What Seven Years in Melbourne Taught Me About Surrender, Growth & Returning to My Roots

Greetings from Australia’s Bush Capital and the little city I grew up in. The city I've come back to. for the next chapter of my life.

Lately, I’ve found myself in a place of reflection. It’s been seven and a half years since I have lived in Canberra and so much has shifted. I’ve changed in more ways than I ever imagined.

If I’m being honest, my relationship with Melbourne was a complex one. A dance between love and resistance. Perhaps I’ll always be a Canberran at heart. Some might assume I’d only see the challenges. But no, there was sunshine amongst the shadows. It was an extraordinary chapter.
Rich with life: marriage, birth, death, house fires, burglaries and lockdowns. We lived through all but one of those infamous long lockdowns and “snap lockdowns.” For a while, it felt like us Victorians were living in a country of our own. We escaped one 'snap lockdown' in 2021 to seek cancer treatment for my late mother in Sydney.
Over that time, we moved house five times. It was chaotic, yes. But it also gave me the rare opportunity to live in a city of five million after spending most of my life in a small one. The capital of Australia which many around the world have never heard of.

No one really knows what’s around the corner. Sure, some people might have a sixth sense. I believe there are true psychics out there but even so, life throws us curveballs.
We’re left wondering, “Why this? Why now?”
But I’ve come to trust that the universe does reveal its reasons — eventually. This year has been one of those revelations for me.

When I first landed in Melbourne in August 2017, I couldn’t have imagined ever leaving. Canberra was home, but Melbourne was a whole new world. I thought it would be our “forever.”
I still laugh thinking about what the Victorian removalist told me on day one:
“If you don’t like the weather, just wait half an hour!” How true that was!''

Melbourne was a culture shock. Tolls. Trams. Traffic. I even had a close call with a tram in St Kilda back in 2017! Canberra’s roundabouts never prepared me for that! But amidst the chaos, my driving improved, and so did my patience.

What Melbourne gave me though, was priceless.
World-class yoga and Pilates opportunities came right to my doorstep. Within just four months of arriving, I undertook a mind-opening training with Jo Phee. Senior assistant to Paul Grilley and an anatomy and fascia geek. To this day, it remains the most profound influence on the way I teach yoga. No other teacher training has reshaped my perspective and teaching style quite like that one. It opened my eyes to new layers of depth. Anatomical understanding, and a personalised approach that still guides my teaching now.

I made the most out of introductory studio offers. By attending classes at dozens of studios around Melbourne. Reformer, ‘megaformer’ and hot Pilates. Yin, Restorative, Slow Flow, Hot Vinyasa, Bikram and Ashtanga. According to mind body I attended over 150 classes. This gave me invaluable experience to expand my skills as an instructor. Even attending a class in which you don't enjoy is worth it. It encourages you to contemplate why. Help you learn what not to do yourself.

Health-wise, I had 5 outstanding surgeons. Another gift that would have required travelling to Sydney if we’d stayed in Canberra. I discovered the power of eye movement desensitisation reprocessing (EMDR) and trauma release exercises.

Professionally, the opportunities were endless. I taught Reformer Pilates at 11 studios. I taught hot Pilates for the first time. I taught yoga at several studios and gyms. I had supportive employers who supported me in becoming a qualified Barre instructor. Something I’d never imagined possible. The fact I had never been a dancer made this a challenging style of class to instruct. The musicality component is crucial. I didn’t have that experience.

While pregnant in 2019, I ran my first Yin Yoga, Myofascial Release, and MyoYin workshop. A popular workshop which I was asked to run again. Then Covid hit. A turning point in my teaching path. Luckily I am currently working on bringing that online. I also facilitated 2 more LifeForce Yoga workshops during my time in Melbourne.
In 2022 I finally got to explore something I had dreamt of teaching for years—Bikram Yoga. Bikram was my introduction to yoga back in 2011. For a while, I had considered doing the original teacher training. Thank goodness I didn’t. It wasn’t for me. Over time, I came to disagree with many of the principles and the rigidity of the original dialogue. But Melbourne gave me something I never expected. The chance to teach Bikram without doing the official training, and to teach it my way. Working with my chosen dialogue while staying authentic to my values. Weaving in yogic philosophy. Became a powerful personal test. A beautiful expression of Tapas, or disciplined effort. It pushed me to grow in mindset, resilience, and creativity. Even teaching 'Bikram Beats'. Silent Bikram to music. Such a meditative asana practice for experienced practitioners

The pandemic brought a whole new teaching landscape. Online (pre-recorded and live) classes, outdoor reformer and yoga. It also opened my eyes to something I hadn’t expected: the power and potential of online learning. I completed my second 200-hour teacher training. This time with Power Living Australia. I'd always wanted to train with them after being inspired by many of their graduates. This along with several other yoga and Pilates courses, all from the comfort of my home. It was a turning point. I realised how effective, accessible, and convenient online courses could be. For students and teachers.

