick!

Her calm, soft demeanor makes her so approachable and yet there is a strictness that one would never question or disobey. I respond well to this type of teacher as it forces me to remain focused. There is no time for my mind to wander. I am here, in the moment and connecting with each and every breath. Considering I teach most 6.00am classes at the Jessica Dewar Yoga studio, I am restricted with my ability to train with other teachers. Recently I have been granted this freedom and since training under the guidance of an expert, my personal practice has been revitalized. As I maintain a self-practice at home 6 days a week, it can be difficult to progress without the guidance of another. It is also very challenging to maintain motivation to continue with a strong practice. And I know I’m not alone when it comes to motivation. Whilst I have my morning rituals, that I would never neglect, I’ve recognized that I’m becoming stagnant in my practice. That I’m not moving forward as I would like – and I know this is because I don’t have someone assessing how I move and helping me to push the boundaries.

Well – this morning those boundaries were pushed. Full body-to-body adjustments, forcing my hips open, my spine to lengthen and my breath to come under control – I came out of my practice feeling reinvigorated. Excited to learn the new boundaries I’ve just reached. I can only be with my new teacher once weekly, but I achieved more today that I have in the past two months since returning from India.

Many new students come to our studio with similar concerns around motivation and a lack of progression. As I maintain with each of them, I believe two things to be true:

Making time to come into a sacred space once a week, and really dedicate that time to themselves without other distractions is important for mental clarity, inspiration and learning.

Maintaining a personal practice where the principals learned in class are then applied at home is key to progression.

I do not believe anyone should feel tied to a Shala/studio, but rather know that our space is there to support students as they deepen their self-study and to reinvigorate their practice also – just as I know my teacher’s space will be there for me when I can be with her. At the end of the day, we are all human and sometimes motivation does dwindle. So make some time in your diary to step into a class and/or get on your mat, be present in the moment and just Be. There is only good that can come from this place.

Sending big, positive and invigorated hugs to you all,

We run a pretty incredible operation if you ask me. Sure I might be biased, but when I look at the people who come to our space and the incredible teachers we are fortunate enough to have teaching with us; I know we have something pretty special going on…So what are we missing?

What is it about a donation-based studio that keeps some  people from a consistent practice regime? I can’t help but wonder if this type of model actually does the opposite of what I have hoped. My making yoga accessible to everyone, with little to no monetary commitment and no contractual obligations, does it in fact keep people from maintaining a regular practice as it’s “always there when I want it”.

When there is a monetary commitment, we notice a trend with attendance: Students attend more regularly. Why is this?

Is it because they have psychologically committed to their practice through making a financial commitment and so they follow through with the commitment of actually attending classes? Is the incentive to keep coming back to get their ‘moneys worth’? Yet on the flipside if we have the option of only paying a donation when and if we attend a class then it’s easier to just ‘book in’ and not attend. The drive to keep consistent appears to be less.

I’m an Ashtanga practitioner and so my practice demands that I practice daily. To attend my Shala in India, I must also pay a hefty lump sum in cash prior to commencing my month or more of practice. There is strictly no ‘drop-in’ classes. You commit and that is that.

Whilst I’m mindful we don’t live in a society that facilitates this type of practice, I wonder if the act of payment in advance is actually far more powerful than that of leaving the contribution amount up to the individual. As a new business owner, who has never professed to know all the answers, I’m taking time each and every day to assess what is working and what isn’t. What strategies to maintain and which to modify or remove completely. Whilst I have no intention of suddenly transforming our studio into a regular full-fee studio, it certainly does create some food for thought. Would people respect their practice more, or be more motivated, to attend class if they have a set fee to pay in advance? Do we need those sorts of restrictions to minimize the options in a world where too much choice can be overwhelmingly and even paralyzing?

I would love for any readers and students to comment on this blog post about whether the donation model encourages you to attend class or deters you. Perhaps it something you may not have even thought about? Leave any comments below! :)

Thank you in advance everyone for your support and encouragement. We are all most grateful.

Sending hugs,

If it weren’t for my daily practice, then it’s highly likely the partially sane person I am would not exist. My life is go, go, go. And to be clear this is only because I choose it to be and so being a go, go, go kind of person doesn’t phase me. Plus, let’s face it - it’s very unlike Jessica to make life a little simpler for myself… But this is how I like it, this is the state where I do my best work and this is also a byproduct of my Type-A personality.

But as of late I’ve been feeling a little unsettled. A little out of sorts if you will. I haven’t been able to put my finger on it but I’ve known it’s there. Sitting down to work during the day has been an effort as my mind has been scattered. I’m usually pretty good at latching onto a particular task and getting it done but for whatever reason, I’ve been unable to find this clarity of focus.

My practice has also been off in the morning. Getting up has been extra difficult, my back has been playing up and my mind has been lazy. When my mind is lazy, my practice (and my life) gets lazy too. And whilst I notice this about myself, it doesn’t always mean I take active steps to change it. As a fellow human being, I too (on occasion) like to bask in the lazy way of living. And although this does nothing to help propel my life in the trajectory I desire, for whatever reason I tend to indulge these unhelpful, scattered, can’t work it out so don’t try, ways of thinking. In all fairness to myself, this generally lasts for maybe a lunch hour or at worst an afternoon, but it’s still not the best mindset to get caught up in for any length of time.

