I became a yoga teacher after developing a huge yoga crush on my own first instructor. Only–I didn’t want to sleep with her. She was so sparkly that I actually wanted to be her! I didn’t mind having my hopes of becoming somebody else dashed because it turned out that yoga would make me a better version of myself instead.

I have always been a seeker. For years, I didn’t recognize myself as such but–sometimes consciously, sometimes unwittingly–I was searching for a way to live, a way that felt meaningful.  Maybe you know what I mean.

About ten years ago, in an enchanted cottage in Bristol, I finally stumbled onto what I’d been looking for—a teacher who felt like the real deal, a teacher from whom I wanted more than anything to learn. I tumbled down a yogic rabbit hole and everything changed. Feeling more lucky than smart, I had the good sense to park myself as close I could get, and soak up as much teaching as I could. Turned out, I made a pretty good sponge! I have never looked back.

Early on in my yogic education, I learned that loving life was a possibility, perhaps even the entire point of it all. It was daunting news because—while in theory I wanted to love my life–I didn’t. Not only did I not love my life, I could barely tolerate it. I was stuck and unhappy, and couldn’t fathom what to do about it. I had zero idea where—or how—to start.

I devoted the next decade—full time–to figuring it out. I had always been fascinated by the quick-silvery stuff of human consciousness, so becoming fascinated by yoga was a no-brainer. I was—and remain–a voracious student. By 2005, I was certified in the Anusara method.

My passion gave rise to a robust community, and I settled into a comfortable groove, continuing to gobble–and share—the practice that so enthralled me. Little did I know that the ideal conditions for evaluating its efficacy under duress were looming on my horizon. A perfect storm of chronic health problems, infertility, and depression was headed my way. While I had long struggled with periods of depression, this would be by far the darkest, most painful, period of my life.

The teachings I had devoted myself to were no less than a lifeline. I held on tight, and used them to haul myself out of a seemingly bottomless despondency. Emerging with a new understanding of my own resilience, I also discovered a visceral empathy for other people’s struggles and pain.

So, I committed myself to sharing what had been so invaluable to me with anyone who wanted it. I used all the tools at my disposal to create an environment in which students felt safe, and seen. I became more transparent in my teaching—sharing my own struggles to offer hope to those who were struggling. I used storytelling and myth, tantric philosophy, creative sequencing, and surgically precise alignment instruction to guide students in the discovery and experience of their own essential nature, and the wealth of innate wisdom residing there.

I discovered that by cultivating the courage to actually speak our most limiting thoughts and fears, disabling fears are often exposed as ludicrous. I put my silly and irreverent sense of humor to good use helping people disarm their demons by learning to lovingly laugh at them.

Several years ago, I was gifted a series of sessions with a life-coach. I confess that I had previously dismissed the entire profession as “made-up” and “bogus” but–since it was a gift–I gave it a chance. I saw actual results:  though I’d long ago abandoned my old dream of writing, I started writing again; I had difficult conversations that I would have previously avoided; I took greater responsibility for my own happiness; I allowed more love into my life, and my marriage improved. Basically—I began to actually love my life. Coaching brought me full circle right back to yoga. Now I was actually good at it.

Most yogis recognize the benefit of maintaining a steady practice, consistently, over long periods of time but are we so conditioned and committed to long-term results that we are unable to conceive of transformation happening in relatively short periods of time? That was exactly my experience. When I applied coaching tools directly to the areas of my least satisfaction, I saw results—almost immediately.

I fell hard for coaching for the exact same reason I fell in love with yoga:  it works. I’ve come to recognize coaching as a modern form of yoga—indeed, as 21^st century yoga. I believe that if the sages of the 11^th century had access to these tools, they would have been interested too. In typical ravenous fashion, I devoured entire coaching methods, and assimilated the very best strategies. My coaching philosophy is based on creating a safe space for clients to kindly dismantle their limiting beliefs, access their own innate wisdom, and take action.

For years, I have been offering spontaneous coaching to yogis after class, and through my blog. I have come to understand that my life’s mission lies in sharing the tools that have been so effective in my own life. I have officially thrown my hat into the life coaching ring and–true to form–am falling all over myself with geeky exuberance to share what I have learned with you. Stay tuned!

Bernadette is known for knowledge, authenticity, precise articulation, poetry, and humor. Her classes, immersions and trainings are steeped in a life-affirming philosophy that invites you into the exploration of your own potential. Bernadette was one of the earliest instructors in CT to be certified in the Anusara method. In Feb 2012, she resigned her license with Anusara.  She continues to mentor the local teaching community, lead trainings, and retreats.

She has contributed to Yoga Journal, Origin Magazine, Fit Yoga, Elephant Journal, Teachasana, and Srividyalaya Amrta.  She is also a lululemon ambassador, and the author of the quirky, award-winning blog www.berniebirney.com.