Yoga Is Not a Business Plan

Lately, a few people have asked John and me why we’ve decided to invest into renovating our yoga shala. Would it bring us more revenue? Honestly... I don’t think so.

For many, yoga has become a career strategy. Something that can be packaged, marketed, and sold. In the past decades, the practice has been widely misunderstood, and the growing number of “teachers” who — in the higher standards of Indian yoga — wouldn’t even be considered dedicated s■dhakas (spiritual practitioners) has been worryingly increasing.

But yoga is not, and has never been, a business.

My Shala Is My Temple

Yes, I’m a householder. Yes, I’m a mother. I have bills to pay and a family to support. And to be completely honest, sometimes what we earn is barely enough.

But my shala is my space of prayer. It’s where my Sadhana lives. Whether one student comes... or fifty... it doesn’t change how much I believe in and care for this space.

This is where I pour my devotion. If others choose to learn and grow alongside me, I am grateful to share. If not, there are many other places where they can spend their time.

Being a Yoga Teacher Is Not a Career — It’s a Dharma

Teaching yoga is a unique path. It’s not about navigating a business. It’s not about profit margins. It’s not even about being liked or followed.

It is, however, a path of dharma — a calling that requires courage, consistency, and humility.

It’s almost heartbreaking that we even have to charge for teaching. But in a place as expensive as Singapore, we simply wouldn’t be able to continue sharing without doing so. That’s the paradox of being a modern teacher living in a material world while walking a spiritual path.

Some may come after us with stronger financial backing. But does that mean they carry deeper stories to share? Greater wisdom to pass on? Not necessarily.

Pouring Into Upside-Down Cups

Being a yoga teacher often means pouring into cups that aren’t just empty — they’re upside down and tightly closed.

But we still pour. With love. With patience. With dedication. Because the act of pouring itself is part of the practice.

When people ask me why I became a teacher, I say this: Because my sadhana felt incomplete if I kept the magic to myself.

Teaching is my way of completing the circle of practice — sharing what was given to me with devotion and respect.

The Path of Growth Is Often Quiet

I consider myself deeply lucky to have found a partner who shares my vision and values. I could have chosen differently — to chase financial security over spiritual growth. But I didn’t.

True growth doesn’t happen under the spotlight. It happens in silence. It happens in the moments of rejection, in closed doors, in the quiet places where nobody sees us. That’s where we meet ourselves most honestly.

Don’t Write a Business Plan. Pack a Bag to India Instead.

Being a yoga teacher is not for everyone. It should never be a mainstream job option for those who’ve simply memorized a few lines of the Yoga Sutras or learned to guide a handful of asanas.

Before drafting a business plan, book a one-way ticket to India. Spend time in silence. Live in an authentic ashram. Give up the comforts of your daily life for a while. Be humble. Let the practice strip away your ego, not feed it.

Then — maybe — you’ll be ready to share yoga. Not as a product, but as a way of life.

With love and respect for the practice,

Marta