Katy Scherer Yoga

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Bonn
Katy Scherer Yoga

Katy Scherer is an Authorised level 1 Ashtanga and Breathwork teacher based in Bonn, Germany. When it comes to breathwork and pranayama it's a different story.

I am also the co-founder and owner of The Vinyasa People Yoga Studio and Yin Nation a yoga and lifestyle store. I love to blur the lines between tradition and modernity fascinating, scary, provocative and transformational! An Ashtangi at heart I find comfort and support within the traditions of the practice, completing 3 months of study in Mysore under Sharath Jois and gaining his blessing to teach in 2022 where I received my authorisation. After years of traditional practice I shook things up and dove head first into the world of breathwork where I experienced the life altering power of breath! Blending in tradition, modern science and dynamic breathwork practices I offer a space for all students to go all in, go deep all whilst being supported on the breathwork journey. I whole heartedly believes there is a beauty in combining the tradition with the modern to create a practice that serves you so you can serve others. As dedicated practitioner, teacher, business owner, mama and wife I understands the true meaning of flexibility and likes to share the lessons I has learnt to all willing to try. Over the years as a teacher I completed my first RYT 200 Hour training with Seasonal Yoga in Glasgow and then my RYT 300 with Tribe in Austria. I later went on the do a second RYT 200, The Ashtanga Intensive with the Miami Life Center and my 500 Hour Pranayama and breath work teacher training with Pranayama Sadhana in beautiful Bali. I do my very best to keep learning and attend workshops and trainings as often as possible. Some of these have been a 50 Hour Adjustment training with the incredible David Swenson, a Yin level 1 and 2 training with Yogaveo, breathwork Master training with Dan Bruhle and the Oxygen Advantage training with Patrick Macgowan.

04/03/2026

My body is probably the most remarkable thing I own.
It carries me through the world. It learns. It adapts. It surprises me. And most days, it allows me to move in ways that still feel like a small privilege.
So I try to use it. To move it. To explore what it can do. To keep it curious.
Not every sensation is pleasant. Sometimes the body is tired. Sometimes something aches. Sometimes you meet a limitation you would rather not meet that day.
But that, too, is part of having a body.
Movement isn’t always about feeling perfect. Often it’s simply about being in conversation with yourself — noticing what’s there, working with it, respecting it.
Strength, flexibility, breath, resilience… they’re all things we build slowly. Over time. With patience.
And if we’re lucky, our bodies will keep teaching us for a long while yet.
So move them. Use them. Take care of them.
They’re extraordinary things to live inside.

03/03/2026

2°C water in Norway.
I wish I could say I entered it gracefully. I didn’t. My whole body reacted exactly as it’s designed to — sharp inhale, racing heart, every instinct saying leave immediately. And yet… I stayed.
Not because I’m particularly tough. But because I’ve spent years studying and practising the breath.

As I stood there, I could feel everything we teach in the training unfolding in real time. The gasp reflex. The spike in stress hormones. The narrowing of attention. And then — the choice.
Slow the inhale.
Lengthen the exhale.
Let the nervous system settle instead of escalating it.
It wasn’t dramatic. It was subtle. A shift from panic to presence.

That experience has changed the way I’m editing our Breathwork Facilitator Training manual this week. It’s no longer just anatomy diagrams and physiology notes (although yes — we go deep into respiratory anatomy, the diaphragm, oxygen and CO₂ dynamics, nervous system regulation, female health considerations, breath testing, assessment protocols and applied breathing techniques).
It’s lived.

In the training we explore the history of breath practices, the science behind them, the health implications, the testing metrics, and we actually practise the protocols — not in perfect studio conditions, but in ways that build real capacity.
Because breathwork isn’t interesting when it’s comfortable.It becomes powerful when it works under stress. Cold water simply reminded me why I care about this so much.

Our next training begins in April. If you feel curious about understanding your breath properly — structurally, physiologically, practically — I’d love to welcome you.
This is work I believe in deeply.
And I’d be honoured to share it with you.

25/02/2026

The work may be individual. The laughter is always shared.

There’s something honest about being upside down. The first photo looks steady, and it is — but that steadiness is hard-earned. Balance isn’t something anyone can give you. When you’re inverted, it’s your strength, your focus, your ability to stay calm when the ground is no longer where you expect it to be.

That part is always individual.

And yet, we practise beside each other for a reason. Not because it makes the work easier, but because it makes it richer. When the inevitable wobble comes — and it always does — it helps to be surrounded by people who understand both the effort and the absurdity of it.

The discipline is personal.
The laughter is shared.

Both belong.

We’ll be announcing our next retreat very soon. If you’d like more of this — the work, the wobble, and everything in between — stay in touch.

21/02/2026

I’ll be teaching an Ashtanga retreat from July 11th at Yoga in Salento in Italy, and it’s truly open to all people and all levels.

If you’re new to Ashtanga, the Mysore-style format allows you to move at your own pace with individual guidance. You don’t need to know the sequence or be experienced — just willing to begin. If you already practise, it’s a chance to refine the foundations and deepen your understanding in a focused but supportive setting.

Beyond the mat, it’s also a week in southern Italy — good food, sea air, rest, and the kind of connection that naturally happens when people practise and holiday together.

The first spots are already booked, so if you’re feeling the pull, do get in touch or ask any questions.

20/02/2026

Another year another Utthita Hasta Padangustasana.

Finishing another retreat with Joseph and Edgar and feeling that particular fullness that only shared practice seems to bring.

What stays with me is never just the schedule, the postures, the early mornings or the late conversations. It’s the people. The way a group of individuals arrives as strangers and leaves woven together through breath, effort, laughter, vulnerability and the quiet courage of showing up.

