Grief work is joy work. I create spaces where every part of us is welcome, to find our way back to wholeness.

I’m Kathryn Robinson, a yoga teacher (E-RYT 500), singer, and facilitator of spaces for movement, rest, ritual, and grief. Since 2011, I’ve brought together breath, music, philosophy, poetry, and embodied practice to help people listen more closely to themselves and find room for what is moving through their lives.

I came to yoga during a time when I felt far from myself. I had witnessed the death of my little brother as a child and lived for years with anxiety. In my twenties, while navigating an abusive relationship, I felt numb and disconnected. My mother once told me, “The light has left your eyes.” A steady yoga practice helped me feel that light again. It did not make life simple, but it gave me a way to be with it.

That experience still lives at the heart of my teaching. I offer Bhakti-inspired flow, restorative yoga, Yoga Nidra, chanting, breath work, vocal exploration, and grief ritual. Some gatherings are playful and full of song; others invite deep quiet. I care about making space where people can arrive as they are, without having to turn their experience into something more polished or certain.

I teach classes and work with individuals and groups in the San Francisco Bay Area, and travel to collaborate on retreats and healing experiences. This work has taken me to Costa Rica, the south of France, Greece, Guatemala, Turkey, Spirit Rock in Marin County, and the San Francisco Dharma Collective and retreat centers throughout the East Coast. Wherever I teach, I’m interested in what becomes possible when we practice in community and allow ourselves to be changed by what we feel.

I received my 200-hour yoga certification in 2011 and completed a 500 hour advanced training with Tara Glazier and Zhenja La Rosa in 2013. My approach to grief work has been shaped by studies with Paul Denniston and David Kessler, alongside years of learning from teachers, collaborators, and the people who have trusted me to sit with them.

I believe practice can help us return to ourselves, again and again. Sometimes that return comes through movement. Sometimes through a song, a breath, a good cry, or the simple relief of being met where we are.