A student asked me why the closing sequence comes last, and I heard how much of what I knew was inheritance, not understanding. I could have written a post about it. Instead I built the map — 81 lessons, on a platform I own. The thing is the proof.
I learned to teach yoga long before I learned to make a living from it. So I built the business I wish someone had handed me — and then built the program that hands you the same playbook.
The values audit behind Foundations of Praxis: I kept teaching that beginners deserve to understand from day one — then I stopped talking about it and built the on-ramp. Designed sequence, guided audio, count videos, a Practice Recorder you own.
I ran a values audit on myself and didn’t like how cheap talk is. So instead of posting that practitioners should be able to practice alone, I built the tool that makes it possible — every pose, both sides, counted breath by breath, on a platform I own.
For years I mistook obedience for depth. The day I started reading my practice as a system instead of a set of instructions — and started instrumenting it like one — everything I’d called discipline turned out to be drift.
From chatrooms at thirteen to running a world in Ultima Online to building communities for companies — a life spent tending rooms online. Now I’m turning that instinct on my own data: pulling twenty years of my life off the platforms and onto ground I own, and building the habit of micro-journaling in my own garden instead of Meta’s.