I was born in 1987 in Budapest, as the middle child of young parents.

From the very beginning, music was closely woven into my life, thanks to my mother. She sang all day long, knew countless songs, and taught them to us. Every evening she rocked us to sleep with lullabies, and on the way to kindergarten, and later to school, she would sing with us in canon, in multiple voices. We lived our joy, sadness, and fears through music. I attended a music school as well, where singing and playing instruments filled our days. It was an immense happiness to sing together with other children, to travel with them to choir festivals around the world, to achieve success, to record songs for the radio, to compete, to feel the nervous excitement, and then to hug each other through tears of joy. These beautiful childhood years laid a deep foundation for me to later recognize the community-building power of music, and the vital role it plays in creating emotional well-being.

The difficulties of adolescence arrived suddenly, with my parents’ divorce and my removal from music school. In an instant, my friends, my beloved teachers, my familiar surroundings, and the feeling of family harmony were replaced by a completely different life, where loneliness, feeling misunderstood, exclusion, insecurity, stress, and anxiety became part of my everyday reality. My relationship with my father deteriorated deeply. His love and care became conditional, and meeting those conditions became one of the central driving forces of my life. For many years, I fought unconsciously for my father’s attention, which always felt out of reach. I could never do anything in a way that pleased him. He never praised or acknowledged me. Instead, he mocked me and made jokes at my expense. Everything that mattered to me seemed uninteresting to him, or even foolish. I went through many painful and unfair experiences, and during those years I completely withdrew. I shrank inward. I didn’t feel worthy of anything. I lived in constant shame and was tormented by guilt. My self-esteem and self-love almost disappeared.

In my relationships, I kept repeating the same pattern I had learned from my father: they were never equal partnerships. Again and again, I placed myself beneath the man, quietly stepping back, hiding, and trying to satisfy his every desire. And whenever my carefree nature or longing for freedom surfaced, I was scolded. I was labelled too loud, too much, too dramatic, an ungrateful, dissatisfied woman. My twenties were years of searching. I escaped from one relationship into the next, while studying law to meet my father’s expectations. At university, verbal and emotional abuse became part of everyday life.

## Years of searching

Yet thanks to my mother, I had tools in my hands from childhood that helped me survive those dark and difficult years. I was eight years old when I attended a Silva Method course for children, and from that point on I used the techniques I learned there. They helped me concentrate, study, handle difficult situations, prepare for the day ahead, and calm down in the evenings so I could let go. I still remember how I prepared for exams and challenging days with these techniques, and how I gained confidence by seeing what I could achieve through affirmations, visualization, and focus.

At nineteen, in 2006, I began attending family constellation sessions to explore the impact of generational patterns on my life. I gained insight into the workings of the morphogenetic field, and into the magical, relieving, transformative power of healing phrases. For at least ten years I attended these sessions with my own struggles, and I also participated as a helper. During those years I completed training in Spiritual Response Therapy (SRT) and Touch for Health Kinesiology Levels 1–2, with the intention of releasing inner tension and finding a way out of confusion, fear, and anxiety.

In 2010, one of the most defining events of my life happened: my father went to prison. My entire world collapsed in an instant. The man whose attention and approval I had fought for, worked for, had done terrible things, and I felt utterly devastated. Ashamed, betrayed, abandoned, and stigmatized. For years I couldn’t speak about it. I couldn’t face it. The guilt I carried was enormous. What also belongs to this story is that I was repeatedly treated unfairly in connection with it, by people whose anger was triggered by my father, but because I was the one present, I became the target of their attacks.

Suddenly the veil lifted, and I could see clearly the manipulation and emotional blackmail I had been exposed to. It felt as if a dark shadow had disappeared from my life, and the energy that had held back my growth vanished all at once. I knew I had to reshape my life. It was time to take my life into my own hands. I could no longer live as a victim of circumstances.

## My encounter with yoga

During my university years I started going to yoga classes, searching for a little peace amid everything terrible that was happening to me, at least for those ninety minutes. After each class, a kind of uplifted feeling would take over. I felt good, a sensation that had been old and long forgotten. Soon I understood that yoga was not simply physical exercise. It was so much more than that, and my desire for deeper understanding and wisdom grew very strong. At last I felt I could find answers to the questions that had lived within me since childhood: questions about existence and the world, and about why such terrible things happen to people.

I finished university in survival mode. I didn’t even want to imagine what kind of future awaited me in law, in the business world, surrounded by lies, deception, and passive-aggressive behavior patterns. I struggled with regular panic attacks and deep depression, but I didn’t dare share my feelings with anyone or ask for help, because I didn’t feel worthy of it. Fortunately, my helpers never abandoned me. They always brought the strength and the next step at exactly the right time. This is how I found Ashtanga yoga.

By then I had been practicing yoga three times a week for years at a studio, when one day a substitute teacher came to teach spine yoga. Because deep, audible breathing (Ujjayi) came naturally to me during practice, at the end of the class she asked if I practiced Ashtanga. That was the first time I had ever heard the word, yet it felt strangely familiar and it wouldn’t leave me alone. I remember sitting in a law office, searching online for yoga courses, and suddenly seeing a name I recognized: Ashtanga yoga. The studio offering a one-month beginner course was on the other side of the bridge, very close to where I lived and directly on my way home. There was no question: that was where I needed to be.

