Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth.
— Alan Watts

My Training

I completed my 200-hour teacher training in Sept. 2014 at The Studio D.C. under the guidance of beltway yoga stars Courtney DeRuiter and Christine Kontra. In the Fall of 2016 I completed a 30-hour alignment training with Ariele Foster. In the Fall of 2017 I studied with Mark Stephens for an additional 200 hours.

Today I have logged over 1,000 hours of teaching experience in spaces ranging from studios to corporate gyms, and in environments stretching from the tropical rainforest of Costa Rica to the wilderness of Nova Scotia. But while training and experience matter, I think my classes speak for themselves. I am dedicated to my students and to the art of teaching Yoga.

The learning never stops — I work daily to keep things fresh in the studio. My classes tend to fuse meditation and yogic philosophy with flow sequences ranging from gentle and slow, to heated and intense. I carefully sprinkle in other elements such as sound, lighting, and aroma to create original, unique and amorphous experiences on the mat.

But my dog Peaches is really the one running the show.

 "Davis and Peaches"  Photo via Rob Kunzig

"Davis and Peaches" Photo via Rob Kunzig

Where I Teach

Davis Burroughs is my favorite bedtime hero.
— Kyle Calian, middle eastern jew who can't be trusted (but he should be)

Before Yoga

Prior to teaching yoga full-time I worked as a policy journalist on Capitol Hill and as a paralegal for a boutique tax law firm. During my tenure in the realms of law and politics I acquiesced to high stress environments that bred high-strung personalities. 'Mindfulness' is not a word you hear often in the halls of Congress or in the Maryland Circuit Court. Smiles were equally hard to come by. 

It just wasn't for me,  so thanks to a little hard work, luck (and privilege) I went down the path of teaching yoga. I still work with the type-As, the non-smilers and the hyper-stressed folks every day — I live in Washington after all. But instead of engaging them on the surface I work to help them dive beneath the brain's neurotic chatter and, as Rumi put it, "bathe in the splendor of their own light."