WHY I TEACH THE WAY I DO
Becoming Good at Nothing Specific
I am Diana, an architect, urban researcher, and mover living in Zürich and learning around the globe. I have been moving for as long as I can remember. Throughout my teenage and university years, I trained diligently as a long-distance runner, mastering the discipline and solitude it provided. While I excelled at running, it was my only movement language—I was a hard-coded specialist confined to certain patterns and planes. However, while living in Singapore, my interest shifted toward practices that would challenge my conventional paths, inviting me to twist and bend beyond the rigid lines of my sagittal plane.
One day, I walked into a class that instantly resonated with me (and kicked my ass!). As my breath finally slowed down, I noticed my postures becoming steadier, longer, and firmer. I discovered that breathing was a superpower—the ultimate bridge between mind and matter. Initially, my assumptions about yoga kept me away: too mystic, too closed, too dogmatic. Yet the mindset of "being able to do difficult things" kept drawing me back, and to my surprise, I found myself doing exactly that, and more.
I began investigating the connection between mind and matter, intention and muscle, while exploring how physical practice could bring transformative change at mental and emotional levels. We do what we believe we can do.
After many years of committed practice, I reached a point where I felt stuck, which led me to explore other spaces. Upon returning to Europe, I delved into dance, capoeira, calisthenics, contortion, weight training, handstands, and more. Though I had never practiced these disciplines, my body instinctively understood their languages. It was a true eureka moment—realizing that all those years, I wasn't just learning postures but developing awareness, skill, control, a language. Compress, twist, open, maintain, squeeze, cross, rotate, lengthen. Patterns of movement.
Have we truly observed how we move through this world in our bodies and minds? Full awareness of bodily sensation is a form of meditation. It anchors us in the present moment. Each day we discover our new body, approaching practice with a beginner's mind—maintaining lightness yet persistence. What works one day might not work the next, and it's along this fine flickering line that we must work each day. Progress, not perfection.
When I taught my first class, five students walked out exhausted yet happy. And they kept coming back. As I continued teaching, I realized I not only had something genuine to share but had found a powerful way to become accountable for my own practice. Every day offers a chance for practice, and every failure is an opportunity for progress. My belief is your belief in your own practice. Take from it what you will... My aim is to inspire you to discover your own practice, not just for our time together, but for the rest of your life.
From that moment on, my fascination evolved into a quest for the interconnectedness woven through these diverse practices. I found myself in a realm where movement transcends confines, where the body's meta-language speaks in patterns rather than rigid disciplines.
Here, I immerse myself in translating, uniting compressions and rotations, extensions and squeezes. I seek to unlock the profound potential our bodies hold, pushing the limits of my understanding and reimagining the very essence of movement—transforming limits into fluidity and constraint into freedom.
Precise and intelligent methodology has not only fascinated my curious mind but also deeply influenced my practice, leading me to seek intelligent movement through accurate action and technique rather than mere "flow." I see movement through an architect's eyes: precise, detailed, mathematical. In every integration, in every fold, we find functional beauty, the intelligence of precision, and a story to tell. Yet skills and aesthetics aren't the ultimate goal—it's how we practice them: with full awareness and vigilant attention to every inch of skin. A skill is never finished; it's a tool, a process.
