Your journey awaits, yogi. There it is, occupying your brain. It’s enchanting, illusive and wistful, but oh the commitment of an intensive 300-hour yoga teacher training.

Immersing myself in yoga for five weeks seemed a simple choice when I graduated from my initial, fully remote teacher

Photos courtesy of Cabrini Klepper.

training. Whilst trapped indoors, amid covid chaos, I only dreamed of a designated time dedicated to my favorite topic somewhere in a tropical paradise. Yoga birthed a profound passion aligning with how I viewed life. One day, I knew I wanted to view more of life, and the world, and experience the unique evolution of yoga within what only a five-week yoga training could provide. The conception of this moment began four years ago, and I am here to share its fruits. 

Oddly enough, I never felt nervous. I flew through Kuwait, then to Bangkok, and arrived in Koh Samui, Thailand. All the while, a surreal calm settled within my subconscious. Life events seemed to stack up to this moment, and intuitively I knew I stood exactly where I needed to be. Call it divine timing, or a dream come true, but everything felt right. When the plane landed at my final destination, I wandered out of the small outdoor airport in a haze and smiled widely upon seeing my designated driver. My chariot awaited, and it screamed my name loudly, I’d be a fool not to go.

The first week enveloped me in an unfamiliar embrace, like the hug of a good samaritan stranger who sees you’re sad. I witnessed the welcoming energy from all the instructors and fifty students, and I grew excited at the evidence of like-minded people gathering together, but I still didn’t know a soul there. When our schedule was posted, I remember slight innervations of nervousness circulating in my mind. For five weeks, nearly twelve-hour days, six days a week, daunted me. Ambiguous terms like higher yoga, the evolution of yoga and “experience” peppered in between allotted times of anatomy, sequencing and teacher development.

At dinner, though, I realized many yogis shared my sentiments, and it was as if the stranger hugged me again. Evolutionarily, humans fear the unknown for the sake of survival. Anxiety is required to enact an educated action. Our evolved brains don’t understand they’re safe just by way of us telling them, they need to feel it.

Of course, our three-hour morning practice eased most mental tension and comforted me by bringing familiarity. I also learned to embrace the strange and obscure when it arrived accompanied by authenticity and warmth.

As time turned to the second week, loneliness dissipated. I naturally befriended practically everyone there. Not only were my peers, my instructors and the staff my new friends but so were the ocean waves, swaying palms and the beaming sunshine. People began to sink steadier into the routine as any lingering jet lag percolated away in the hot, humid air. During our day of rest, Sunday, the yogis adventured around the local town. I think adventuring out only to return made it feel much more like home — the place you reside and return to. The lesson I took away from week two: you are your home. Wherever you go, there you are, and there you can return to. Each morning, I meditated for up to three hours (if you count breathwork and moving meditation) in the Black Lotus Sala overlooking the sea, and I felt at home.

Trials and tribulations diffused into week three. By now, we were teaching each other sequences and learning advanced adjustments. An intense, traumatic thing happened at home while I was away, but I still decided to stay. What I will say is the energetic spread I experienced radiated through my being in response. I took solace in one of the yogis on staff, and before I knew it, I could feel the instructors and teacher assistants glowing with glittering positivity whenever I went around them. Later on, I approached the same yogi and told her I could feel their energy and didn’t think I imagined it.

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“We’re sending you loving energy all the time — even when you aren’t physically present,” she elaborated without hesitation.

It truly is a beautiful thing to feel fully held and fully accepted by a community. I’ll never forget that feeling of sitting in sadness while still knowing the genuine care of others surrounded me. It taught me that when love is present, you are never truly alone.

As the fourth week greeted us, the group’s spirit seemed to stagnate but not necessarily lower. This week taught me perseverance and the power of routine in something you love. Every morning, I’d awake at five-thirty for our three-hour practice. Sometimes, I’d wake up with the overwhelming urge to skip and sleep in, but I never did, and thank goodness I didn’t. That practice grounded, stabilized and energized me more than sleeping in ever would. If we always act on how we feel, we likely won’t get very far in life. The momentum of continuing to do something because we know the result outweighs all else is where the magic happens.

Finally, the fifth week represented the seed of new beginnings blooming into the flower of accomplishment. However, it wasn’t the certification that changed me, it was the journey to it. Two months after the training, I am still forever changed, and I think it’s because I enjoyed most of the journey. I perceived the power of progression when working towards a passion. Likely, what you want aligns more authentically with you when you do enjoy the journey, otherwise, why are you doing it?

Cabrini Klepper

Yogi, Yoga Teacher + Writer

@yogawithcabrini