What Are You Doing Here? What SHALA Is and Why It Feels Different Here

lissa299
Jul 8
3 min read

I was asked to give a presentation this morning, after I gave it I realized some of you might like to hear the Why behind what we do here. The following is taken from what I said.

What Are You Doing Here? The Question That Started Everything

Years ago, just out of college, I was living in Los Angeles, working a regular job, going to the gym after work, doing all the normal things. One day, I passed a yoga class through the glass and thought, next time, I’m going to take that class.

So I did. I showed up, rolled out a mat, and the teacher looked right at me and said, “What are you doing here?”

Can you imagine?

But I stayed. And I’ve been doing yoga ever since. (No, I never went to that class again!)

I didn’t know what I was doing there that day. But I did know one thing: no one should ever feel that way when they walk into a yoga space.

That moment, awkward, unwelcoming, and frankly a little shocking, became a kind of vow for me. It shaped the way I practice and teach yoga to this day.

From Exclusion to Belonging: Building an Inclusive Yoga Practice

Over the years, as I moved from student to teacher, I kept noticing the subtle ways people are made to feel like they don’t belong in a yoga class. It's heard in the vibe, the pace, the cues and the expectations.

Too often, yoga is taught as though there’s only one right way to move, one right shape every body should make. But human bodies aren’t all built the same way. We carry different injuries, life experiences, histories. A pose that’s freeing for one person can be painful for another.

So I started asking, what would it look like to build a yoga practice where people feel welcome no matter what body they bring to the mat?

I found some great teachers and began to move my body and guide other people to move their bodies in natural rhythms that focus on ease. Which isn't to say this practice is always easy! Some days we go pretty hard but every body is welcome and it always feels good.

Why I Built SHALA: A Yoga Home in Lexington

That question is what gave rise to SHALA, our yoga practice in Lexington, KY. SHALA isn’t a typical studio. It’s not about getting bendy or burning calories. It’s not about performing “good yoga.”

It’s a yoga home, a place to return to again and again, with the same people, in the same room, for the same sort of practice.

At SHALA, people simply show up as they are. People leave halfway through sometimes. No one says “namaste” if it doesn’t feel authentic. It’s not performative. It’s not precious. It’s honest, and human, and warm.

And over time, something beautiful happened: people started showing up early, not to stretch, but to talk. They stayed late to share tea or dinner ideas. They began forming real relationships.

This in’t just a yoga class. It's a community.

Practicing Yoga Outside at Ashland: Simplicity, Rest, and Wildness

To deepen that connection to self and place, I started teaching free community yoga outdoors, under the trees at Ashland, The Henry Clay Estate. It’s one of the most loved yoga experiences in Lexington: no mirrors, no walls, just breath and birdsong.

When we move in nature, something changes. The body softens, the mind gets quiet and the distractions fall away.

People so often tell me, “I didn’t know how much I needed this.”And I always think, yes, you did. Your body did. Your brain just hadn’t realized yet.

The Rewilding Retreat: A Personal Reset in Eleuthera

That longing, for stillness, for wildness, for reconnection, inspired our Rewilding Retreat, a 6-day immersion held on Alabaster Beach in Eleuthera, Bahamas.

It’s yoga, yes, but also ocean bathing, star-gazing, hiking, silence, nourishing food, firelight conversations, and deep rest. You don’t have to be a yoga person. You just have to want to feel like yourself again.

Because what I’ve learned after all these years is that people don’t need more pressure to become better. They need permission to become more themselves. To find that sense of belonging in a community but also in their own bodies.

That’s what we’re offering at SHALA, at Ashland, and on retreats: a place to breathe; a place to move with ease; a place to belong.