Returning to Remember: A Journey of Wholeness with Itzel Hayward
Interview by Heather Anderson
For nearly a decade, Itzel Hayward has been quietly transforming lives through her healing work as a Yoga teacher and therapist, meditation teacher, facilitator, and guide. Known for weaving compassion, presence, and deep cultural awareness into every offering, Itzel has supported a broad range of individuals, collectives, and organizations. In this intimate interview, we explore the profound philosophies that anchor her practice, her three-year ashram immersion, and the soul-stirring retreat she's leading in Ghana this year.
How would you describe the work you do through Attuned Living?
Attuned Living has really evolved over the years. At its core, it brings together all the ways I’ve been called to serve: Yoga teacher, Yoga therapist, meditation teacher, coach, facilitator, and advocate. Whether I’m supporting individuals or organizations, the goal is the same: to help people reconnect with themselves and with each other.
Sometimes that means holding a holistic healing session at a community center. Other times, it's offering end-of-life support for the dying and their families, or leading a retreat for government executives struggling with communication and leadership. Whatever the setting, I try to create space for mindfulness, somatic awareness, and compassionate communication, all grounded in justice and collective liberation.
“My intention is to guide people back to that knowing—to help them remember that they were never broken to begin with.”
What do you hope people walk away with after working with you?
I want people to walk away feeling more connected, both to themselves and to others. We live in a society that actively works to sever that connection—even more so in the case of people who hold historically marginalized identities.
In a workshop recently, I posed the question: What would happen if we all felt fully connected to ourselves and one another? The truth is, our society isn't built for that. Disconnection is essential to how our current economic system is meant to operate. Capitalism doesn’t benefit from people feeling grounded and whole. It thrives when we feel like we’re missing something.
So much of what we consume tells us we aren’t enough, that we need to buy or achieve or prove something to be whole. But the truth is that wholeness is already who we are. One of my teachers once shared a metaphor that really stuck with me: when we buy something and get that little dopamine hit, it feels like a high. But it’s not actually a peak—it’s just filling a hole. The joy we feel in those moments isn’t new—it’s a return to what’s already ours. “The joy you feel when you buy the item,” she said, “that’s your natural state. The item just brings you back to where you already were before society convinced you otherwise.”
My intention is to guide people back to that knowing—to help them remember that they were never broken to begin with.
You mentioned your own journey to wholeness began in a moment of unraveling. Can you share what that was like?
It came after a season of loss: a relationship, a beloved family member, even my home. I was grasping for anything outside of myself—people, experiences, anything that would distract me from my current experience. There was this moment of clarity where I had a powerful experience of really seeing myself and what I was doing and thinking, "This isn’t okay."
I started reading books on Buddhism and found myself resonating deeply with the teachings. That led to studying with Buddhist teachers, then to Yoga, and eventually to leaving my legal career and moving into an ashram for three years.
Living in the ashram was transformative. It grounded me in the understanding that I had always been whole. We all are. The human experience is simply that we forget.
What did you discover while living in the ashram?
I felt a sense of being connected to everyone and everything—past, present, and future. But I also realized something profound: you don’t have to give up anything to arrive at this knowing. Leaving my career and moving into an ashram had been a big part of my path, yes, but it’s not the only way.
I became a teacher because I wanted to offer that insight. You don’t have to retreat from the world to find yourself. We can access our wholeness from exactly where we are.
How did you start bringing that sense of wholeness and self-connection to others?
It started with nonviolent communication—also called compassionate communication—which is really about learning to listen beneath the surface. Just teaching people that every action we take, no matter how messy, is an attempt to meet a core value or need. It was a language and a practice for reclaiming empathy for others, but also for ourselves. Sometimes it was just teaching people, "You’re a human being with feelings, and that’s okay."
I apprenticed under master teachers for years, gradually stepping into leadership. That model of learning by doing, slowly, with guidance, shaped my teaching. From there, I began weaving in Yoga and somatic practices into what I shared, eventually creating a trauma-informed, body-based way of helping people listen inward.
How did your Yoga journey begin—and come full circle?
My first Yoga class was with my mom when I was just three or four years old. We lived in New York, and she took me to a "mommy and me" class at the Integral Yoga Institute. I remember giggling in cobra pose together and just loving it.
Years later, as an adult working in a high-stress, high-stakes field, I found myself back in Yoga—this time at a gym, just trying to manage stress. But something deeper called to me. I looked for more—and discovered that the Integral Yoga Institute had a center just blocks from my apartment in San Francisco. The same lineage, decades later.
That first class in SF was profound. It was more than a workout. It helped me slow down, breathe, and simply be. I ended up volunteering and taking classes there for over a decade before moving into the ashram. It was like coming home to something I had known all along.
