Yoga has always been a part of my life in some way. As a child I used to imitate my Indian Dad’s idiosyncratic Yoga practice - morning headstands against the bathroom wall, sitting in lotus and random attempts at wheel pose. Meanwhile, my Welsh grandmother, on my Mum’s side, taught me breathing exercises, having learned some Yoga directly from B.K.S. Iyengar.

I grew up with aspects of Hindu culture woven into everyday life, and had some sense that Yoga belonged to a much bigger world of philosophy and spirituality, although I had little understanding of that world at the time. I knew Yoga first through the body: through shapes, breathing and imitation.

I came to Yoga seriously in my late teens, during a difficult period of my life. I was struggling with anxiety, depression, insomnia and addictive patterns. Watching my brother practising some Yoga poses after a trip to India, I was mesmerised by the sense of calm and presence he seemed to exude. I began practising every day, teaching myself from books and videos.

Yoga didn't fix everything, but it gave me a way of dropping into the present moment through the breathing, moving body, and helped me feel at home in my body again.

Over the years I explored different traditions, including Ashtanga, Iyengar and Sivananda, and spent extended periods in India studying Yoga and meditation and living and teaching in ashrams. For many years I was drawn to strong, dynamic practice and to the challenge and discipline it offered.

I loved this way of practising, but over time my body began to tell me that something needed to change.