The Radical Act of Doing Less

Am I lazy? Am I jeopardizing my own potential? Am I too idealistic?

These questions cross my mind now and then, but here’s what I’ve come to understand about myself: I prefer facilitating yoga in the mornings or early afternoons. I’m not an evening person. I do hold an evening class, and I love that class, but that’s enough. That’s my limit.

I’ve also chosen to teach only in my local area (BS3). This decision isn’t just about convenience—it’s about connection. It’s about feeling rooted in my community, building relationships, and embracing a sense of place. I want to be able to walk or cycle to my classes, to move at a pace that allows me to take in the world around me. Could I cycle across the city for another class? Sure. But do I want to? Not really.

Then there’s the way I structure my classes. I mostly teach small groups—eight people max. There’s something special about that intimacy, the ability to truly connect, to be present for each person in the room. I’m sure I could earn more by packing in bigger groups or taking on more sessions. I could reach more people, expand my offerings, and push myself harder. And I have nothing but respect for those who do.

But I’ve learned some things about myself along the way:

• I love having a strong sense of place.

• My evenings are sacred, and I want to keep them for myself.

• I give my best energy in the mornings.

• I thrive in small, intimate groups.

• I prefer to move through life slowly, to walk places, to take in what’s happening around me.

Maybe it was something about turning 40 that made me embrace these truths more fully. Maybe it was simply time.

And isn’t this what yoga is about? A practice of returning to yourself. Stripping away the external expectations of what you ‘should’ be, what you ‘should’ do, and instead listening to what truly aligns with you. Capitalism teaches us to always strive for more—more work, more productivity, more output—but yoga teaches us to be present, to slow down, to recognize that we are already enough.

There’s a radical act in choosing this path. In rejecting the idea that success is only measured by financial gain or growth. In prioritizing joy, presence, and connection over hustle and expansion. This is my way of living my yoga, not just on the mat, but in my choices, in my rhythms, in the way I hold space for myself and others.

Here’s the reminder I keep coming back to: You don’t have to constantly chase your potential. You don’t have to do more, offer more, give more. There’s a quiet power in choosing what truly aligns with you. And sometimes, that’s enough.