So today, whilst in that mindset, I decided it was time to step away from my computer and take the pooches for a walk. They were looking at me with their puggy guilt ridden eyes and I gave in. Plus, I needed the fresh air as I’d been teaching back-to-back classes for the past 6 hours. The trouble I have with days like today is I finally get home to a mountain of work to be done and emails to reply to so I tend to feel drowned in work. And then in a poor attempt to get ontop of my work, I inefficiently begin ploughing through my to-do list. I bog myself down, feel stressed that I can’t be all people at once and then transition into either the can’t work it out so don’t try mindset or the I can’t move from this desk until everything is done mindset. None of which are helpful. (Wow – that was tiring just reading that back to myself! Point demonstrated).

As I harnessed up Tyrone and Lola I decided to leave my phone at home. This phone is normally glued to me and I’m forever on it. If it’s not a phone call its checking emails or Facebook updates. This phone has become somewhat of a miracle and equally a burden in my life. Whatever it means to me and for my business, for my state of mind I decided it needed to stay home. I needed to just Be. To walk without the distraction of calls or the temptations to check emails. I needed to just unplug for an hour. Whilst there is literally a small level of anxiety around being without this portable tracking device, as I reached the end of my driveway I suddenly felt light. I felt free. That I could completely relax and absorb my surroundings without the constant niggle that my phone would go off at any moment. The volume of the world, of life, was immediately turned down. I began to notice the simple but beautiful things that surrounded me. The leaves falling on the green grass as winter nears, the dew on the roses, the sun shining through tree branches. My dogs also seem happier when I’m without my phone. It’s as though they know they have my complete attention and whilst this may sound silly, I believe this to be true. We played with leaves, explored new paths and sniffed (well, not me) every tree we passed. We were truly present to the complete experience we shared, and I realized this is something I’ve been missing lately. Being constantly plugged in is not a healthy way of being and I need to distance myself from it a little more, for if I don’t then who knows what precious moments I could miss.

As I sit here now, writing this entry, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the day I’ve had. For the special moments I only noticed because I decided to slow down. These are reminders that I need to do this more often for not only does it bring clarity in what might otherwise have seemed impossible situations, but it brings me back to myself. This is the place where I do, not only my best work, but where I can be the best version of me.

Sending present hugs to you all,

Jessica xx

In a private class yesterday, my student and I had a conversation about flexibility. An ex-dancer, she moves her body with grace and elegance, with a level of freedom and fluidity that is beautiful to witness. Admiring how she moved, my guess would have been that she continues to dance daily. I was shocked when she said she had not danced for over 20 years. I asked how she has maintained her flexibility over the years and she answered with this simple, yet powerful response: “I believe flexibility is a state of mind. I’m spontaneous and try not to get caught in mundane daily routines. When my mind is free, my body is free also.”

I found this to be such profound insight and something that I shall keep with me always. Whilst the concept is simple, if we actually take a moment to stop and contemplate this, there is so much depth behind it.

I personally can get very stuck in my ways. I like routine, to the point of being a little OCD in many areas of my life, I can easily get caught up on the little things (which really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things), and I lack creativity (hence my inability to cook edible meals. I’m no longer allowed in the kitchen at home). There are many areas of my life that are very rigid that I’ve needed to consciously work on – I’m talking body, mind and spirit.

Reflecting on my journey with yoga, I will never forget how stiff my body was in the beginning. I began yoga at one of the most stressful times of my life and I felt so restricted in my body (and upon reflection, more so in my mind). As my practice has developed and as I’ve matured and changed over the years, my body has begun to unlock in ways I once never thought possible. Whilst I still have many neurotic issues that will forever be a part of who I am, I’ve become far better at witnessing and understanding these. And as I’ve come to understand myself a little better, I’ve become more aware of my responses to neurotic thoughts, which I believe is crucial to finding freedom and flexibility, in body and mind.

With that in mind, in May I will be hosting a Yoga For Flexibility workshop where you will learn techniques to release tension and tightness in the body, and techniques to control the mind that will manifest into an even deeper release in the physical body.

Spaces are still available if you would like to join us. Click her for more details and to register.

Until then, remember to take time out to slow down, breath and find let the mind be free.

Sending hugs,

Many people have asked me why I practice Ashtanga yoga. Whilst I have deep respect for all styles of yoga (Hatha yoga in particular) Ashtanga has taught me many life changing lessons and I want to share three of those lessons with you today.

Lesson 1: Discipline is key

In Ashtanga, we practice the same sequence six mornings a week until given permission (traditionally) from a qualified instructor to progress to the next series. There are six series in Ashtanga yoga and each series is carefully designed to develop the right amount of balance, strength and flexibility within your body that will prepare you for a progression to the next. With this understanding of the sequences, I fully respect that I need to maintain a consistent practice in order to progress. The discipline is in the commitment to the physical practice regardless of how tired, bored or sore I am; the ritual of getting up every morning at 3.30am (I need to do this as I am teaching at 6.00am) and; most importantly, the discipline of my mind to maintain the (at times monotonous) unchanging sequence. 

Lesson 2: My practice has the power to develop deep self-awareness

I continually working on the same sequence I have come to notice some deeper, subtler changes in both my body and mind. I have noticed how little niggles shift daily, how my balance is effected by my thoughts, how my breath strengthens and relieves pain in my back. Before practicing yoga, and with a very irregular practice years ago, these subtleties remained hidden. And whilst I’m mindful I have barely scratched the surface in terms of deepening my self-awareness, I do feel that I’m now heading in the right direction!