So, when 2 of the studios I worked for closed. The gym I had taught reformer for since 2017 changed owners, I didn’t crumble. I pivoted. I saw that as a sign too.

I took the plunge and began offering online classes, mentorship, and coaching. Leaning into the resilience I’d developed. I also discovered new strengths. Like video and audio editing, which became invaluable as I created digital content.
That same creative momentum, coupled with the inner fire I felt after losing our home. Gave birth to something I’d long dreamed of. My passion project, The Inner Fire of Yoga Podcast. It became a space to share real conversations, practical tools, and stories of personal growth. Like the one you’re reading now.
In 2024 I taught kids yoga at my daughter’s kinder, after they found out I'm qualified in kids yoga. One of my most heartwarming experiences.

When my husband first mentioned moving back to Canberra in 2022, I didn’t want to hear it. We’d bought our dream home in 2021. With my late mother as a good luck charm in the background. I had my dream job. I felt seen and appreciated. Especially during the challenges that came with vaccine mandates. But then, things began to unravel first with my main workplace closing its doors.
There were several break-ins on our street, including a heart-breaking one next door. Our own house got scoped out. A stabbing and a home invasion happened nearby. 
On the 11 of January 2024, we lost our home to a fire. Our hazardous house (now demolished) got burgled by 4 teenagers a few months later.

Suddenly, what once felt like a dream… no longer did. Circumstances can change in the blink of an eye. When another Canberra opportunity arose again for my husband’s career, my answer was clear: Yes. It was time.
And then the universe gave us a beautiful sign.
We enrolled our daughter into a local Canberra school. Only to discover that three of her teachers had worked with my late, award-winning mother. One was so moved, she had tears in her eyes when she found out who my late mother was. A highly regarded and loved teacher who had received an Order of Australia Medal for Music Education. By the Governor General at the ACT Hospice less than a week before she died. A full-circle moment if there ever was one. Maybe my late mother had a plan too. Who knows.
Then we found a new home, one that felt even more “us” than the last. It’s more than a place to live. It's a sanctuary to offer face-to-face sessions. And a space for filming my online content. My intention though is not to take it for granted this time.

So yes, Melbourne brought challenges. But it also brought growth. Growth I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Each step, each class, each student added something invaluable to my teaching style and confidence. To the thousand or so students I taught in Melbourne. You have been my greatest teachers. Not just my supporters, but my critics as well. People who criticise help see where there's need for improvement. They also teach you more about yourself. Your own mindset with how you handle that criticism. Especially when that criticism is public and loud! Thank you!

To Melbourne, with your wild weather, relentless traffic, and generous heart—thank you. You shaped me in more ways than I can count.

And Canberra, it’s good to be home. I return a wiser, more grounded woman. Who knows what the next seven and a half years will bring?

There’s a beautiful piece of yoga philosophy that continues to guide me:
Ishvara Pranidhana.
It means surrendering to a higher power. Letting go of the need to control outcomes, and trusting that life is unfolding exactly as it should. That each experience, joyful or painful, is an opportunity for growth and evolution. Ishvara refers to the divine or higher consciousness. Pranidhana means to dedicate, surrender, or offer oneself. This practice has taught me to release attachment to “why”. And instead find peace in the present moment. To surrender doesn’t mean giving up. It means showing up with trust, acceptance, and heart-led intention.

And long before yoga philosophy, Aristotle echoed a similar truth:
“Everything happens for a reason.” He believed every moment helps shape who we are becoming. Perhaps that’s just our way of making sense of life’s ups and downs. Or perhaps, it’s exactly the wisdom we need to hold onto when things fall apart.

Because sometimes, when we pause and reflect. We find the golden thread of meaning woven through even the hardest chapters.

With gratitude,

Liz