You Are Not Stuck Yoga
The world spins madly. Thank goodness for yoga.
Move. Breathe. Connect.
That’s the practice at its most simple.
Yoga is not doing fancy poses on the beach at sunset for Instagram. Rather, it’s about learning to feel and engage the joints, the muscles, the organs; to breathe in ways that focus, energize and soothe; to connect to the grace, wisdom, stillness and stardust that exist both within and around; and to set ourselves up to be on this planet for as long as possible.
That’s why I have been practicing yoga for nearly 25 years and teaching for about 20, everywhere from community centers and national yoga centers to corporate offices and individual clients’ homes. Since 2020, I’ve led online practices from my living room.
Whether you’re an experienced practitioner, stepping foot onto a mat for the first time or somewhere in between, I invite you to share practice with me. It’s intentional, enjoyable and modifiable for all levels. Drop in for a single class or choose a monthly membership. You are welcome anytime!
Live classes every Tuesday and Thursday. Recordings too!
Class Details
Live Classes
Recordings
Choose Your Practice Path
Your practice can be as flexible as you are. Whether you’re dropping in for a single class or making yoga a regular part of your routine, there’s an option that fits your schedule and style.
Single
Class
$24/class
Try it out, no strings attached. Perfect for dipping your toes in or catching class when your schedule allows.
Monthly
Membership
$108/mo.
Make yoga a consistent part of your week with two live classes, plus one recording to do later or again. Find your rhythm, practice on your schedule, and save some money.
Monthly
Deluxe
$129 / mo.
Your all-access pass to finding your flow, your way. Drop into any live class, access the full library of practices as they’re added, and discover meditations that help you feel centered on and off the mat.
Yoga Monthly Deluxe +
CIRCLE Combo
$149 / mo.
The best of both worlds, for less. Get unlimited yoga plus Becky’s weekly CIRCLE gatherings. Your space for both physical practice and soulful connection.
Remember, you don’t have to have your sh*t together to go to yoga; you go to yoga to get your sh*t together!
Pick Your Practice Time
Ready to move, breathe, and maybe get your sh*t together? Choose a class time that works for you. Whether you’re an early bird or catching a recorded session at midnight – there’s no wrong time to show up for yourself.
Let’s Talk Custom Practice
To inquire about individual and corporate sessions, please fill out this form and we will get back to you ASAP.
Becky’s online yoga classes saved my mind, body and spirit during the covid pandemic. As a former yoga teacher, I wasn’t sure how effective an online class would be, but Becky makes it work – with experience, compassion, and humor!
Susan Bryant
Fine Art Photographer
Becky offers the best online yoga class! Having live interaction with such an experienced, motivational instructor is a fantastic way to practice in my own home. I always leave looking forward to the next class!
Cathy R.
My first class with Becky was at Kripalu, and it turned me into a Becky devotee! Her online classes during the pandemic felt like ongoing nourishment during a drought of connection, movement and inner peace. The community is welcoming to all, no matter your experience, and Becky’s warmth and humor are so refreshing!
Robyn Vogel
Come Back to Love
In case you need the reminder today ✨ ... See MoreSee Less
There have been a lotttttt of dad jokes at my house lately. Thought I’d share my all-time fave.
Q: How do you think the unthinkable?
A: With an itheberg.
🤣🤣🤣
Ok, your turn!
#dadjokes ... See MoreSee Less
I JUST TURNED 50. NOW WHAT?!
A couple days before my recent birthday — the big one — my husband approached with an uncharacteristic seriousness: “Are you really okay with turning 50?”
“I mean, yeah,” I shrugged. “Can’t imagine it will feel much different than 49 and 365.”
The world, from the mailbox, begged to convince me otherwise.
First, an envelope from my mother: “Did you get your AARP card yet?” she winked. As if, I thought. I’m 50, not 65. Next, a message from a friend, suggesting it’s all downhill from here. Then, to my horror, an official-looking sleeve stamped “Notification of Member Benefits.” My invitation to join the venerable association of folks over 50 had indeed arrived.