Lesson 3: Just the slightest shift in perfection will determine my day

Let’s get something clear here – I am not overjoyed when my alarm goes off at 3.30am. I’m no different to anyone else when it comes to the dread of pulling myself from my cozy bed and onto my cold mat in the living room. But what I have learned over the years is my mind will dictate my practice every morning. Without a structured practice, I would often find myself lying on my mat not doing a whole lot. Whilst I may feel tired, if I tell myself I will have a strong practice that day, then I shall. If I give in to lazy thoughts, then that is exactly how I will feel on my mat. And because Ashtanga is repetitive, I always know the difference between a focused and intentional practice, and a lazy, ‘go-through-the-motions’ practice.

How I choose to think in the morning – strong and focused or lazy and weak is exactly what I bring into the rest of my day. Whilst I’m only human and I too give into the lazy thinking, I’ve definitely recognized the power of my mind to change the direction of my practice, and my entire day, with just the slightest shift in perception.  

So there you have it – three key lessons the practice of Ashtanga yoga has taught me. I lead Ashtanga classes five mornings a week at the studio to help others who are also committed to a regular practice and I welcome anyone who is keen to try. Whilst it may seem a little intimidating at first, given time, it could totally transform your life in the same way it has mine.

Sending warm hugs,

As I write this I’m sitting on my mothers balcony in my favourite part of the world, Encounter Bay. I have a view of the ocean, the sun has just risen and the world around me is still asleep. I’ve just finished my practice, watching as the world goes from dark to light, and as I sip my cup of tea writing this, I feel nothing but an overwhelming sense gratitude.

The Easter weekend just been has been nothing short of chaotic – to put it frankly. My entire family would agree. This is a time of year when we all get together – countless children, extended family, dogs, cats… Everyone is here and we are all under the same roof. Brady Bunch eat your heart out! And yet chaos aside, I am always so saddened to leave and so grateful for having been a part of it.

There are tears, the odd argument, many laughs and a lot of catching up. Whilst my family get togethers are the surest way of promoting anxiety even in the calmest of person, I really do love them. Owen and I are really quiet people and considering we have no family back in Melbourne, these hectic gatherings are now few and far between. And let’s not pretend that our distance doesn’t contribute to making them (our gatherings) more bearable every year. But chaos aside, at the end of the day, this is my family and I love and miss them all. We decided to move to Melbourne for many reasons, a primary reason being that there are many more opportunities as compared with Adelaide. But this has come at a rather large sacrifice – being that we are no longer near to our families.

Growing up, I recall this desperation to get out of the house, travel and be away from everyone. I wanted to find myself and learn to stand on my own two feet. I was tired of everyone elses opinions and the feeling that I will never be taken seriously (as I’m the baby). Interestingly enough, however, having taken this time and space through travel and moving away, I’ve come to realize just how important my family is. How much they mean to me – craziness and all. The little things that use to frustrate me no longer do. Rather I can laugh at these things. I can appreciate and accept the vast differences between us, as well as the similarities we share.

Owen and I have no intention of moving back to Adelaide any time soon. Our life is now in Melbourne and we love it there. But this doesn’t mean it is easy to leave our family each and every time our little holidays are over. Sitting here, overlooking my favourite view in the world with mum in the room next to me is so comforting. I’m always sad to leave and wish I could just make time stand still for a little while longer. But the reality is, I can’t. Nor can any of us. Which leaves me with no choice but to feel grateful for the time we’ve shared.

I’ve been very present this weekend which has not always been easy for me to do, but has been important for my own peace of mind and happiness. I was always desperate to hold onto moments in fear of weekends or holidays ending – so much so I didn’t enjoy the time at all. My dread of good things coming to an end always came, something I use to feel so bitter about. But not now. I believe happiness is found through presence – through ones ability to be present. If we can be present then we deeply experience each and every moment – chaos and all!

If we are in the moment, then we will never experience that feeling of regret or longing for we know we made the most of something important to us. This is where I find happiness and I hope others will find it too.

We will drive home to Melbourne today – Owen and our two furry babies – and we will reflect fondly on the weekend just been, knowing we made the most of it and that there are more special times ahead.

Sending grateful hugs,

Patience. Pfffftttt. Who has patience!

If anyone knows what it feels like to want something and want it now, it’s me. Patience is not exactly something I would consider one of my stronger traits. In my career, as a typical ‘overachiever’, I was determined to accelerate my way to the top of the corporate ladder. I wanted to be in management, have the salary and prestige (how wrong I was) that goes with saying I’m a manager. I’ll be damned if I’m just an employee. Without realizing, I began Jessica Dewar Yoga with a similar mindset. I wanted to have the perfect branding, studio setup, marketing plans in place, policies organized, bookkeeping set up, legal work drawn up, professional website… I wanted a polished product because I didn’t want to open a studio that was nothing less than the highest possible standard that I set for myself, because I wanted my students to experience nothing less.

Well, it turns out this was not to be. Never before have I had to scrape and scrounge and get quite as resourceful as I have with Jessica Dewar Yoga. And in retrospect, this has not only helped ground me, but it’s reminded me of a few home truths, namely: 1) we don’t all get what we want when we want it. And 2) even if everything were handed to us on a silver platter, then where is the learning, much less the appreciation for the journey?

The earliest months of starting Jessica Dewar Yoga were by far some of the toughest I’ve ever experienced in my life. The uncertainty of being able to pay my rent – for the roof over my head and the studio, the challenges with trying to juggle bills and basic living expenses. It was, and in many respects continues to be, a constant challenge. Whilst I dreamed of the day coming when I wouldn’t need to panic that rent was looming and that I had the perfect studio with a great marketing team in place, what I’ve come to understand is that I was in no way ready for this. As a business owner I mean. I wasn’t ready to manage anything larger that what I had in the beginning (which was just myself). I could have had the best marketing plan laid out, but if I didn’t truly understand our studio and the needs of the community (which I only partially know now), then how could I have possibly given my students what they want? It would have been misguided energy and the loss of a large sum of money no doubt. Rather, by being forced to take this entire process slowly, and make a million and one mistakes along the way, I’ve learned invaluable lessons in business and in life.

