My Vision

Wander often. W O N D E R always.

My teaching is rooted in the belief that the body is a primary gateway to awareness. Through embodied practice, we explore both movement and stillness as ways to listen deeply—to sensation, breath, and the subtle intelligence of the present moment.

I guide students toward greater ease in the body, clarity in the mind, and openness in the heart, inviting yoga to be lived rather than performed. Drawing from somatic inquiry, Tantric philosophy, and mindful movement, my classes support a felt understanding of the Self—not as a concept, but as a lived experience.

I view yoga as a shared journey of curiosity, presence, and service. My intention is to create spaces that are inclusive, sensitive, and grounded, where each person is supported in meeting themselves with honesty, compassion, and embodied awareness.

Inquiry and Inclusion: The Thread That Weaves It All.

These questions continually inspire my explorations in yoga, life, and teaching. Keeping the inquiry alive—on and off the mat, in my personal and professional life—is both my practice and my commitment.

I am a genuine believer in the power of communities of sharing.

Communities bring together people on similar paths. They help us grow, heal, and remember our shared heart.
I offer community classes wherever Yoga is least expected—free or donation‑based, often supporting humanitarian needs. Solidarity is at the core of my practice. It’s the best of what humans can offer one another. Without this spirit, there is no Yoga.

Yoga is not a workout or a pose. It is an inner practice—expanding how we feel, understand, and act. It reconnects us to consciousness and to the universal energy of Love. This is why you’ll see few asanas on my site. I focus on the inner experience of a posture, not the posture itself.

I’m not a full‑time Yoga teacher, and my classes aren’t fantasy yoga.
My Yoga is lived—joyful, messy, and deeply real, like life.

I am like most people—juggling passions, work, travel, and the uncomfortable truths of a world in crisis that can shake my balance. Yet I also witness the quiet miracles that keep my faith in Humanity alive.

Like you, I try to find steadiness. Some days I’m too tired to step on the mat before or after work. Like you, I age, and my body changes; some postures become unexpectedly difficult. Like you, I cry and despair—and like you, I dream, hope, and love. And still, like you, I choose to show up. On the mat most days. In my life every day. In doing so, I show up for Life itself.

This is the vision I hold for you, for me, for us: to show up—mat or no mat—with curiosity for this experience we call Life. Together, with softer hearts, we keep becoming.

Maeva