This Week Was Tough...

This Week Was Tough...

This week was tough.

Last Wednesday morning, while I was out in the garden preparing for the day ahead, I received a phone call from a lovely neighbour. With kindness in their voice, they told me they had found my little black cat on the road.

In that moment, everything stopped.

It was early morning, and as someone who is self-employed, life didn't pause. I still had classes to teach, people depending on me, and a day that needed to continue. I tried to keep going, but my mind was in a whirlwind.

I had to tell the Kids.

I had to collect her little body.

My little buddy... my Noodle.

Noodle followed me everywhere. She was the most vocal little cat. No matter where she was, she always made sure you knew she was there. She had a big personality packed into a tiny body.

One of her funny habits was walking right in front of me whenever I was rushing around. At the time, I would laugh, gently step around her, or wonder why she always chose that exact moment to slow me down.

Now, looking back, I wonder if she was teaching me something all along.

Slow down.

Take it all in.

Be present.

We spend so much of our lives hurrying to the next task, the next appointment, the next thing on our endless to-do list. Yet life has a way of reminding us—sometimes gently, and sometimes painfully—that this moment is all we truly have.

This week has reminded me how deeply we can love the animals who share our lives. They ask for so little, yet give us unconditional companionship, comfort, and joy. Their paw prints stay with us long after they are gone.

My heart is broken, and I know grief takes time. But I'm also incredibly grateful.

Grateful for every morning she greeted me.

Grateful for every loud meow.

Grateful for every time she made me stop, smile, and slow down.

Thank you, Noodle, for choosing our family.

Thank you for your love.

And thank you for the beautiful reminder to slow down, breathe deeply, and cherish the ordinary moments—because one day they become the memories we hold closest to our hearts.

Rest peacefully, my beautiful little shadow. You will always be loved, and you will never be forgotten.

Pause and Breathe: A Mother’s Reflection on Watching Her Children Grow.

Today, I realized something both simple and profound — I am officially the smallest person in my house. After twenty years, my children have all grown taller than me.

It’s a strange mix of emotions — pride, nostalgia, a little fear, and wonder. I find myself asking, “Is this going too fast? Have my four children really grown up before my eyes?”

Watching them become the men and women they are today fills me with pride. Yet it also reminds me how quickly time moves. From the day they were born until now, life has been a blur of school runs, dinners, laughter, and lessons. Somewhere in between, they grew — and so did I.

As I walk the fields on my morning walk, memories flood back — their first steps, their first smiles, that first freckle that made me laugh, the first wobbly tooth, the first day of school, and then the first day of secondary school. Now, it’s the first days of college.

When I look back, I realize I did pause sometimes — I did take those moments in. But today is another reminder to keep doing that. To slow down, to breathe, to notice where I am and who I’ve become alongside them.

Today, my mantra is simple: pause and breathe.

Because these moments — the ones that slip by quietly while we rush around — are the ones we’ll want to hold onto most.

Colette xx

Why i don't take pictures of my Students-and still share my yoga classes Authentically.

In today’s world, everything seems to be photographed, posted, and shared — even our most peaceful spaces. As a yoga teacher, I’m often told, “You should take pictures of your classes! It’s great for advertising.”

But for me, that’s a NO.

When I attend a yoga class myself, I see it as a safe space — a place to disconnect, breathe, and just be. I know how uncomfortable it can feel to have a camera pointed at you when you’re trying to relax or move through a vulnerable pose. That’s why I made a conscious decision: I never take pictures of my students during class.

My yoga space is about trust, presence, and personal connection — not performance or perfect poses for social media.

Still, I understand the question: “How can you show what your classes are like?”

There are many ways to share the energy and community of your studio without compromising privacy or comfort:

Use empty-room shots. Capture your serene space before or after class — the mats, the soft lighting, the calm vibe.

Take pictures of props, plants, or your teaching setup. These small details often tell a bigger story about your teaching style and atmosphere.

Share your own practice. You can model poses or moments of mindfulness yourself — this still gives people a sense of your approach.

Ask for consent-based participation. Occasionally, students may volunteer to be in photos, especially for special workshops. Always get written consent and make it optional.

Let words and testimonials do the talking. A few heartfelt lines from your students about how they feel after class can speak louder than any photo.

For me, yoga is about presence — not pictures.

If I can create a space where people feel safe, seen, and free to be themselves, that’s the best kind of marketing there is.

Big Hugs

Colette xx