When I felt like the walls were closing in (not too long ago) I knew it was important to hold on. To trust the process. I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel where I would see the studio start to pick up organically through the small means of marketing I have available to me – primarily word of mouth. And it really has. On the Wednesday just been, our studio was featured in The Urban List! So sure – it is nice to get lots of publicity and funding overnight, but if I don’t know what to do with it, then what’s the point? Now, I’m in a place where the pieces of the puzzle are starting to fall into place and I can maximize the support we receive to try and grow the awareness a little further.

So as a final note – to myself and for those who care to learn – don’t wish the journey away. Rather, experience it. Enjoy the messy and uncertain times. There is profound learning to be had in these places. Oh, and a little bit of patience can go a long way it seems.. ;)

Sending hugs,

It took many years before finding a teacher I truly connected with. I'm pretty direct and I've never been a 'new-age' kind of person. As a side note - I find it disappointing yoga has been labeled as new age, which is ironic considering the practice is thousands of years old, but that's neither here nor there. Regardless of how yoga is labeled, new age or not, for many years I struggled with the practice. I kept with it as I knew there was something powerful within it that I was yet to unlock or experience (consciously anyway), but this didn't make it an easy practice to maintain. It turns out, one of the biggest barriers for me was my teacher. I've had many (teachers) over the years - my teachers varied as I moved house many times in my twenties. I was also quick to leave a studio if I didn't connect with a teacher. I found it particularly difficult practicing with teachers who behaved as though they were floating in a cloud of unshakable inner silence and pure elation. Whilst I have no doubt this state is attainable, and this is something we all work towards, I struggled with the voice that was so soft I thought the room would explode if my voice were to be heard in comparison. It wasn't me. And if you've met me, you know I have anything but a calm, serene, unshakable stillness in my voice. I'm loud, nasal and have a twang in my accent that no-one can quite pick, especially myself. I'm from Adelaide so maybe that explains something...

So where am I headed with this? That's right, finding a teacher I connected with. It wasn't until I began practicing with Guiji in India that I began to feel more connected with the practice and with myself. There is absolutely nothing new-agey about him. He is strict, he is direct and he has no issue with forcefully pulling and pushing my body around to bring it into alignment. There is nothing soft about this type of practice. It is what it is and I like that. It's about the art of yoga, the discipline of yoga and maintaining a deep respect for what the practice represents. The seriousness with which the practice is taught has captured my full attention and is what draws me back to India each year.

But whilst it is wonderful I have a teacher whom I connect with and trust implicitly, I appreciate maintaining a self-practice here in Australia is quite limiting in itself. With the guidance of my teacher, my practice accelerates. A momentum that is hard to achieve when practicing on your own every morning. So I have decided it is time to venture out and seek experienced Ashtanga teachers, those who too, travel to Mysore. I shall seek out a teacher who shares this same devotion and respect for the practice. Someone who is about the practice, not the idea of it.

This is going to be a confronting experience for me as I've not given myself the opportunity to continue a regular practice with a new teacher in Australia. This is in part due to having struggled for so long to find a quality teacher I resonate with, and also if I'm honest with myself, is partly due to an arrogant mindset that no other teacher could measure up to Him. But this is a mindset that I know does not serve me. It prevents me from expanding my horizons and indirectly minimises not only the brilliance of many teachers out there, but also my own potential to be a brilliant teacher one day also. If I do not allow myself to connect and learn from others back here, then I shall be very limited in my long term potential and growth.

Moral of the story - we need teachers and we need to be open to what others can show us. This does not mean we take advice or guidance from just anyone. Be particular about who you practice/work with. But unless we give others a try, we can never know what potential we are missing.

Sending open minded hugs,

If you know me, you know the title of this blog is a pun if ever there was one. Whilst I would like to say I know the answer to a life of tranquility and absolute peace, the reality is – I don’t. And I don’t know anyone else who holds this solution either. Sorry.

This past week has been anything but peace and tranquility for me. And it seems for many of my students also. Uni has gone back, it’s been consistently hot weather (shocking for Melbourne standards)… Life is busy and stress levels are on the rise for people. Myself included. I like to write my blog as I feel something. As a topic of interest comes to me that I want to share with those who care to read it. But today, this week in fact, I’ve got nothing. I feel totally blank. My mind is scattered, and my practice is off. It’s just been one of those weeks. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m in no way dissatisfied with my life. All I can put it down to is simply just being ‘one of those weeks’!

The Type-A Overachiever in me tends to get really pissed off when I have a week like this. Actually, an unproductive day or even an hour can annoy me. I hate to waste time. I’m up at 3.30am every day and I make the most of every minute. If I don’t then the unhelpful, critical parts of myself begin to kick in and tell me to work harder, to stop slacking off. I often talk about being accepting of our own journey and the different paths we will take. To embrace the good and the bad, the tough times and the easier times. Well, this has been a week where I’ve needed to really take a leaf out of my own book and allow myself to be OK with the hurdles I’ve faced. My washing isn’t folded, the dishes are not put away and cooking – well, thank goodness my partner cooks or I would starve to death. I’ve lacked the motivation to really push as I normally would. It’s just been one of those weeks and that is OK!

