Win a 200-hour Yoga Teacher Training Scholarship!

Yoga University

We want you to live the life of your dreams.
If yoga lights you up, spins you ’round and sets your soul on fire…
Then we’re excited to help you manifest your destiny.

The Juicy Deets

We know what it’s like to start out with nothing— so we’ve created a kickass scholarship fund to pay it forward.

Two (2) full 200-hr yoga teacher training scholarships (value $4420) are on the table:
Yoga University’s transformative Florida Weekend Course and Florida Immersion in Naples, USA.

Our scholarships include full tuition, rockin’ asana practices, daily satsangs, kirtans, yoga films, a comprehensive teaching
manual and a heart-opening experience of a lifetime. But seriously, it’s so much more than we could ever describe in words.

(FYI: We have a special place in our heart for ballsy go-getters.
So email us and ask about our student specials and work-trade programs,
or sign up here for contests, scholarship offers and sweet vacation deals!)

Step 1

Email your yoga story to yoga@sufey.org with “Yoga Scholarship!” in the subject line.

Please also include:

— a photo we can post online (bonus points for a yoga photo!)
— your name, age, phone number and home city

Step 2

Entry deadline is September 27, 2014.
(The earlier you apply, the better!)

To vote, click here!
Voting closes September 27, 2014.

Just do it. After all, what have you got to lose?

To catch a glimpse of what we do, check out this little video of our last teacher training.
We work (almost) as hard as we play. Much aloha!

Maui Yoga Teacher Training

yoga teacher training

Dear Universe: thank you for the love, light and joy that radiates from these beautiful new yoga teachers. I’m so proud to see this amazing group graduate from our 200-hr yoga teacher training. They’re off to spread their light to the world! Our … Continue reading

A Gift from Goddesses

Wow, wow, wow. I came home today to find a stamp-kissed package perched on my doorstep. SUFEY CHEN — it sang in big bold letters. BERGMAN — it was a love-box from darling miss wendy. Open me, it teased. I shrieked like a child on Christmas Day. … Continue reading

Adventure #5: Heather Jones

“You don’t need to be amazing. You don’t need to be not amazing. You just are.
You are, in and of yourself, worthwhile.”

Heather Dawn Jones (nicknamed “Noodle”)  |  Artist  |  31  |  Lookout Arts Quarry

I fell in love with Noodle the moment I saw her.

There was something about Noodle—
her bright turquoise cowboy boots,
her addictive, unscripted giggle,
her handwritten notes in big green print on pale pink paper—
that captured me instantly. Instantly.

I was at Creative Mornings with a dear friend, and Heather was giving a talk on Minimalism.
She spoke a rawness that blazed open my spirit— I listened, I connected, I lusted.
I didn’t realize it then, but she was a living possibility of what I could be.

I tackled her after her speech— I swooped down and hugged her and sing-songed:
“Will you go on a date with me?”

And thus began our adventures.

Decorating our brunch at Catch 122!

Noodle is the kind of person that gets better and better as you get to know her.
She also makes art of everything (like breakfast!)

She lavished my mind with stories of her journey, and my own forgotten dreams began to flutter alive.

Heather wanted to be an artist.
But the life of an artist, romantic as it sounds, is not one that comes easy.
She tree planted for six years and put all her earnings into the bank, keeping only $2000 to live off each year.
She would sweat and toil over the summer, then hibernate and create over the winter.
She found cheap art supplies— rocks, tin cans, broken chair legs— lived simply, and made her own clothes.

When she saved enough, Noodle and her friends pooled their money.
They bought 50 acres of land (previously an industrial rock quarry) near Bellingham, and dubbed it an art collective.
They live, breathe and create as circus performers, slackline walkers, visual artists, musicians… everything.

People go to lose themselves in nature and find themselves in art.

I was hooked.

Photo of Lookout Arts Quarry — Heather’s home!

Noodle was the living, breathing proof that people could manifest their own destiny.
She was so happy, so spirited, so generous, so free. She was everything I wanted to be.

“It’s one thing to make a beautiful art piece.
It’s another to create an environment that changes people.”

And that’s what Noodle does— she designs immersive art pieces: a place for transformation.

Like a 75-foot installation at the Vancouver International Children’s Festival,
where 4000 children wove recycled strips of fabric onto a gigantic dinosaur framework.

“From the outside, it was cool… but from the inside, it was a whole new world.
Kids were playing tag, whack-a-mole, crawling around, I’ve never seen so many kids laughing!”

Heather and her dinosaur from the Children’s Festival!

She reminisced about her own childhood, growing up with her cousins and neighbourhood kids.
“Once you know what that’s like [a connected collective], you’ll always be looking for it.”
And in Noodle’s case, creating it. Building it. Pouring her loving energy into it.

I could write a book about breakfast alone.

But soon we gathered up, biked our way to the Maker Faire and lost ourselves in a musical abyss.
We danced to fiddles, poked at glow-in-the-dark contraptions and surrendered to the midday sun.
We soon parted ways, and planned to meet up the next night.

