The Most Important Things I Learned at Yoga Teacher Training in Bali
Spending 200 hours in a yoga teacher training program in Bali, Indonesia might sound like a lot of downward dogs, sun salutations, and chanting. And yes, there was plenty of that.
But what truly surprised me about this three-week experience was how much deeper it went than just the physical practice. I had signed up expecting to perfect my poses and maybe teach a few classes someday.
Instead, I found myself unraveling layer after layer of personal insight, healing, and transformation.
It was as if each day cracked me open just a little more—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I was constantly having moments of clarity about my life, my relationships, my purpose, and the way I move through the world.
I realized quickly that yoga isn’t just about flexibility or fitness; it’s a way of living, of thinking, and of seeing. What I thought I knew about yoga was only scratching the surface.
This training shifted my entire perspective—not just on yoga, but on life itself. I walked away with lessons that feel deeply relevant to anyone, regardless of whether they practice yoga or not.
Some of these lessons are simple and grounding, while others have completely reshaped the way I travel, connect with others, and view the world around me.
So, if you’re curious about what I really learned during my time at yoga teacher training—beyond the asanas and anatomy lectures—keep reading. These are the takeaways that have stayed with me, long after I rolled up my mat in Bali.
Western Yoga Is Not Traditional Yoga
One of the most important—and eye-opening—lessons I learned during my training was this: Western yoga, for the most part, is not traditional yoga. As much as I wanted to believe that the yoga classes I had taken in the U.
S. and Europe were rooted in ancient practices, the truth is, they barely scratched the surface. Before arriving in Bali, I thought I had a pretty solid understanding of yoga. I’d taken plenty of classes, followed countless online flows, and learned bits and pieces from friends along the way.
But what I came to realize is that most people in the Western world, myself included, have only ever experienced a heavily diluted and commercialized version of what yoga truly is.
Think about all the variations that exist today—puppy yoga, hot yoga, paddleboard yoga, even yoga with weights. These trendy, hybrid classes may be fun or physically engaging, but they are far removed from the essence of yoga.
The moment you introduce an external distraction—whether it’s balancing on a paddleboard or petting a puppy—you shift the focus away from what yoga is meant to cultivate: presence, inner awareness, breath, and stillness of the mind.
Suddenly, it’s not about finding alignment within yourself; it’s about keeping your balance or entertaining your senses.
In the West, yoga has often been reduced to a fitness class—something to make you sweat, stretch you out, or help you achieve that Instagram-worthy headstand. But traditional yoga is so much more than that.
It’s not about how flexible you are, what brand of leggings you wear, or how many chaturangas you can flow through. It’s about living with intention, moving mindfully, and integrating the philosophy of yoga into your everyday life.
At its core, yoga is a path to union—of body, mind, and spirit. It’s a lifestyle rooted in discipline, surrender, awareness, and peace.
And while many Western yoga classes still include asanas (the physical postures), they often lack the structure and depth found in traditional lineages like Hatha, Ashtanga, or Vinyasa.
Instead, they’re usually a mix of whatever the teacher feels like offering that day—a bit of stretching, a few sun salutations, some upbeat music, maybe a quote at the end. It’s not wrong, but it’s not yoga in the traditional sense either.
This isn’t to say you should stop going to your favorite studio or ditch your local class. Some Western teachers do bring in authentic teachings and a more holistic approach.
But I think it’s important—especially if yoga is a meaningful part of your life—to pause and reflect on what you’re practicing, why you’re practicing it, and whether you’re open to learning more about where it came from. That awareness alone is powerful.
Honestly, it was tough for me at first. I felt a little defensive, even disappointed. But as my training went on, I began to feel grateful. Grateful to finally understand the roots of yoga. Grateful to witness its depth, beyond the poses.
And grateful to carry this new knowledge forward—not to judge others, but to deepen my own practice with humility, respect, and authenticity.
Next came a lesson so simple in theory, yet incredibly powerful in practice: the answer is always within.
I heard this phrase almost daily from my teachers. At first, I didn’t quite connect with it. It sounded vague—like something you’d see on a motivational poster but not actually live by. But the longer I stayed, the more I slowed down.
