The Tale of Two Cooks (And What It Means for Your Teaching)
I’m married to a man who owns a French restaurant, and I’ve spent a lot of time watching what happens in professional kitchens.
Here’s what I’ve noticed: the magic that happens during service depends entirely on the unglamorous work that happens hours before.
Picture two cooks starting their shift.
The first one walks into the kitchen at 5 p.m., and nothing is ready. The onions aren’t chopped. The sauces aren’t made. She spends the first hour scrambling: pulling ingredients from the walk-in, measuring, prepping, trying to get ahead of the dinner rush. By the time customers start ordering, she’s already frazzled. And when three tickets come in at once, she’s buried.
The second cook walks into a kitchen where everything is in its place. The vegetables are chopped. The proteins are portioned. The sauces are simmering. She looks at the board, takes a breath, and starts cooking. When the rush hits, she’s ready. She can actually focus on the food—on the craft—because someone else handled the prep.
In fancy French kitchens, they call this “mise-en-place”: everything in its place. But you don’t need a Michelin star to understand the concept. Every diner, every luncheonette, every neighborhood restaurant runs on the same principle: prep work makes service possible.
So why do yoga teachers think they should do it all themselves?
The Sunday Night Scramble
Here’s what I see over and over again with yoga teachers.
Sunday night rolls around. You’re teaching tomorrow morning, and you have no idea what you’re going to do. So you sit down to plan, and an hour later you’re still staring at a blank page, or you’ve gone down a rabbit hole of pose variations, or you’ve scrapped three ideas and started over twice.
By the time you finish, you’re tired. You haven’t practiced the sequence in your own body. You’re just hoping it works.
Then you get to class, and you’re not fully present—because part of your brain is still holding onto the plan, making sure you don’t forget what comes next.
That’s the first cook. Scrambling during service because the prep wasn’t done.
What “Ready for Service” Looks Like
Now picture a different week.
You open up a library of movement sequences that someone else has already built: balanced, tested, ready to use. You pick one that fits what your body needs today. You roll out your mat and practice it yourself. You feel where the transitions land, where the challenge is, where the ease is.
Now you know this sequence in your bones.
When you walk into class, you’re not holding a plan in your head. You’re not worried about forgetting something. You can actually look at your students. You can adapt in the moment. You can teach.
That’s the second cook. Ready for service because the prep was handled.
Why This Matters More Than You Think
When you practice a sequence before you teach it, you’re not just preparing your class. You’re maintaining your own practice.
I talk to yoga teachers all the time who’ve let their personal practice slide. They’re so busy teaching and planning and running from studio to studio that they never get on their own mat anymore. And then they wonder why they feel disconnected from the work.
Your practice feeds your teaching. But when you’re scrambling to plan, your practice is the first thing to go.
When someone else handles the prep work—when you can open a library and just pick something and practice it—you get your practice back AND your class is ready.
That’s not lazy. That’s professional.
“But Shouldn’t I Be Creating My Own Sequences?”
Sure, eventually. If you want to master the art of sequencing—really understand why certain poses follow other poses, how to build toward a specific outcome, how to create your own signature style—that’s deeper work. That’s what I teach in my mentorship program, Mastering the Art of Yoga Sequencing. Think of that as Julia Child’s kitchen: you’re learning to cook, not just assemble.
But here’s the thing. Even Julia Child didn’t chop her own onions every single time. Even master chefs have prep cooks.
Using ready-made sequences isn’t about replacing your creativity. It’s about handling the weekly grind so you have energy left for the creative work when you want to do it.
Some weeks you’ll riff and improvise and create something new. Other weeks you just need a solid class that you know will work. Both are valid. Both are professional.
Try This Before You Join Anything
Next time you sit down to plan a class, don’t start by thinking about what to teach. Start by asking: what does my body need today?
Practice something—anything. Even fifteen minutes. Then notice how much easier it is to plan when you’ve already moved your own body and connected.
The prep matters. And you deserve to walk into service ready.
The Prep Station: Your Teaching Sous Chef
If you’re tired of being the first cook—scrambling, stressed, never quite ready—I built something for you.
The Prep Station is $39 a month. You get:
- A movement library full of sequences you can practice yourself and then teach
- Monthly class themes so you’re not staring at a blank page
- A live class each month to take as a student
- CEUs just for being a member-three hours for every month you’re in
It’s the prep work, handled. So you can focus on the actual teaching.