Community is not simply being in the same room. It is choosing to be open. It is allowing yourself to be seen in your strength and in your uncertainty. It is listening deeply when someone else speaks from their experience, even when it differs from your own. It is practising acceptance — not as a concept, but as a living, breathing act.

Friendship grows quickly in these spaces because something honest is required of us. We practise side by side. We eat together. We support one another through challenge. There is encouragement without competition, guidance without hierarchy, and love without condition.

Open-mindedness is not passive. It asks us to soften our edges. To question our certainties. To hold tradition with respect while remaining curious. To recognise that there are many paths, and that each person’s journey is valid.

And love — not the loud, performative kind — but the steady, generous love that says: you belong here. Exactly as you are.

I am endlessly grateful to share this work with Joseph and Edgar, and to witness how powerful it is when people gather with sincerity and heart.

Until the next one 🤍

19/02/2026

Strength can be soft, and perhaps that is the version we do not celebrate nearly enough. We are so often taught to associate strength with force, with pushing harder, with loud determination and visible effort, yet so much of real strength lives in quieter places. It lives in patience, in consistency, in the willingness to stay present when things feel uncomfortable or uncertain. It shows up in the small, unglamorous moments of practice, in the decision to return again and again, and in the courage to listen rather than to dominate.

There is a deep steadiness in this kind of strength, one that is not interested in proving anything but instead in supporting, refining, and holding. This is the kind of strength many of us recognise as feminine strength: grounded, intuitive, responsive, and quietly powerful. It allows space for growth, chooses kindness over harshness, and understands that progress is rarely dramatic but almost always gradual.

Real strength does not need to be sharp to be powerful. It can be calm, patient, and deeply rooted, and in that steadiness there is a quiet, unwavering resilience.
📸

18/02/2026

2°C water, –17°C air, a frozen lake in Norway 🇳🇴 My first ever ice bath, and somehow I stayed for two minutes.

I’ve spent years working with my breath, but this felt like the moment where theory quietly meets reality. The body reacts before the mind can catch up — every instinct says hurry, tense, escape.

And yet the breath is still there, waiting.
A slow inhale. A longer exhale. Again. And again.

Gradually the sharp edges soften. The noise fades. The urgency gives way to something steadier and surprisingly spacious. It’s humbling to realise how much power lives in something we do every moment without thinking.

And then, quite unexpectedly, there was real bliss. Even a gentle feeling of happiness, right in the middle of the cold.

I feel deeply grateful for this experience — one of those small, powerful moments that quietly stays with you.

Thank you to the staff and volunteers at Nøsen for making this possible and for guiding me — your words really helped. And thank you to the yogis who came along, cheered us on, and helped me get dressed afterwards!

17/02/2026

I used to think yoga would make life quieter.
That if I breathed deeply enough and stretched long enough, everything inside me would eventually settle into something neat and manageable.

But as a woman in my late 30s, the practice has become far less about quiet and far more about capacity.

Our bodies are not static places. They are cyclical, tidal, emotional archives. We don’t arrive on the mat as blank slates — we arrive as entire ecosystems. Sleep matters more. Stress settles faster in the jaw and hips. Recovery takes longer. Rest starts to feel less like laziness and more like intelligence.

Yoga stops being performance and becomes relationship.

A relationship with a body that is constantly renegotiating its needs.
A nervous system that would quite like to feel safe.
A part of you that is tired of striving and quietly craving steadiness instead.

You stop trying to conquer the body and start trying to listen to it. Strength becomes the ability to recognise when pushing is no longer the wise choice. Flexibility becomes the ability to stay present when things feel uncertain or unfinished.

Perhaps that is the real work of this decade — learning the goal was never to become perfectly calm or perfectly balanced.

It was to build a life where you know how to return to yourself, again and again.

And some days that return looks like strong vinyasa and steady breath.
And some days it looks like lying on the mat, staring at the ceiling, and realising that counts too.
📸

17/02/2026

Your practice is not meant to feel like a punishment.
It’s not a personality test.
It’s not a competition.
And it’s definitely not supposed to drain the life out of you.

Yes, discipline matters.
Yes, consistency matters.
Yes, we love a routine.

But if your practice never makes you laugh…
never feels playful…
never lets you be a bit silly…

we may have accidentally turned something beautiful into another thing on the to-do list.

Movement should fill you up.
It should give you energy.
It should make you feel more you, not less.

Sometimes practice is deep focus.
Sometimes it’s breath and stillness.
And sometimes it’s lying in the snow making snow angels fully enjoying the experience of life.

If you’re not smiling occasionally, gently ask yourself, Why am I doing this?

Joy is part of the practice too.

21/01/2026

In just 22 days we head to the magic of ❄️
Together with and , we’re travelling to Norway to teach our fifth retreat as a team.

While it’s our first time at Nosen, these retreats have always become so much more than time away to practise. Over the years they’ve held deep practice, quiet moments, laughter, lasting friendships, and memories that stay long after everyone returns home.

This year feels particularly special. Alongside Ashtanga, breathwork and meditation, we’re weaving in Yin yoga — a softer, more reflective counterbalance to the intensity of practice, perfectly suited to the stillness of a Nordic winter.

📍 Nosen, Norway
📅 Starting 13th February
✨ All levels warmly welcome

Come as you are. Leave feeling nourished, grounded, and deeply connected.

14/01/2026

Anyone else?
When your brain says “strong” but your luteal phase says “not today.”
If lifting or general exercise feels harder right before your period, you’re not imagining it.
Hormone shifts (hello progesterone, goodbye oestrogen) can mean less power, slower recovery, and a heavier-feeling body — and yes, they can also mess with mood, confidence, and self-worth.
It’s not weakness, It’s physiology.
Keep training but work smarter not harder ❤️

Adresse

Furstenstrasse 3
Bonn
53111

Webseite

http://katyschereryoga.com/

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