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 ON THE MAT Listening to the Body & Living with MS Exclusive Interview with Sarah Thomas Featured in 'Innerviews' Hosted by Allié McGuire This conversation takes place not across a table, but on two yoga mats, where listening matters more than performance. Sarah Thomas joins me in a shared, embodied space to talk about yoga, multiple sclerosis, and what it means to stay connected to your body when it does not always behave as expected. What unfolds is not a lesson in poses, but a quiet reminder that wellness begins with compassion, presence, and permission to adapt. ALLIÉ: We are both sitting here not as a host and a guest, but as bodies that have lived a lot. Before we talk about any titles or diagnoses, can you tell me what it feels like to arrive on your mat today, right now, in this season of your life? What does that feel like, Sarah? SARAH: On my mat, in this present moment, I feel a sense of peace. The mat, for me, represents stability. In a world that feels very active right now, especially with the holidays and everything going on, it gives me grounding and stability, which brings peace. A little moment of peace, right here, right now.  ALLIÉ: I share that peace with you, and I love how you describe it as grounding. Literally being on the ground, but also how it pulls us into a space where we can simply be. I’d love to talk about your relationship with yoga, which began long before I met you, even before you consciously chose it through your mother and her prenatal classes. When you think back to that early imprint, what do you think yoga was quietly teaching you about yourself before you ever knew you would need it? SARAH: I think yoga was teaching me not to lose my childlike love of life as I moved into adulthood. When I think back to being a little kid doing yoga with my mom and her teachers, I remember the innocence and purity of the process, learning new things and always being a student. I love being a student more than being a teacher, because I’m always learning something. Even when I think I know something, I probably forgot it because of my MS. I love picking up a yoga book and going back to the beginning. There’s a sense of holiness there for me. I remember being four or five years old, doing yoga with my mom and her teachers. In my adult years, I still ask myself, what am I learning now? Where am I growing? Not just physically learning a new posture, but asking myself, can I meditate a little longer? Can I take it a little deeper than I did when I was four? That’s where it lives for me now, connecting childhood and who I am today. ALLIÉ: That’s so beautiful. I love the way you honor the beginning. So often we’re rushing toward the next thing, but finding strength and excitement where you started is incredibly powerful. SARAH: People rush too much to the end. Why? Be here. Be at the beginning. Be present. It will get there. Stay a seed. Don’t rush into becoming a tree. Stay a seed a little longer. Keep growing. Don’t get stagnant. Keep learning. ALLIÉ: You were also an athlete, a mover, someone who trusted their body. Then MS entered the conversation. As someone who lives with MS myself, I know how loud that moment can be when you first hear the diagnosis. What was the hardest thing you had to grieve about your body, and what did yoga eventually give back to you that you didn’t expect? SARAH: That’s always emotional for me. I felt like my body was no longer mine. I had done yoga, ballet. I felt empowered by my muscles, my movement, my ability to express myself. Then suddenly I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t turn a key. I couldn’t hold a coffee cup. I felt a deep sense of loss. But what I really lost was the illusion of control. Teachers had said it before, but I didn’t fully understand it. You think you’re in control, but you’re not. That illusion shattered, and it awakened me. Now I value everything my body can do, even the smallest things. On a bad MS day, when I turn the key in my front door, I cheer myself on. I celebrate it. My neighbor once asked why I do that, and I told them it’s because I value even the smallest motion. I don’t take my body for granted anymore. Walking. Touching. Feeling nerve endings in my fingers. Hugging someone. Placing my foot on the ground. Even if I’m using a walker, I’m still walking. It made me humble. I needed that.  ALLIÉ: I love how you said that you didn’t lose control of your body. You lost the illusion of control. How can you lose something you never truly had? That’s powerful. You didn’t just adapt yoga for yourself. You reimagined it for others through 365 Yoga Dream, chair yoga, your book, and inclusive practices. What was the moment when you realized this work wasn’t just personal healing, but something you were meant to offer outward? SARAH: I’ve always wanted to help people heal in some way. I love watching people move, find clarity, find peace. But I started noticing people with disabilities being ignored in classes. That didn’t feel right. Yoga is for everyone. Every body. Every color. Every ability. I kept hearing people say, “I do yoga, but the teacher doesn’t know what to do with me.” That’s when I thought maybe I could write a book, show a new way of practicing, and help people find relief from chronic pain. I had to change my own practice, and I wanted to help others see that you can teach a class where some people are on mats and some are in chairs, and everyone feels included. We do it together, as a community. ALLIÉ: Community is such a powerful word, especially within the MS community. Being able to serve in that way must be incredibly fulfilling. SARAH: It’s so fun. People meditate in chairs and say, “I didn’t know you could meditate in a chair.” You can meditate anywhere. Just breathe. Great teachers like Giovanni, who teaches accessible yoga, opened my eyes to new ways to serve the disability community. Teaching everyone, truly everyone, is a beautiful thing. ALLIÉ: You speak beautifully about celebrating small wins. Turning a key. Getting out of bed. Listening instead of pushing. Giving yourself permission. If someone living with MS or chronic pain feels disconnected from their body today, what would you want them to know about what still counts as strength? SARAH: Strength doesn’t have to look big or muscular. If you woke up today, opened your eyes, and took a breath, that means there’s purpose for you. Sometimes strength is sitting next to someone and breathing together. Living with MS is hard. You didn’t ask for it, but you are strong just for living with it. Holding a toothbrush can be strength. Splashing water on your face can be strength. Getting out of bed can be strength. Don’t discredit the little things. The little things are big things. Find strength there. ∎
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