At the end of the day, we’re all human. Our physical and emotional body will fluctuate. No two days will ever be the same and whilst we may have the energy to run a marathon one day it does not mean we have the same energy the next. I’m a classic example of someone who can quickly head toward burnout if I don’t pause and reflect, so I’m accepting that this time, this week has been an opportunity to do just that. Pause and reflect about where I’m at, where I’m heading and what steps to take next. Rather than being angry about this, I’m enjoying the process of being slightly more tranquil and a little more peaceful in my mind, achieved purely by granting myself permission to slow down.

If you’re feeling a little run down, be sure join our Sunday Restorative Yoga classes or a deeply relaxing Yin Class on a Monday and Friday evening. If you ask me, they’re always just what the doctor ordered.

Sending tranquil and peaceful hugs,

I did something yesterday that I haven’t done in over 10 years. Whilst to many it will not seem like a big deal, trivial in fact, to me it was a big step.

So, I am not a water person. I don’t swim. In fact I hate swimming. I was forced to do swimming lessons every summer school holidays and of course every class ironically fell on the coldest mornings. My memories of being in the water suck. The ocean – well, when I was young I did the whole jetty jumping, jet skiing, boat jumping thing – but come teenage years when I felt as insecure as anything about my body – this all ended. Mostly because I liked to wear make-up and feared all the cute boys seeing me without make-up on. I wore makeup because I was, and still am, a freckle faced girl. I was so embarrassed by my freckles. I will never forget the day my big brother told me, “Jessica if you get one more freckle on your face you’ll turn into one big freckle!” Way to boost the confidence of a 13 year old. Thank you Marcus!

So make-up was to stay, and water was to go. There is nothing worse than mascara running down your face when you’re trying to impress the cute boys.

Then came the transition from girl to woman. Ladies, we all know what this means! Yup, skinny legs and mini waists are no more. We start to fill out, bums get bigger and the spare tyre around the belly begins to appear. I had many weight related issues growing up. I was never a big girl. My weight sat around 58 kilograms and I’m now at 60 kg, but I began noticing what all women fear – the big C word – yup! Good old cellulite! I’ve lost weight dramatically and gained it all right back – in every case, cellulite was there to stay. I might have less of it through training and healthy eating, but regardless, it’s there. And despite knowing EVERY SINGLE WOMAN IN THE WORLD HAS CELLUITE, I hated seeing it in my body. Hence, this was another reason why I stopped the bikini’s and decided to be one of those people who only walks on the beach or sits by the pool with my feet in the water. Enough to cool me off without the humiliation of having to strip down and bare all.

I’ve always admired those women who were so confident in their bodies that they were quite happy to lay on a beach or walk around in their teenee-weenie bikini. I wanted to have that freedom but felt so restricted by my own insecurities that I never allowed myself to do this. In my mind, I needed the perfect model like, size 8 body with not a hint of fat on it.

But this is not reality. Having a photographer as a partner has meant learning all about the modeling industry and the level of work photographers go to to hide those lumps and bumps. I’ve seen myself turn from a size 12 to a size 8 in a photo using Photoshop technology. Incredible! But totally unreal.

However, despite knowing these photographer tricks which are designed to heighten our insecurities to market a product or experience, there is still that deep, dark insecure part that stops me from accepting that I don’t look like one of these models.

Until now. After a long enough time of wearing skin tight clothing – and my goodness can yoga tights be all revealing – I’ve learned to really love and accept my body as it is. Sure, there are days when I would like to shave off a bit here and there, but feeling comfortable in my skin is a really lovely place to be. I use my body to demonstrate twists, turns, inversions – movement in all directions – and having such huge issues with body image over the years, it turns out this has been one of my best therapies.

And with this newfound confidence, I decided to try something I haven’t done in over a decade, and that’s go swimming at the local pool. I pulled out my Roxy bikini from a million years ago – basically still brand new as I wore it about thrice – and headed to the local swimming pool. The bikini bottoms were a little tighter than 10 or more years ago but of course the top fitted perfectly. Why does all the fat head for the bum and not the boobs?!

Feeling a little nervous at first, I stripped down. Looking around me at all the other women in their bathers, I realized just how beautiful we all look - just as we are. It also came to my attention that no one is pointing and laughing, or looking on with disgust. No one cares! The fear is mine and mine alone. My body is just like everyone elses and there is nothing to be ashamed of. I was here to swim and swim I did.

Turns out, I’m a terrible swimmer and was done within 45 minutes of being in the water. At the point of sinking more than swimming I decided to call it quits for the day. I think a few lessons might be in order… But that is a side point here. The message is that we are beautiful just as we are. And the neurotic fears we have about different problems like weight, skin, hair etc are just that – neurotic. In challenging those fears we can come to know ourselves a little more and expand our horizons exponentially. Whilst I doubt I will become a regular swimmer, as it’s still not a favourite pass time, experiences like these are teaching me to be more accepting of, well, Me. Even with the lumps and bumps.

On a closing note, ask yourself if there is something you’ve avoided in fear of ridicule. I challenge and I urge you to face this fear. You never know what pain it may release and doors it may open.

Sending hugs from me (cellulite and all),

Over the past month or so I’ve been nursing a bad back. Of all the times it had to play up, it was whilst back in India, but regardless I had to work with where I was at at the time – and I continue to do so each an every day. Since returning home my back has been 1000% better compared with what it was. A combination of my own bed, developing my pelvic floor strength and maintaining a regular practice have all contributed to the rapid healing process. But whilst my back feels better, if there was anything I learned whilst in India this time round, it was the importance of understanding my limits.

