Yoga, Sound & Retreats: Interview Bernadette Part II – The Writing Yogini

Welcome to the second part of the interview with Bernadette! It gets personal today, as she talks about her challenges and plans – so let’s dive right in!

How do you incorporate breathing and relaxation techniques into your classes, and what changes do you see in your students as a result?

The answer is actually simple: sound alone already promotes letting go and relaxation. It helps deepen the breath without the need for conscious control. The nervous system is allowed to shift from a mode of doing to a state of being.

Many participants describe a feeling of inner spaciousness, clarity, and calm afterward. Not spectacular, but centered. For me, that’s the biggest change: when people reconnect with themselves.

How do you structure your retreats and workshops to convey both depth and lightness?

For me, depth arises from a sense of security. And safety arises where nothing is expected and nothing needs to be achieved.

In our work with Just.be Retreatswe create spaces that are intentionally designed to slow down. Spaces where people can simply be present without having to explain themselves. Without a role. Without a function. Even the external conditions are crucial to this: locations in nature, clear daily structures without feeling confined, plenty of breaks, shared meals, and times without a set schedule. All of this signals to the nervous system: You are allowed to be here. You are safe.

In terms of content, we work with a conscious alternation of activity and rest. Hatha Yoga, Yin Yoga, meditation, creative rituals, mantras, sound, Thai Yoga Bodywork, and deep relaxation formats such as Australian Regenerative Deep Relaxation (ArT) intertwine. Movement is meant to invigorate, touch is meant to regulate, silence is meant to linger. Nothing stands alone; everything is part of a larger field of connection.

What is particularly important to me: Depth is not a goal. It is a consequence. When people feel safe, when they sense that they don’t have to function, then something opens up all on its own. Sometimes quietly, sometimes powerfully. And for me, that is precisely the essence of our retreats: they hold a space where depth can happen—but doesn’t have to.

What role does yoga play in your daily life—beyond the time you spend on the mat?

For me, yoga isn’t limited to a specific class or the mat. It permeates every facet of my daily life. In the car, when patience is required. In challenging professional situations, when it’s about staying clear-headed without becoming harsh. In arguments with my spouse, when I feel how quickly a reaction wants to arise—and how much space there is in between if I wait for a breath.

And especially in my life as a mother. My children are my greatest teachers. They challenge me daily to be present, honest, patient—and also forgiving toward myself. They immediately reflect back to me how much my posture, tone of voice, and inner alignment have an impact. With them, nothing can be “done right” in the traditional sense. But there is so much to experience consciously.

Here, yoga reveals itself not as a technique, but as an attitude: listening before I respond. Regulating myself before I discipline. Taking responsibility for my reactions instead of projecting them outward. This is often challenging—and at the same time deeply alive.

All of this happens without dogma. For me, yoga isn’t something aloof. It’s real. It’s always there.

Yoga is breathing. Karma. The awareness of every action. And when we are mindful—even for just a brief moment—the moment itself changes.

Who or what inspires you today on your yoga and life journey?

It’s the people in my life. Period. And definitely my children.

They don’t inspire me; they confront me. With myself. With my limits, my reactions, my impatience. They show me very directly how I handle stress, how present I really am, and where I act out of habit rather than awareness. It’s not always pleasant, but it’s honest.

The people I meet in my work also move me—at the yoga studio, on retreats, in everyday life. There’s no need for grand stories. Often, a brief exchange is enough, a moment of openness, or sometimes simply being there side by side.

For me, inspiration isn’t something special or sublime. It arises through connection. It happens when I don’t withdraw, but stay.

Are there specific challenges that have shaped you and that you pass on today?

Where should I start?

To be more patient with myself. To love myself just as I am. Not having to achieve anything to be valuable. To be kind without having to fight for it.

All of this can be learned when you open your heart. For a long time, I didn’t know what that actually meant myself. That’s why I repeatedly invite people to open their hearts in my classes—in the hope of encouraging one or two to give it a try.

To me, opening one’s heart means being authentic, not being afraid of one’s own vulnerability, developing trust in one’s own path, and remaining open to change.

Not everything has to be viewed through a strictly positive lens. But we can face whatever comes our way with honesty and equanimity.

What projects or visions do you have for the future—both personally and with your yoga practice?

I want to spread yoga further. But not as a method, not as a concept, not as something you “do.” Rather, as something you live.

I want to create connection—with oneself and with others. Honestly. Authentically. Humanly.

With Just.be RetreatsI’ve realized a vision that has since grown beyond anything I ever imagined. And that’s exactly what makes it so beautiful: I don’t have to control it. We create spaces where people are simply allowed to be. Without roles. Without expectations. Without the pressure to perform. Spaces where nothing needs to be fixed.

What drives me is not growth in the traditional sense. It is depth. Authenticity. Connection. I envision retreats, workshops, and formats that reconnect people—with their bodies, their nervous systems, their hearts, their truth. And I hope that these spaces are safe. Warm. Clear. Free from dogma.

Personally, I hope to stay true to myself. Not to bend myself out of shape just because something “works.” To show my children by example that you’re allowed to go your own way, even if it isn’t always straight. And that work and career can arise from love—not from fear.

I don’t have a five-year plan. And that feels right.

I trust that life will lead me forward—just as it has done so far. And I am ready to listen.