It was April 2025. My winter season in Zermatt had just ended. I spent months skiing, enjoying the mountain air, and trying out new things. Because I was in my gap year between my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, I had something rare: free time.
I wasn’t sure what to do with it.
I started browsing yoga retreats the way you do when you’re not really looking for anything specific. Just scrolling, clicking, opening tabs. Bali kept coming up. Everyone goes to Bali. And then somewhere between one tab and the next, I stumbled onto something different: a full 200-hour Yoga Teacher Training in Rishikesh, India. Same price as some retreats in Bali, but one full month. And at the end of it, an actual certification.
“That’s what I need,” I thought. One month of discipline, structure, and physical challenge. And who knows, a yoga teacher certification is never a bad thing to have in your pocket.
I didn’t overthink it. I booked it.
Landing in India
I had lived in Peru for a year. I knew what it felt like to land somewhere loud and overwhelming and completely different from everything you grew up with.
Still, on my very first day, I got scammed. A travel agency sold me train tickets for double the real price. Classic. First, I felt sad, but later on I laughed it off.
However, I made my way to Tapovan, the neighbourhood in Rishikesh where my school was based. It had a gentle hippie energy — small cafés, yoga shalas, cows everywhere, people walking, and everyone smiling. It just felt like a place I was supposed to be.
At the opening ceremony, our guru said something I still think about: “In Rishikesh, you don’t have to be shy. You can do whatever you like without being judged.” I took that with me. And I still carry it everywhere.
What a Day Actually Looked Like
If you’re imagining a month of gentle stretching and journaling, let me correct that image immediately. We woke up at 5:30 am. Every single day, except Sundays. By 5:50, we were on our mats for Hatha yoga. Then Pranayama, breakfast, Ayurveda, Anatomy, Alignment, lunch, Philosophy, Ashtanga, Meditation, dinner, and lights out around 10 pm. Repeat.
It was full. It was structured.
It was exactly what I had asked for.
The subjects that surprised me most were Philosophy and Ayurveda. I came mostly for the physical practice. I hadn’t expected to care so much about the theory. But sitting with these ancient ideas about the mind, the body, how we live, what we put into ourselves and why – it started to rearrange something in my thinking quietly.
On our free days, we chased sunrise at Kunjapuri temple, visited the famous Ganga Aarti ceremony, went to the local market, ate the best mango lassi I’ve ever had, wandered through temples, dipped in Ganga, and ate incredible vegetarian food. Rishikesh has a way of filling every hour.
The Closing Ceremony
On the last day, we sat together and one by one, we spoke about what the month had meant to us.
I was nervous to speak. That kind of vulnerable, in-front-of-everyone nervousness that doesn’t go away just because you know the people in the room. But I talked. About my random journey. About what I’d learned. About what had shifted. Because something has.
Before Rishikesh, I had applied to a Master’s in International Management program. The kind of degree you get when you want to climb a corporate ladder, become an international manager, and build a respectable CV. I’d had the interview. I hadn’t got in.
At the time, I didn’t understand why. But during that month in India, I started to.
I actually never wanted the ladder. I wanted to build something of my own, something that connected the things I actually loved. Yoga had made that clearer than anything else. And the fact that I’d been accepted to a Master’s in Online Business and Marketing instead of International Management started to feel less like a rejection and more like a redirect. That realisation is what eventually led to Waves & Within — read the full story here.
“Everything had happened for a reason.”
So, and like this, I became a yoga teacher. I walked away certified, proud, and a little heartbroken that it was over, that these people I’d grown so close to in four weeks were now heading in thirty different directions. The community was the unexpected part, the part I hadn’t planned for.
If someone had told me in Zermatt that one booking would change the direction of my life, I probably would not have believed it.
But that’s the thing about saying yes to something without a plan.
Sometimes the plan finds you.
Curious about yoga teacher training in Rishikesh or group retreats?
Feel free to reach out. I’m always happy to share more 🙂
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