As an Ashtanga practitioner, unfortunately the ego can be a big problem. I see it a lot in yoga, but in Ashtanga especially (due to being such a physically demanding practice) the ego can quickly take over. Turns out, in my recent circumstances, if I allowed ego to take over I would have been in a much worse position and the healing may have taken far longer. Why? I would have pushed myself beyond what my body was ready to accept. For those who have not practiced in Ashtanga, it is a set sequence that involves many jump-backs and jump-throughs and these require excellent control of the core and pelvic floor.  I’ve somewhat feared the jump backs (into caturanga) as I’ve worried my core is not strong enough to support a soft land. If I don’t land softly and strongly then I run the risk of throwing my back out – again! Not ideal. Rather, I’ve been taking it nice and easy over the past few weeks by stepping back into a plank position before lowering into caturanga with control. I felt safe here and I knew this slower process was not only allowing my body to heal, but it was teaching me how to be more mindful when making this transition. I’ve seen many people injure themselves here because of a lack of core and pelvic floor strength and the reliance on muscle strength alone. This is a recipe for injury. Trust me, I know! But in my practice this morning I felt it was time to re-introduce jump backs. It took me a little while before building up the courage to make this transition, but when I did I felt elated. Turns out through my injury I’ve developed a control in my practice that I’ve not experienced before. Whilst it might sound a little crazy, my body felt light through the transition. Almost weightless for just a split second.

This feeling, however, only lasted for about 4-5 jump backs before I could feel myself getting a little lazy in the practice as I was tired. So I knew it was time to pull back and return to taking it one step at a time. For some, especially very advanced practitioners, this will seem irrelevant and unimportant. But for me, this is very important. It was a little win and I believe it is these little wins which amount to bigger and bigger wins over time. Whilst I’m referring to a physical movement, there is much more depth to this achievement when we look into it a little further. It’s about the commitment to the practice and to myself, to my healing. It’s about patience, trust and the ability to recognize when it’s time to challenge ourselves and when we need to pull back. It’s about the acceptance, self-love and the letting go of ego, which can be so destructive in our lives.

Having worked in Rehabilitation for so many years, I’ve seen countless people push their way back into a job that only further aggravated the injury they had – physically and emotionally. Placing unrealistic demands on themselves, comparing themselves to their colleagues and expecting they can push aside, or numb with drugs, the issues at hand. The reality is, when we are recovering from an injury or illness, or just learning something new, we need to allow ourselves the time to heal. To learn or relearn. And this all comes down to acceptance. Acceptance of the path you’re on, where you’re at on that path and the process you need to work through in order to continue moving forward. Do not underestimate the value and importance of taking one step at a time. These little steps, little wins, will not only make a big difference from a physical perspective, but it will also shape the person you are and are becoming.

Sending big hugs,

Yoga is not for everyone. It’s not. In a society that can leave people feeling somewhat inadequate if they don’t join the ‘yoga trend’, so to speak, I want people to know it is OK if yoga isn’t for you. It took me YEARS to feel connected with this practice, and even now I have days when I want to crawl back under the sheets and press the snooze button rather than get up for my practice.

I began yoga a number of years ago in a desperate attempt to naturally manage stress and alleviate chronic lower back pain. I’d tried running, the whole gym junkie lifestyle (thank goodness that chapter of my life is over), change of diet. I even took up dancing! …You should know I don’t have a rhythmic bone in my body. Hello murder on the dance floor!

Yoga has profound benefits for the body – in every possible way. There is no question yoga is one of the most holistic practices out there that can fully support a healthier, happier lifestyle (whatever that may mean for you). So in my case, knowing this I wanted to try yoga in pursuit of my healthier, happier lifestyle. So off, yoga mat in hand, to my first yoga class.

As desperately as I wanted to walk away from the class feeling like some enlightened being, which all the studio flyers promise, truth is – I was in pain, I felt embarrassed and my stress had somewhat increased from before I walked into the class. I felt a little betrayed by the practice as I had expected to be shown the door to a completely stress free life and without pain. How very wrong I was..

I kept up with my classes despite the struggle and frustration with the practice, as I knew there were many benefits associated with yoga and so I was determined to stick with it.

Moving from studio to studio, as my partner and I moved houses many times, I never felt truly connected to yoga. I felt I was trying to force myself to ‘be’ or ‘look’ a certain way. And sometimes felt like it made me feel a little too entitled. Now that I was a “Yogi”, I wondered if I had the magical yoga aura floating around me which made me a little more self aware than the average person sitting next to me in the local café. In a world where the bandwagon of yogis are considered the trendy people, I wondered if defining myself as a yoga practitioner would somehow make my life better and that I was one of the more aware people out there.

The reality is – that is all bullshit.

Yoga is not an elite practice and it won’t leave us feeling as though life is perfect or without suffering. It can’t. Rather, what I’ve learned over MANY years of self development combined with my journey with this practice, is that the opposite is true. Yoga will be all revealing of some of the uglier parts of self – and to be clear, I’m not talking physical. Yoga forces us to take a BIG step back and actually re-evaluate our lives and the choices we make daily which determine the people we are and are becoming. And to be frank, this process, this confronting experience, is not for everyone. A person needs to be open to what this practice could reveal – both good and bad – and have the courage to sit with that. To accept what they uncover and then choose how they want to address what they find.

I’m generally a kind person, a gentle person; and it tears me apart to see suffering in this world. But I can also be a very selfish, grumpy shit at times too. My partner will attest to that. Would I have acknowledged this about myself 10 years ago? Hell no! But what I know now, is there is so much freedom in being able to see ones’ faults because the beautiful part is, I know I can change them and continually work toward being better.