But the next night, while she was biking up to my house with pho for dinner, I smashed my bike into a wall.

And this is where our friendship truly begins—
because that night, this beautiful, exquisite stranger, who I had known for just a day, saved me.

She mothered me, soothed me, and held my hand as I lay writhing in agony.
She comforted me, dressed me, and told me that I would be okay.
She took me to the hospital, talked for me, and stroked me till the wee hours of the night.
She gave me everything.

If I had been alone, I don’t know what I would have done.
I was in the kind of pain that makes a sane person irrational and crazy and reckless.
And she saved me.

That night, she was Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King, and every holy angel in the world to me.

I was grateful (though grateful is not strong enough of a word) to her then, and I will be always.

Because that night, I saw the sweetness of humanity in her eyes.
I tasted a radical, exhilarating love.
I felt kindness sweep up my soul,
gathering up all the cracked little pieces of me
and sewing me back together,
laboriously,
one soul-stitch by one.

I have a million words and no words left to say, but there is no need to describe a thing more.
I discovered a new language with Noodle, one that exists only in being.

 ॐ

Her affirmation from earlier that day echoed in my ears:
“I am worth loving.”

A Return to Love | 200-hr Yoga Teacher Training

The day I left the corporate world, a teaching opportunity manifested.

I said: I want to heal, travel, teach.

To touch and be touched, move and be moved.
To scrub mud on my body and joy on my soul.
To kiss the sweet earth and taste love on my lips.

I want to set my spirit alive.

He said: come to Maui, teach teachers, return to love.

And so it begins.

Here I Am

Two weeks ago, my life exploded before my eyes.

I lost control of my bike, smashed full-speed into a wall, and crumpled onto the street. I hit my vulva on the crossbar as I crashed, which led to an 8×8 cm hematoma on my right labia (as discovered later).

Pain crushed my body.
Terror choked my mind.

In that instant, I was desperate for life. Pitiful prayers to a higher power wrestled a wretched fear in my head. I’m not ready to go, I thought. Please. Let me do better.

The days that followed were a blur of hospital visits and severe anxiety. I lashed out emotionally. I was clouded with anger and a throbbing reminder of the things I was no longer capable of. Like sitting. Or peeing. Or fending for myself.

The doctors said it would take a few months to fully heal.
And thus began the longest vacation of my life.

I’m learning that life is never going to be comfortable. It’s not supposed to be easy. No matter how much we plan and prepare, there will always be challenges, roadblocks, ambushes and pitfalls.

You can fail even if you’re playing it safe.

So I say fuck it and follow bliss. Again and again. When I die, I want to be covered in dirt and scars and drenched in tears. I want to have traipsed the world and built an empire and watched it collapse and built another. I want to fight. I want to be worn, used and fully spent, consumed by the fires of a deep and blazing love. I want to say I’ve been true to my heart. I want to say I’ve given it my best shot. My all.

And so here I am.

Big changes are coming again.

This Training Will Rock Your World!

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This is different from anything you’ve ever done. Our teacher trainings are infused in spirit, heart-opening and radical transformation. We chant, flow and love. We dive deep into yoga philosophy. We study hard and play harder. We question our limitations, liberate … Continue reading

Adventure #4: Ty Heathcote

“We had the option to be inspired or threatened — and we both chose inspired.”

Ty Heathcote  |  Yoga Teacher  |  22  |  @typeacenlove  |  ty’s blog

I have a vivid recollection of the first time I saw Ty on stage.
She was 15 or 16, a tiny, fiery thing with a marvellous eloquence.

I remember thinking, quite smitten, “I want to be just like this girl one day.”
She went on to win debate provincials, place 1st in public speaking, and render the crowds speechless.

Not much has changed.

A week ago at Landmark, I felt a hand squeeze me from behind.
I looked over and gasped  it was Ty, the last person I would’ve expected to see.
We screamed, hugged, hugged a little more… It had been years since we last saw each other.

As it turns out, she moved from Kelowna to Victoria. Found the love of her life. Ditched competition for collaboration.
“Who would’ve imagined?!” She giggled  “Both of us little debaters as yoga teachers!”

The past few years had taught her a profound lesson.
After a rocky relationship, a year of journalism school and battles with severe anxiety, she hit her own rock bottom.
Her doctor prescribed pills. She flushed them and went to yoga class instead.

Soon after, she quit her job. Took a risk. Bought a flight to Bali. Immersed herself in yoga.
The Balinese men said: “Yoga girl, you walk too fast.”
And Ty realized: “I do — I need to slow down.”
And it was here that she began to heal.

She learned to let go. To breathe. To love.
And love flowed into her life.
(Funny how the Universe does that, eh?)

We strolled down the streets under a big blue sky.
She posed beside the tulips. Owen Wilson and his son whizzed by on bike.

“We’re just babies, you and me,” she said with a smile that could light up the sky.
“We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us.”