It was May 2014 when I enrolled in the Ashtanga yoga beginner course at Bandha Works Yoga School, and it completely changed my life. I fell in love instantly. The breath, the movement, the postures, the philosophy, everything felt so captivating and so familiar that I was entirely pulled in. In October I also attended their yoga retreat, where I began Mysore practice, and I felt clearly: from now on, I didn’t want to practice anything else. I had arrived.

At this retreat I also encountered kirtan for the first time: the singing of Sanskrit mantras in a devotional way, in a liberated, joyful atmosphere, with complete surrender. I remember sitting in the very last row, barely daring to make a sound, afraid of what others would think.

It felt so good to be in an environment where I wasn’t seen as strange for practicing yoga, singing, and searching for joy, happiness, and freedom. From that moment on, this school became my new home. I didn’t even want to go back to my old life. The abusive relationship, the office, the suppressed and unspoken traumas, I wanted to erase them all with a magic wand. The deep transformation and liberation had begun. I went to Mysore class every morning, and yoga started to carve out its place in my life. First through the end of my relationship, and then by making me question my entire professional path.

At the very beginning of this purification process, in early 2015, I met my teacher, Govinda Kai, who spent a month and a half at the yoga school leading the Mysore program. I was at my lowest point then. My partner had left me, and I was replaying the tragedy of my parents’ divorce. I didn’t like my job, and everything felt hopeless. The early morning yoga classes were my only refuge.

Govinda’s very first talk had a profound impact on me. He began speaking about the depth of yoga and life, and about connections I had only vaguely sensed existed. I remember taking notes as if my life depended on it. Two things stayed with me vividly from that evening. One was the image: the room was full, at least seventy of us packed into the small yoga shala, while Govinda, a small Asian man with dark skin, sat in lotus position in the center, radiating calm, peace, and contentment. He began his talk by saying he had come there for himself. As soon as he said it, you could feel the shock in the group: how could a teacher say such a thing? It was so honest, so unusual. Only later did we truly understand what he meant.

The other key message was how he explained that our actions are mainly driven by two motivations: the desire to accumulate as much pleasure as possible, and the desire to experience as little pain and discomfort as possible. According to him, yoga is learning to become stronger and greater than discomfort and pain, and daring to enter and stay present in difficult moments. For who I was at the time, this felt unbelievable and radical, and at the same time deeply inspiring. I couldn’t sleep afterwards.

Govinda began teaching at 5 a.m., and for the first two weeks there was no one to drive him from his accommodation to the studio. It never occurred to me to volunteer. I had only been practicing for a few months, and I assumed, out of respect and humility, that the senior students would compete for the honor of driving the teacher. But a few days before the program began, it turned out no one had signed up for the first two weeks, and a crazy thought flashed through me: then I will do it.

At that time I was still practicing at 7 a.m., and even that felt extremely early. Yet I felt so strongly that I had to be in my car at 4:45, driving to Pasarét to pick up Govinda and take him to the shala by 5, that in the end I did exactly that. During those early morning drives we became friends. He found out I was a lawyer, and he asked me a simple but terrifying question that sealed my future: “Would you still go to work if you weren’t paid for it?” I looked at him as if he were crazy for asking such a thing at dawn. Who works without money? He told me that he would still teach yoga even if nobody paid him for it. But that I shouldn’t tell anyone :) He planted a seed in me, and I began reflecting on what I would do if money didn’t matter. A multi-year process of deep transformation began, and by the end of it, I found myself.

After only a week of knowing him, I also shared my father’s story with Govinda, at a time when I didn’t dare speak about it to anyone. I was so ashamed. His reaction was far from ordinary. He became so enthusiastic that I thought he didn’t understand what I was saying. With joy and admiration in his voice, he assured me that this was the greatest gift of my life, that it would transform me completely and give me countless abilities, and that it had even led me to yoga. So how could it be a bad experience? That’s true, I thought, and I began to see my difficult, dark experiences in a completely different light. It transformed my entire relationship to life.

Ashtanga, kirtan, and the mantras cleansed me and strengthened me mentally, emotionally, and physically. In the summer I resigned from my job and jumped into the unknown, but free life. I had no idea what would happen to me, what work I would do, how I would make a living, but I knew that whatever I did had to be aligned with who I truly am. I moved step by step, and from that point on every decision I made served the purpose of bringing me closer to my true self and my nature. I looked at what I loved most as a child, what flowed from me naturally, what I could give without effort. And that is how I returned to music, to singing, and to community.

## Years of learning

During these years of unfolding and learning, I traveled regularly to India and around the world: Japan, America, Italy, the Netherlands. There was always an opportunity for the next step. My previous life had been organized and planned in advance, but I began to function in a new way: allowing things to happen without trying to control events. The plan became that there was no plan. I surrendered to being guided.