I shot a wounded scowl at my husband. He grabbed his phone to capture the moment. “Priceless,” he chuckled.
And just like that, a new reality landed:
I am a quinquagenarian.
It’s hard to believe that vintage 1974 people been around for — or for only — half a century. Leonardo DiCaprio. Victoria Beckham. Derek Jeter. Sarah Paulson. Nearly the entire cast of Saved by the Bell. (Et tu, Kelly Kapowski?!)
Next calendar year, the babies born in 1975 who are still counting birthdays will join the club: Angelina Jolie. Tiger Woods. Kate Winslet. Chelsea Handler. 50 Cent. Dax Shepard. David Beckham.
Each of those people strikes me as older than I am, but math doesn’t lie. We’re all the same age as Blazing Saddles, as Jaws, as Stephen King’s first novel, Carrie. We were there when Nixon resigned and Saturday Night Live debuted; we pioneered Underoos and moved on up with The Jeffersons.
We Gen Xers remember vividly the years before televisions had remote controls and households had microwaves. Just kids then, we knew music before MTV and schools before mass shootings; watched government hearings about pubic hair on a Coke can and a stained blue dress in the White House; survived Y2K and 9/11. Now, as adults, we have T-shirts and children and stretch marks older than the iPhone. Our generation’s brains might be the only ones able to toggle seamlessly between analog and digital.
Newly minted 50-year-olds have spent five decades being innovative and resourceful and resilient and weird—and now we’re getting texts from CVS Pharmacy: “Let’s make a plan to get the Shingles vaccine.”
Shingles!
What a reminder of the way our 50-year-old bodies have changed, are changing, will change.
Age has speckled my arms brown and accordioned the skin of my decolletage. I can no longer see my eyebrows to pluck them. I get why old people wear readers on the tips of their (our?) noses. Smile lines have given way to the jaw of a marionette.
And, are those… jowls?
That’s just the part I see reflected in the mirror. Do not even get me started on the absolute atomic bomb that is perimenopause.
Despite the inarguable proof of midlife, I self-identify as cool — even if cool to me signals a serious lack of rizz to my teenage daughters. (It’s giving Grandma, they say to my no-show socks, outdated slang, and top sheet.) That may, in fact, be. But can Grandma Snapchat like this old bird?
Brené Brown described midlife as the time when “the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: ‘I’m not screwing around.’” Nor should it. Nor should we. As Andy Rooney noted, life is like a roll of toilet paper. “The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes.”
That’s why I’m viewing this time not as an end, but as the beginning of a beautiful reckoning — a stage of wild mental, emotional, and spiritual metamorphosis.
This moment of maturation offers the chance to reassess how best to allocate our most precious currencies — time, energy, attention, intention — and, in doing so, realign priorities with our values as they have evolved over time.
(Think of outgrowing a value the same way you outgrow a bra: first it fits, then it’s uncomfortable, suddenly you can’t breathe. What was designed to support now constricts. Trust me, you cannot live in a 32A when you’ve ripened into a 38DD.)
If we allow a graceful becoming in midlife, authenticity will flow more naturally.
Boundaries emerge more intuitively.
The insecurities and impetuousness of youth develop into steadiness, and we can find a sense of freedom from all the rules we have observed but did not write.
We can rebalance and repattern ourselves.
What’s more, we can unmuffle the voice of our souls and be who we are, truly, beneath the burdens of convention and Other People’s expectations.
The writer Anne Lamott put it best: “Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life — it has given me me.”
To celebrate the symbolic promise of 49 and 366 — which exists not just at 50 but every decade after, too — I am having some well-earned fun: I’m taking the tap class, never mind that my left foot won’t grasp the commands of rhythm. I’m getting (more) tattoos. I’m seeing myself with new eyes.
And, yes, I’ve gotten my shingles vaccine.
Thanks, life, for the official invitation. 🙏 ... See MoreSee Less