What kind of Yoga do you share today?
My Yoga classes are deeply informed by the Integral Yoga lineage, and are gentle, slow, and deeply somatic. They're trauma-informed and accessible, focusing on nervous system regulation and inner listening rather than complex poses.
My teachers worked hard to preserve the South Asian roots of Yoga. For me, it’s not just about what happens on the mat. It’s about how we show up for ourselves and others—how we live with integrity and presence.
Let’s talk about Ghana. What inspired you to lead a retreat there?
When I first landed in Ghana in late 2023, I felt something shift inside me. It was visceral. It was like I could finally breathe. There was a shedding of identities that had been placed on me—especially the weight of being Black in the U.S.
My Tía Julieta, who’d passed away earlier that year, at 97, had previously traveled to Ghana, where she participated in the opening of an elementary school. She was a world traveler and I loved her so much. When I was there, I felt her presence with me. Being on that land, feeling guided by my ancestors, immersed in the culture and the history—so much pain, but also so much triumph—was deeply healing. I knew I had to bring others.
You say this retreat isn’t about wellness tourism. What do you mean by that?
Wellness tourism often centers individual comfort, escapism, and consumption. Aside from stripping away the roots of practices like Yoga, it also tends to ignore the cultural context of the places where retreats are held.
In this retreat, however, Ghana isn’t just a backdrop—it’s an active participant. Throughout our time together, we’ll be in relationship with its culture, its people, and its history.
What can participants expect from the retreat?
Together with my co-host, Ghanaian travel specialist Eunice, we’ve created something really intentional. Each day begins and ends with Yoga, breathwork, or grounding practices. In between, we’ll visit sacred cultural and historical sites like Cape Coast Castle and Assin Manso.
We’ll be guided by local historians and community members who can speak to all aspects of Ghana’s story. And we’ll also make space for joy—sharing meals, laughter, and reflection.
Ancestor work is woven throughout. We'll create space to honor those who came before us, whether through grief, gratitude, or listening. The goal is not just healing, but affirmation of life.
You mention ancestor work. Is this retreat only for people of Ghanaian or African Descent?
No, this retreat is open to anyone who feels called to engage with the experience with depth, respect, and a willingness to learn.
An integral part of the retreat is engaging meaningfully with the rich history of Ghana—and we can’t do that without acknowledging the stories it holds of global displacement and resilience. Walking on this land and hearing these stories will bring us face to face with both the pain and the power that have shaped the Black diaspora and continue to reverberate through generations.
While the retreat centers Black diasporic experiences and histories, no specific ancestral connection is required. What matters most is how you show up. Participants—regardless of background—who come with openness and a sincere desire to deepen their understanding of themselves, of history, and of the world are all warmly welcomed.
Where can people go to learn more?
Everything about the retreat is available at www.Yogainghana.com, including the itinerary, accommodations, pricing, and photos.
And for people who are curious, we're hosting a free event called Returning to Remember on June 14. It'll be held both in-person and online. We’ll share a short breathwork or movement practice, talk more about the retreat, and offer gifts to in-person guests brought straight from Ghana. You can sign up at attunedliving.com/events.
Whether or not someone joins the retreat, what’s one simple practice you recommend for reconnecting to themselves?
Instead of describing it, I’d love to guide you through a practice so you can get a felt sense of it yourself. Are you open to that?
Sure, let’s do it!
First, make your body comfortable, whether you’re sitting, standing, or lying down.
Next, place one hand on your heart and one on your belly and close your eyes or soften your gaze.
Just pause here for a few breaths. Notice the gentle rising and falling of your chest and abdomen.
Now, gently ask yourself: “What part of me needs tending right now?” and take time to slowly scan the body with the mind’s eye. Once that part of yours becomes clear, don’t try to fix anything. Just notice. Listen. Be with it.
For the next few moments, simply offer it your non-judgmental presence. Let that part of yours know it belongs, exactly as it is. That it’s heard. That it’s sacred.
To close, bring the palms of your hands together and together, we’ll close as I always do: with a silent wish that all beings everywhere know peace, peace, and only peace.
And as you’re ready, gently raise or open the eyes.
So how was that?
Amazing. So simple and brief, but I honestly feel calmer and safe.
Beautiful. Yes. This simple act of tuning in—of offering your own self presence and care—is a radical return to wholeness.
Connect with Itzel Hayward at Attuned Living, on Facebook, X or Instagram.
You can also find her on The M List, The Mamahood’s searchable database of mom-recommended resources, or connect and collaborate with her inside The Club membership for women Founders.