From Hidden Dragon to Sanctuary:
Finding Home Again
For more than a decade, Hidden Dragon Yoga was my sanctuary. It wasn’t just a yoga studio—it was a home, a family, a place built from the ground up with sweat, love, and an unwavering belief in the power of community. We weren’t just practicing yoga; we were creating something bigger than ourselves. A space where people could heal, grow, and belong.
Leaving that behind was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But life, in all its mystery, has a way of nudging us toward new beginnings. And sometimes, those beginnings come when we feel the most lost.
When I moved to Gunnison, I didn’t know what I was doing. I was grieving, untethered, unsure of where I fit in this valley. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that movement—literal and figurative—heals. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I reached out. I sent an email looking for a place to teach. I didn’t have a grand plan, just a deep knowing that I needed to do something that brought me joy. That I needed to move.
And that next step led me here—to Sanctuary.
A New Place to Land
Sanctuary isn’t something I built from scratch, and I love that. This space was already alive, deeply rooted in this valley, carried forward by people who believed in its potential. It just needed some tending, some blooming, and the right energy to help it grow.
I’m honored to step into this next chapter as the new studio manager (or wrangler, if you prefer). I know how tight-knit this community is, and I don’t take it lightly. Being the new kid on the block isn’t always easy, especially in a place where bonds run deep. But I want you to know—this isn’t just a job for me. This is my passion, my purpose, my heart.
I come to this work not just as a teacher, but as a lifelong student of movement, transformation, and community.
The Practice That Kept Me
Yoga started as a way for me to keep playing hard. I wanted to keep snowboarding, running, hiking, swimming, climbing—all the things that make me feel alive. I didn’t come to the mat looking for spirituality or self-discovery. I just wanted my body to keep up with my spirit.
But the magic of this practice doesn’t let you stop at the surface. It works its way into your bones, your breath, your being. It kept me coming back—not just for strength and mobility, but for the mental, emotional, and spiritual depth it uncovered. It reminded me that growth happens in the uncomfortable places. That life, like practice, isn’t about being perfect—it’s about showing up, again and again, even when it’s hard.
And that’s what I want to share here in Gunnison. A space where we can all show up as we are, where we can move, breathe, and find what we need—whether that’s a hard sweat, deep stillness, or something in between.
Gratitude for the Journey
I didn’t make it here alone. Sanctuary exists because of the kindness, vision, and dedication of so many—Joe Bob Merritt, whose wisdom continues to guide us. Heidi Magnus, our community director, who holds this space with such care. And our beloved staff—Meegan, Leia, Marcia, Chris, Sean, Tina. Our artistic gem, Amanda, who gives Sanctuary its visual soul.
And to the community I haven’t yet met but am eager to know—thank you for welcoming me. I see you. I respect the roots that have been planted here, and I’m honored to be a part of its continued growth.
Let’s Move, Let’s Grow
This practice, this place—it’s not just about what happens on the mat. It’s a reflection of how we move through life. It shows us where we are and, if we’re willing to listen, how to move forward.
So let’s show up. Let’s lean into the work, into the growth, into whatever this practice has to teach us. And let’s do it together—with curiosity, courage, and community.
I’m here. I’m ready. And I can’t wait to practice with you.
With gratitude,
Desirae
All images on this post are the exceptional work of photographer Gary Thomas