The more time I spent sitting with my thoughts, allowing myself the space to feel and process without distractions or external input, the more this idea began to click.
We’re conditioned to seek answers outside of ourselves. We turn to friends, teachers, the internet—anyone but ourselves—for validation, advice, and solutions. We want someone else to solve the problem for us, to tell us what to do.
Sometimes we even wait, passively hoping the answer will just fall into our laps. But we rarely give ourselves the chance to be still, to sit with the discomfort, the confusion, the uncertainty—and actually listen.
There were so many moments when I found myself caught in a spiral of overthinking. Sometimes the question was small; other times it felt big and overwhelming.
But in both cases, when I allowed myself to slow down and truly listen—not to others, but to my own inner voice—I discovered that the answer had been there all along. That quiet knowing, that inner clarity, it just needed space to rise to the surface.
I didn’t need someone else to hand me the solution. I just needed to trust myself enough to listen.
Love is Everywhere
Another simple yet transformative lesson came to me on the very first day. When I arrived at the training, we were asked to throw something into the universe—something we wanted to release—and to declare something we wished to carry with us.
Without hesitation, I chose to let go of the hatred I’d held toward myself. In its place, I chose to carry love—love for myself and for others.
That moment planted a seed. It made me realize just how much love is constantly around us, whether we see it or not.
I had spent so long being conditioned to focus on my flaws. I was my own harshest critic, always zeroing in on what I was doing wrong, how I looked, how I measured up.
That kind of thinking becomes a habit, and in doing so, I was shutting myself off—from self-love, and from the ability to fully receive love from others.
But something changed during those weeks of training. I found myself surrounded by the purest love I’d ever experienced. Twenty-five women, three teachers, and myself—coming together in vulnerability, acceptance, and deep care.
There was no judgment, no competition, no pressure to be anything but yourself. Just love. Real, raw, beautiful love.
You could feel it the moment you walked into the room—in the way we hugged, the way we held space for each other’s tears, in our laughter, in quiet moments of connection, in every shared breath on the mat. We didn’t just say we loved each other—we lived it.
And through that, I came to a powerful realization: if I don’t give myself the love I deserve, I’ll never truly be able to accept or recognize the love that surrounds me. We often block ourselves from love—not because it isn’t there, but because we haven’t yet allowed it to begin within.
The love we seek from others becomes so much easier to see, feel, and embrace when we first allow it to exist within ourselves.
Everything is connected, from the inside out.
One of the most eye-opening parts of my training was learning just how deeply connected our physical body is to every single aspect of our lives—our emotions, our thoughts, our habits, our healing.
As we studied physical anatomy and the philosophy of yoga, it quickly became clear that this wasn’t just about memorizing muscle groups or learning how to modify postures for injuries. It was so much deeper than that.
We explored the importance of balance—not just in the physical body, but in our nervous systems, our breath, our routines, and our energy.
We dove into the autonomic nervous system and how our daily choices—like what we eat, how we move, and how we respond to stress—either support or sabotage our well-being.
We learned about ayurveda—how our personalities and energies (our doshas) influence not only what we eat, but when and how we eat. We studied the chakras, the energy centers of the body, and how imbalances in these areas can manifest physically, emotionally, or energetically.
Through all of this, one truth kept surfacing: everything is connected. And often, we’ve drifted so far from that truth in our modern world.
We live in a society that’s quick to suppress symptoms, to reach for a pill, to search for a fix—but rarely do we pause to ask why the imbalance happened in the first place.
We use Western medicine and Western practices to patch up problems that, in many cases, were created by our own disconnection from nature, from our bodies, and from our inner knowing.
This training reminded me that so much healing happens when we return to the basics—to the breath, to natural movement, to whole foods, to honoring the body’s signals rather than overriding them. The human body is profoundly intelligent.
It already knows how to heal, how to balance, how to thrive. We just have to relearn how to listen.
When we reconnect with our physical body—not from a place of control or judgment, but from a place of curiosity and respect—we begin to unlock a more balanced, vibrant, and intuitive way of living.