This was supported by early morning yoga practice, chanting mantras, and studying and interpreting sacred yogic texts. I read and learned endlessly: Ayurveda, philosophy, poetry. And I didn’t only absorb wisdom intellectually, but began to bring Vedic teachings into my everyday life. Yoga offers experiential knowledge. Through it, a person becomes capable of directly experiencing transcendence. As my teacher Govinda often says, the teachings are like a menu in a restaurant, containing pictures and descriptions of the dishes. But reading the menu will never tell you what the food actually tastes like. To know that, you have to order it and eat it. In other words, to truly understand the teachings, we must practice them, integrate them into our lives. That is how wisdom nourishes us, becomes part of our being, and deep understanding begins to move through us.

Over the years I studied and practiced in many yoga schools around the world, and I began teaching as well. Slowly and naturally, opportunities unfolded. I practiced, developed, opened, and stepped more courageously into my inner truth and strength. I ran a vegan restaurant, cooked vegan, gluten-free Ayurvedic meals at retreats, and more and more it became clear that whatever I do, I must do it from the heart, with the intention of giving selflessly and being in service.

At the same time, my friends from the Kirtan Band regularly invited me to play music with them, and through them I met wonderful people. Music became a living part of my life again. I remember in December 2017 they organized a beautiful kirtan celebration for the Festival of Light and invited me to join. It was a magical evening. So many incredible people gathered, and we shared deeply moving moments. That night, when I returned home filled with elevated feelings and joy, I wrote in my journal: I am a musician, and from now on, everything I do will serve this truth, so I can live it at the highest level.

That was also the year I first encountered ceremonial cacao, thanks to a Brazilian girl, and I began organizing cacao ceremonies. Another important and defining experience is connected to that year as well, when Govinda invited me to play music at his retreat in Italy. It was the first time I was invited somewhere as a musician. He asked me to bring a drummer too, because he wanted vibrant music for the evening kirtans. I invited Ákos Várnai, whom I had met at Kirtan Band events, and during that retreat our friendship was sealed.

It was a one-week yoga retreat at a beautiful Italian lake in the mountains. The landscape was breathtaking. We spent the entire day in silence. In the morning we practiced asana and mantra, and in the evening we sang kirtan. Every day followed the same rhythm. We experienced such deep moments together through the evening chanting, and it was there that I had my first transcendent experience while singing. These experiences changed me forever.

## My musical path

The following year, encouraged by a friend, I founded the Julia Chants band. Together with four fellow musicians, we began organizing beautiful kirtans that quickly became very popular. We invited wonderful guest musicians again and again, letting ever more refined and beautiful music flow through us, while the mantras and communal singing opened our hearts and purified our minds. We performed at several festivals, created a mantra album with Govinda Kai, and traveled to Amsterdam for the Inner Peace Conference, where Govinda and I offered an electrifying, uplifting kirtan. During this time I learned so much about leading a band, organizing, assertive communication, and I did everything with ease and joy.

The next turning point came with the 2020 lockdowns, when I began organizing regular online mantra circles and was able to reach more and more people. It became important to me to share the harmonizing, mind-calming power of the mantras and the practice. That year I also began giving singing lessons. Many people approached me wanting to work with their voice. I am happy to support people in learning conscious voice use, breathwork, healing songs, and mantras, so they can create a balanced and peaceful life for themselves.

At the end of that year, the Julia Chants band dissolved, because we felt that the original intention that had brought the formation together was no longer shared, and everyone began evolving in slightly different directions. We parted peacefully, with love.

During the quarantine period I spent more and more time in nature. I disappeared on long walks and hikes deep into the forest, avoiding tourist trails, so I could connect as closely as possible with the wild. The slowing down and quietness that this time brought felt good for my heart, and at the time I didn’t yet know that I was preparing for a wonderful, intense new chapter.

My band Medicina was founded in the spring of 2021, and thanks to it an entirely new life opened up for me. My musical self-expression rose to another level. There is such deep love and cooperation between us that it is tangible and flows through our music. For me, this community brought the final step of my unfolding: through years of inner work, I was able to become a woman who stands in her truth, writes her own songs and lyrics, and organizes events for hundreds of people, instead of remaining the shy, withdrawn girl who always placed herself beneath others. Not that this makes me “more”! I simply stepped into my life. I live my dreams. I follow the inspirations I feel. And I owe this to the practice.

## A life moving toward wholeness

Yoga and mantra practice have become part of my life. I practice every day. I live a harmonious, healthy, and joyful life that I gladly share with anyone. Practice opens our hearts, and through it we are able to connect with the purest parts of ourselves, with our Soul. Life becomes joyful, energized, and colorful, where magic becomes an everyday experience.

## Authorization

Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga is my foundational practice, and it has been part of my life for eleven years. In 2016 I traveled to Mysore, India for the first time, where I began studying with Sharath Jois, the holder of the Ashtanga yoga tradition. First at KPJAYI, and later at the Sharath Yoga Center, where in February 2025 I received Level 2 authorization. This allows me, according to the school’s traditions, to teach the first two series of Ashtanga yoga. With this esteemed recognition, I feel an even greater responsibility to share this beautiful practice.

Thank you for reading!

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