My Story
I didn’t come to yoga to master handstands or perfect postures.
I came to yoga because I wanted to feel safe and at home in my body. A desire that began long before I ever stepped onto the mat.
I was ten years old when my world shifted and I lost all my hair to alopecia. At such a young age, and with such limited resources and information in my hometown of Anchorage, Alaska, it was a disorienting, confusing, and deeply lonely time. I didn’t have language for what I was going through, and I certainly didn’t see anyone around me who seemed to share my experience.
So, I put on a wig. I covered. I hid. I adapted. ..I learned to manage fear, to carry this secret quietly, to shape an entire identity around what helped me feel safe. Over time, that protection became a mask.
On the outside, I lived a very seemingly full life. I explored, and experimented, and dappled, and adventured, and learned, and kept a smile on my face. While on the inside, I was silently suffering; contracted under the fear of my secret, feeling like I was living this double life, and carrying more than anyone knew. Cravinggg truth. Craving courage. Craving liberation.
Holding that contrast was heavy and lonely. And, though – so sacred.
In that hidden space, something profound was forming. My journey with alopecia carved depth into me, built resilience, and cultivated a compassion that now lives at the core of how I teach and serve.
Somehow, Miraculously.. I was led to yoga.
For years, I practiced without fully understanding the depth of yoga’s teachings and traditions. I just knew that moving my body felt good. I would show up to the studio and go through the motions, but I was often lost in my own thoughts, feeling different from those around me. Sometimes I left class more exhausted than when I arrived, my fears amplified, my walls fortified. Flowing and sweating alongside others, while wearing a wig [and a baseball cap] can be deeply vulnerable.
In 2016, while residing in San Francisco, CA, two wildly life changing things happened. I brought my practice outside. And, I found Bhakti Yoga.
When I stepped beyond the four walls — where my thoughts felt loudest — and out into nature. Something softened. Something clicked. The inner voice of judgment quieted. The union yoga speaks of was no longer abstract. Nature made it obvious — tangible, undeniable.
The earth under my feet. The open expanse of sky. The wind kissing my skin, reminding me I’m alive! The hum of the trees. The ocean waves. All of the elements suddenly became an invitation into presence. A beckoning to come home.
The ecstasy of getting out of my mind and into my heart! Holy Holy.
Practicing outside awakened something profound and shifted the entire trajectory of my life. If I could have an experience as powerful as this, perhaps I could serve the invitation to others.
When it came time to deepen my practice and delve into the wisdom and teachings of Yoga, I was so beautifully encouraged by a few friends and teachers closest to me, to participate in a teacher training that happened to be rooted in Bhakti- the yoga of devotion and love. Talk about coming home!
For that last 10 years, I have studied in the Bay Area with extraordinary teachers like Stephanie Snyder, Janet Stone, Rusty Wells, Peter Walters, and Jack Kornfield. I also hold close—and resource often— the precious wisdom and words of beloveds, Trevor Hall, Mary Oliver, and Ram Dass.
Truth and Authenticity, became my highest prayer. My life’s work.
Yoga revealed itself to be so much more than just the movement (Asana) It is everything. It is always. It is a life of returning— to breath, to body, to what is true, to what is here.
The old story — the one that required hiding and performing — grew too heavy. Through practice and courageous self-inquiry, I began to set it down. I let my truth take up space. What once felt like something to conceal at all costs became the doorway to liberation — and my greatest teacher. In 2024, I took my wig off for good.
So when I offer an invitation into practice, it comes from lived experience. It comes from a lifelong quest for self love and acceptance. I now serve the things I craved the most.
I understand what it feels like to hide, to fear being seen, to doubt that your truth will be accepted or loved. We all carry some version of a mask — parts we guard, stories we’re afraid to release, things we carry alone.
Yoga is not about transcending what makes us exquisitely, uniquely human. It is about meeting this entire human experience with love.
My prayer for each of us is that we know self love intimately, May we dance in the miracle of being alive and embodied.
My Offerings
My offerings are an alchemy of everything I cherish: presence, breath, stillness, movement, chanting, music, dancing, play, Sangha, belonging, deep inner journeying, invitations home, and so much love! My offerings are celebrations of being alive!
I teach from trust, compassion, empathy, and resilience — from the deep knowing that your truth is not something to conceal. It is something sacred to be shared.
I believe we are all powered by something — the practices that beckon us back to breath, invite us home, and connect us with Source.
May we all be powered by practice. Imperfect and infinite.
And may we trust that this practice ripples out— through our thoughts, our words, and our actions; into our relationships and across our lives, in ways seen and unseen — softening edges, opening hearts, inspiring noticing, remembering, and returning.
It is the greatest honor and privilege to serve this work.
Thank you for being here.
Love, Kirin
May we trust that
this practice ripples out.
Stay Close
