Intention and Impact
Intention and impact. They are not necessarily the same.
And that’s not always a bad thing.
My first yoga class was miserable. I absolutely hated it. Maybe I wasn’t ready. Maybe the style wasn’t a good fit for me at the time. Whatever the reason, I walked away pretty sure I would never do that again.
The joke is on me now that I’ve been teaching yoga for nine years. Looking back, I wish I had stayed with it just a little longer. Instead, it took me several years to try again.
When I finally did, yoga began as a physical practice for me, as it does for many people.
My intention was simple: stay healthy.
I had no idea how much the practice would eventually impact my life.
Back then, I often felt as though I were in a battle with my body—trying to make it stronger, always pushing myself to be more, to do more. I didn’t yet understand how much my body was already doing for me. I couldn’t see how much it was carrying for me, adapting for me, and trying to care for me. Over time, with consistent practice, something shifted.
Yoga became less about what I could make my body do and more about what I could learn by paying attention to it. The physical practice was still important, but yoga also became a powerful resource for my emotional and mental well-being.
Wanting to understand more, I completed my 200-hour teacher training at CorePower Yoga. That led to thousands of hours of training, practicing, studying, and teaching.
Now, I share what I’ve learned through both my training and my own experiences to help others develop greater confidence in their bodies and their capacity for change.
What do we mean by impact?
One definition of impact is the force of one thing coming into contact with another.
A bump. A hit. A collision.
But impact can also mean influence—the effect one thing has on another.
I find the contrast interesting.
One definition implies force.
The other doesn’t have to.
Think about the phrase “Brace for impact.”
It suggests preparing to resist. Protect. Tighten. Hold.
Our bodies can do something similar. The nervous system is constantly taking in information and responding based on what it senses, what it has experienced before, and what it predicts might happen next.
Sometimes that response is protective and useful.
Sometimes the protection sticks around longer than we need it.
We may grip, brace, avoid, compensate, or limit movement without consciously deciding to do any of those things.
When you become more aware of those signals—tension, sensation, breath, effort, emotion, even the urge to pull away—you have more information to work with.
Instead of immediately forcing your body to change, you can get curious.
What is my body responding to?
What support might it need?
What happens if I try something different?
That kind of attention can create another kind of impact—not force, but influence.
A movement practice can become an opportunity to show your system that there are other options. To explore support rather than bracing. To build capacity rather than simply push harder.
Over time, that can change your relationship with your body.
And that is part of my intention when I work with people: to help them become more connected to their bodies, more responsive to what they notice, and more confident in their capacity to adapt.
So, what is your intention?
In yoga, intention can be more than a goal or an objective. It can be a deliberate choice to focus on a feeling, a principle, or an area of your body. It may be something you want to nurture or explore. Or your intention may simply be to stay present—to notice what arises without immediately judging it or trying to change it.
Your intention gives you a place to begin.
Maybe your intention is:
I want to move with less pain.
I want to get back to the activities I love.
I want more freedom to move, explore, travel, play, or try something new.
I want to feel stronger and more capable.
Or maybe you don’t know yet.
You can begin there, too.
Because intention doesn’t guarantee impact.
My first yoga class certainly didn’t.
But when you move with intention, pay attention to what your body is communicating, and respond to what you notice, something begins to change.
You are no longer simply trying to make your body do what you want.
You are building a relationship with it.
And perhaps the most meaningful impact isn’t what you accomplish in a single practice.
It’s what becomes possible when you learn to listen, respond, and trust your capacity to change.
Start with Awareness
Change doesn’t always begin by doing more. Sometimes it begins by noticing more.
If you’re curious about what your body has been trying to tell you, start there. Learn to notice the signals, patterns, and possibilities that can help you move forward with more confidence.
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