I would love to hear your experience with this practice. What has it uncovered for you? How do you feel this has changed your life? And what advice would you give those people who want to try yoga but are nervous about starting?

Sending big hugs to all my favourite, real yogis out there,

I’ve fallen many times. I want to avoid using the term failure as I believe there are no true failures out there, only lessons. Hence I am the first to admit there have been countless times in my life where I’ve made a decision and completely stuffed something up! From relationships, to career choices to restaurants for dinner – I am the Queen of Making Mistakes! But there is one area of my life, at this present moment, where I can quite confidently say I’ve not made a mistake, and that is with our team of teachers at our studio, Jessica Dewar Yoga.

It’s not often one can open a business only to leave three months later and have it still operate in your absence. But with the support of my team, this was not only possible, but it was almost too easy.

My teachers – Nat, Claire, Ruhee, Laura, Ann, Alba and Charlotte – have been nothing short of outstanding. As many of you yogis out there would know, the December/January period is generally a quieter time of year and as such many studio close. However not at Jessica Dewar Yoga. With such committed teachers backing our philosophy, we were all determined to stick to our commitment of making yoga accessible and continue classes during this time. And whilst there are many administrative processes that I (now) know needed to be done to prepare for this period, together we made this work.

Whilst I was in India I received multiple emails from students thanking me for the studio we are building, for the safe space we have created. Whilst it is so wonderful to receive these emails, the people they are really thanking are our teachers for without them none of this would be possible. (And I ask, if ever someone has feedback about a specific teacher, please do share it with me as I will always forward this on.)

Upon my return home, I found our gorgeous little space looking as perfect as when I left it. Our workshops have been booking out and classes are continuing to grow – all through word of mouth. And I know this is all thanks to the outstanding work these teachers put into our studio. Our goal is to provide the highest quality yoga to you all, and it appears these incredible ladies are doing just that.

To have teachers who care so deeply about a vision, a dream to share yoga with all, as the teachers at Jessica Dewar Yoga do, is rare. And I feel so proud to have these seven wonderful women leading our classes.

To see when our lovely teachers are next in the studio, head to jessicadewaryoga.com and book your next class. I know I speak on behalf of all the teachers when I say how honoured we feel to be invited to share this journey with you. To hold you when you need to be held, to challenge you when you need the extra push. A truly profound gift.

Thank you again Nat, Claire, Ruhee, Laura, Ann, Alba and Charlotte. You’re gentle, humble and kind hearts are truly valued by all, especially me.

Sending hugs (from Melbourne now – I’m back!),

This morning was one of my strongest practices for this month. It appears my back is beginning to settle down which is a huge relief. Whilst I feel, in part, disappointed my back gave me so much grief this month, I’m actually really grateful for this experience. In this mornings practice, I realized I had a control over my body that I’ve not experienced before. Guruji noticed this also. I had an awareness of the subtle sensations I’m unconsciously too lazy to notice at other times. How I lower into chaturanga, how I transition between jump throughs and jump backs – it’s all changed. And this is only because the pain has been so bad that unless I consciously activated every muscle in my body, especially my pelvic floor, then I was unable to move at all.

Sitting with Guruji on the floor, he would remind me that pain and injury only come due to a weak pelvic and abdominal contraction. He assured that upon learning how to maintain the simultaneous control on these parts of my body that the entire neuromuscular system would relax. That there would be no pain. And he was right. Every day I have worked hard to develop this strength, but more so my conscious awareness of these parts of my body, and this has been an immense challenge. But the fascinating thing is, now my back is stronger and the pain is subsiding, I realize my practice has become stronger, more focused, more controlled than ever before.

It is very easy as a teacher to give advice. To assure others that they can achieve great things, or overcome difficult times. But I believe this advice is of little value or bears little weight if it comes from a person who has not faced the challenges themselves. I’ve cried many times in the past month – pain related mostly. Even the fetal position became near impossible for me to manage. This doesn’t happen often, but it does happen at times. A fluctuation as Guruji would say. And although it is not fun to feel pain, it is a lesson. A lesson I can pass onto others, where I can teach from this place of understanding. As we advance in our practice, we tend to forget what it’s like to be a beginner. To feel tightness, weakness, anguish. So I feel at ease with the month I’ve had here. I’ve not a missed a class as I needed to learn how to work with my body despite it’s temporary limitations. And I assure, all limitations we face are only temporary.

I fly home this Sunday and am so looking forward to seeing all my wonderful students. I have a Beginner Workshop commencing on the 1st of February that I cannot wait to get started with, particularly considering my very humbled way of practicing. An opportunity to meet people where they are and support them as they venture into this profound practice of yoga.

There is so much beauty in our imperfections. And whilst they can be extremely frustrating and upsetting at times, the reality is – they are what they are and we need to come to a place of acceptance. From here, life is brighter and more hopeful. If we dwell, then the opposite is true also.

So I urge you, if you are new to yoga or if you have an injury or illness you feel is holding you back, take a step forward. Don’t give up on your body and don’t allow illness to keep you from where you dream to be. How you dream to move. How you want to live.

Sending hugs to you all,

Jessica xx

Do you know what it feels like to be trapped in your own body? How toxic it can be at times? How hopeless?

This past month has been such an immense challenge for me. The bar has been set higher, mostly in my own mind, which is intense. Choosing not to be a victim to my pain can be a catch-22. Sure it means I go on and challenge self-limiting thoughts, feelings and behaviours. But it can also mean I push too hard too soon. This past month has forced me to take a BIG step back and re-evaluate my boundaries. My personal limits. And more importantly, my ego. I have days when I feel I could run a marathon and my body can fly. The difficulty lies in not taking advantage of those days. Not trying to rush to the finish line just because it is in sight. For it is when I do this that I end up right back near the beginning again.

