My commitment to myself is unbreakable

How Tennis Taught Me Resilience and Yoga Became My Lifelong Practice

In high school tennis, I was the backboard.
Not flashy. Not powerful. But relentless.

I could return almost any shot. Sometimes it was a clean winner, but more often it was an awkward lob, a scrappy dink, or a desperate save that just cleared the net. I chased down every ball. I hustled for every point. I never gave up, no matter how far away the ball seemed.

There was one match I will never forget. I had a rally that lasted nearly twenty minutes. The sun was blazing down, my shirt was sticking to my back, and my legs felt like they might give out at any moment. But I stayed in it. Back and forth, over and over, each shot an act of pure determination. My opponent started sighing in frustration. I could hear the squeak of her shoes getting sharper, her steps heavier. Eventually, she made a mistake and sent the ball out. That one point felt like a victory in itself.

That was my game. Hold steady. Keep the ball in play. Outlast the storm.

But over time, my competitors got stronger (one went to Bollettieri camp for the summer and came back to cream me). They could hit harder and faster. Their serves had more spin. Their shots had more pace. I could not return every ball anymore, no matter how much I willed my legs to move. My body was not invincible, and my backboard strategy had limits. I knew I would not have a college tennis career ahead of me.

What I did not know at the time was that another form of movement was waiting for me. Another kind of practice that would go beyond the court and become my lifelong anchor.

I found yoga when I was nineteen, and from the first time I stepped onto a mat, I knew it was different. This was not about beating an opponent or winning a point. It was about meeting myself exactly where I was.

It became the thing I kept coming back to, day after day. For over thirty years, I have been committed to my practice.

I have shown up for myself on the days when I felt completely lost. On the days when I was grieving. On the days when I did not want to move at all. On the days when the only reason I unrolled my mat was because I had to teach, even though I was silently going through one of the hardest seasons of my life.

There was a season when I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. My personal life was in chaos. I was a mother trying to keep everything together for my children. I was exhausted from the weight of it all, and there were days when I wanted to disappear.

But my work and my practice would not let me hide. I had to keep showing up. I had to step onto the mat, sometimes in front of a camera with thousands of people watching, and find my breath when I could barely find my footing.

I was not showing up because I felt strong or confident. I was showing up because I had made a commitment to myself long before that season arrived. The mat became the one place where I could remember who I was, even when everything else felt uncertain.

Here is the thing.
People can say what they want.
Life can shake you.
Circumstances can test you.

But if you have an unshakable commitment to your own growth, if you are willing to keep showing up not for applause and not for perfection but for integrity and inner peace, you win in the only way that truly matters.

One of my teachers often says, “Yoga is about integrating ourselves so we can live with integrity.” When we feel whole and organized, it is an incredible feeling. And that is the work. Not to be flawless, but to keep learning, evolving, and becoming someone you are proud to be.

I am flawed. I am human. I make mistakes. And I am also committed to transforming through them. I set challenges for myself not to prove anything to others, but to create a sense of purpose, accomplishment, and peace of mind that is just for me.

At the end of the day, my mantra is simple.

My commitment to myself is unbreakable.

My commitment to myself is unbreakable.

My commitment to myself is unbreakable.

Close your eyes. Follow your breath. Quietly repeat this mantra in your mind for five to ten minutes. Open your eyes. See how you feel.

I will be teaching at the Bryant Park Yoga Festival on August 20th in NYC, 6 PM. If you are in the area, please join me!

I will also be sharing exciting news soon and more updates on retreats and events this Fall.

Thank you for being here!