I Didn’t Know This Would Become My Life
I didn’t start practicing yoga because I thought it would change my life. I started because something in me needed it. I didn’t have the language for it at the time. I just knew I needed somewhere to go - somewhere that felt steady, somewhere that felt like mine.
The first roll-out
Over twenty years ago, I rolled out a mat for the first time.
And I could have never imagined that it would become one of the cornerstones of my life.
That it would hold me.
That it would challenge me.
That it would quite literally… save me.
Honouring Your Timing
Four years ago, almost to this day, I walked away from a 14-year abusive relationship - and the 15-year corporate career I had built alongside it.
On paper, I had everything I thought I was supposed to want. I had climbed every ladder, exceeded crazy targets, reached levels of success that had once felt like my wildest dreams.
But if I’m honest… none of it really mattered.
Because underneath all of it, I wasn’t well.
At the time, I didn’t fully understand how much I had normalized. What I had tolerated.
How disconnected I had become from my own body, my own voice, my own truth.
I just knew something in me couldn’t stay any longer.
But leaving wasn’t one clean, clear moment.
It was years of my body trying to get my attention.
A pivotal moment
I remember one day leaving the house of a close friend - the very person I’m writing this for.
We had been through so much together. We completed our yoga teacher training side by side - an experience that challenged me in ways I didn’t expect. I don’t know that I would have made it through without her.
I got a call from him.
And I had to pull over.
My body started convulsing - completely out of my control.
I didn’t understand what was happening.
To be honest, I didn’t know that wasn’t normal.
But something in me knew… this wasn’t safe.
That moment stayed with me.
My body had been speaking for a long time. I just hadn’t fully learned how to listen yet.
When silence spoke
There were years where my practice was the only place I could hear myself.
When life felt loud, confusing, or like it was pulling me further away from who I was - my body always told the truth.
And yoga, in its simplest form, gave me a way to listen.
Not perfectly.
Not gracefully.
But consistently.
It taught me resilience before I even knew that’s what I was learning.
To stay.
To breathe.
To hold discomfort without immediately trying to escape it. And over time, that translated off the mat.
Into my choices.
My relationships.
My life.
Are you willing to be here?
There’s this idea that practice is supposed to feel peaceful. And sometimes it does.
But more often, for me - it was confronting.
It showed me where I was disconnected.
Where I was holding.
Where I was overriding myself.
And it asked me, again and again:
Are you willing to be here?
Not where you wish you were.
Not who you think you should be.
But here.
That question changed everything.
The power of quietude
What started as a personal practice became something much bigger.
Not in a loud way.
In a quiet, steady, undeniable way.
I began guiding others.
Through movement.
Through the body.
Through the places they felt stuck, disconnected, or ready for something more.
Today, my work blends yoga, hands-on bodywork, and intuitive guidance - supporting people through physical, emotional, and life transitions.
It’s not about surface-level change.
It’s about helping people reconnect to themselves, release what they’re holding, and build strength - inside and out.
Because what I learned through my own experience is this:
We are not that different.
We’re all navigating something.
We’re all holding something.
We’re all, in some way, trying to find our way back to ourselves.
My role isn’t to fix anyone.
It’s to meet them where they are - and guide them deeper.
The same way I learned to do for myself.
The way forward
Community, to me, doesn’t look like perfection. It doesn’t look like everyone having it figured out. It looks like honesty.
It looks like people showing up as they are.
It looks like being seen… and choosing to stay anyway.
That’s the kind of space I care about creating.
Not just in a room.
But in the work I share.
In the way I live.
Community is the way of the future.
Now, at 42, I can say this clearly:
This is the most fulfilling work I’ve ever done.
Not because it’s easy.
But because it’s real.
Because it’s built with intention.
Because it’s lived.
Because it’s mine.
And I’m just getting started.
Consistency is key
If there’s one thing this practice has given me, it’s this:
The understanding that change doesn’t come from forcing.
It comes from showing up.
From paying attention.
From being willing to stay long enough to actually see what’s there.
Again and again.
I spoke more deeply about this - about the last four years, and what it’s taken to become who I am today - in a podcast episode I just released.
You can listen here : https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/this-one-meant-more-than-i-expected-4-years-later/id1708685578?i=1000758499988
And this is also the work I now share through my online platform - a space designed to support people not just physically, but in how they move through their lives.
You can explore it here: https://www.bodybyreneedawn.com/
There is always a beginning
I didn’t know, twenty years ago, where this path would lead.
I just knew I needed to begin.
And maybe that’s the only thing that ever really matters.
Renee Dawn is a Vancouver-based movement specialist, intuitive guide, and certified death doula. With over 20 years of experience, her work blends disciplined, alignment-driven practice with deep intuitive insight - supporting people through physical, emotional, and life transitions. Through yoga, hands-on bodywork, and mentorship, she creates spaces that are both grounding and transformative - always leading people back to themselves.