I have great flexibility in my body but not enough strength, pelvic floor strength especially. This means I am susceptible to injury if I’m not careful. I’ve spent these past two weeks taking it very easy as my back had completely given up. Just the slightest fold forward gave the sensation of a thousand knives stabbing into my lower back and left leg. It’s been confronting, upsetting and to some degree embarrassing. Feeling so trapped in my own body. Like there is a lock that is firmly fastened and holding me back. The moment I try to fold I’m jolted back just as a car seatbelt locks if it’s pulled too quickly.

Yesterday was a wonderful day. I felt amazing. Everything had relaxed, pain still there but a 4/10 compared with the 9/10 it has been this past week. So what does Jessica do? Well, I practice without boundaries, without limitations, only to clearly cross a threshold without realizing and end up virtually crippled again today. Whilst I want to cry – and I did for a brief moment – I always look for the lessons in these experiences. The pain hurts, but it’s the restriction of movement which hurts me more and can be so frustrating. But I need to accept this. I need to accept that these are all lessons, progressions in themselves. That mentally I am becoming stronger, more aware, more accepting. I’m learning limits by pushing them a little. Clearly a little too much in this case. We train for four hours a day six days a week and I’ve not missed a single practice because I will not give up on me. The challenge is not in the hours of practice, but in knowing when to pull back.

But whilst I can lay here typing away and say it’s good to be positive about the challenges in life – whether that be pain, heartbreak, loss, anything at all – the fact of the matter is, it’s still shit. I don’t enjoy pain. I don’t want to be like this, to be limited like this. To be trapped in my body as I am. But the thing is, I don’t have a lot of choice. I need to work with my body as it is. Through this trial and error I will learn how to strengthen my back, how to maintain a normal life regardless of pain and how to help others through my personal experience. If I don’t, then life stands still and that’s not much of a life.

So to those who feel pain – any pain – play with it. Challenge it. Learn to trust it. For it is when we can accept and observe pain in this way that we can work with it, heal from it and keep moving forward.

Sending big hugs,

I’ve been back in India for over a week now and I would be lying if I said this hasn’t been extremely challenging for me. On every possible level. Physically, emotionally, spiritually.

So many assume the trips to Mysore are holidays. I can assure you, this is far from a holiday. I’m someone who likes to be comfortable. I like my bed, I like my washing machine, my kitchen. I like the familiar. I’ve done a lot of overseas travel alone and it turns out I’m really just a quiet soul who likes the simple things in life. My home, my pooch and my man. Oh and of course, my students. Perfect! So coming to India each year is a real struggle for me. (or character building put in a more positive way!)

Coming to India, which is super uncomfortable for me, is my commitment to myself, to my practice, to the practice. I appreciate and accept that if I want to progress as both student and teacher then I must continue to invest in my learning.  My philosophy is - “who am I to teach if I do not maintain my self-practice and self-study?” So I journey back to India where I can continue this learning under the guidance of Guruji, a man whom I feel so privileged to learn from.

But none of this makes it any easier. My back is in agony as I write this. Nothing to do with my practice. More to do with the rock hard mattress I’m sleeping on. I spent yesterday trying to get rid of nine or more of the biggest cockroaches I’ve ever seen in my life! Other times it’s just a little lonely.. I have a wonderful life back home, with a partner I adore and students who I can’t wait to see every day – so it’s really tough leaving that behind to be in near solitude for a month.

However, as I step into the Shala every morning and afternoon, I am reminded of why I come here. Every moment in the Shala is precious. Looking around the room this morning, listening to the subtle sounds of others as we all practice in silence; I was moved by the intense focus, discipline and commitment of every person in there. Everyone working at their own pace, challenging themselves a little more, pushing on despite how tired we all are.

There is nothing fancy about where we train. A simple room with bars on the windows and nothing to be heard except the breath, groans and snorts of other students. If you ask any Ashtanga practitioner who comes to Mysore to train, they will often say they come here for the same reason – the energy of the room. There is something so beautiful about how we as individuals, on our own unique journeys, unite when in the Shala. By hearing each other, by practicing beside one another, we are One.

It is this collective energy, this absolute devotion to the practice, and more so to ourselves, that draws students back each year. Certainly not the ease or glamour of India. It is having the eye of our teacher to help us see what we cannot that allows us to progress. It makes the difficulties of being away from loved ones or waking with a bad back worth it as there is something bigger going on here.

So, off I go to bed. Concrete slab and all. My back is paying for it but I shall maintain my practice. I will work with my body rather than give into it.

I miss home. I really do. But I know I will be home soon enough. So for now, I’m committing to being present, staying focused and appreciating the opportunity to continue my training.

Missing you all and sending hugs,

Jessica xx

Having completed the Intro to Yoga Program, you are now ready to build upon the basics and push the boundaries a little more as you step into the Level 1 Hatha Yoga Program.  This next 4 weeks will encompass a more advanced asana practice, introducing students to stronger inversions (including the preparatory steps for Sirsasana - headstand), arm balances, back bending and deep hip opening work. The perfect opportunity for students to deepen their personal practice in pursuit of a happier and healthier life.

Prerequisites: Students applying for the Level 1 Hatha Yoga: 4-Week Program should have completed the Beginners Yoga: 4-Week Intro Program here at Jessica Dewar Yoga.

Fee: $87