Why My Yoga Notebook Smells Like Incense and Curry

When I signed up for my 200 Hour Yoga Teacher Training in Rishikesh, I expected to come back with stronger muscles, deeper knowledge of philosophy, and maybe a few new yoga pants. What I didn’t expect was that my trusty little yoga notebook—the one where I scribbled down Sanskrit names, philosophy notes, and my inner reflections—would forever carry the scent of incense and curry.

At first, I laughed it off. But now, every time I flip through its pages, I’m instantly transported back to those magical weeks of training in India. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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The Scent of Incense: Mornings in the Ashram

Our days began before sunrise. As the sky shifted from deep indigo to pale gold, the sound of temple bells and distant mantras floated through the air. We’d gather in the shala, barefoot and still a little sleepy, ready for pranayama and meditation.

Incense sticks burned in the corners, their smoke rising like whispers to the heavens. The fragrance of sandalwood, jasmine, and sometimes frankincense wrapped around us, softening the transition from the outer world into the inner one.

My notebook was always on my mat, ready to catch a passing thought or a line of wisdom from our teacher. Inevitably, it absorbed the scent of the incense—just like I did. For me, that smell became a symbol of sacred beginnings: a reminder that yoga isn’t just movement, but a practice of presence and devotion.

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The Aroma of Curry: Nourishment Between Classes

By midday, after hours of asanas, anatomy, and philosophy, our stomachs would start rumbling. The kitchen staff—kind souls who seemed to pour love into every dish—would prepare meals rich with flavor and tradition. Lentil dal, vegetable curry, chapati, and rice… always fresh, always fragrant.

We’d sit cross-legged on the floor, balancing plates in our laps, trading stories with new friends from all over the world. My notebook often came along, tucked under my arm, because inspiration doesn’t wait for the “right time.” Whether it was a reflection about a challenging pose or a sudden realization from a philosophy lecture, I’d jot it down—right there, amidst the smells of cumin, turmeric, ginger, and coriander.

That’s how curry found its way into my notebook, marking its pages with the scent of community, nourishment, and shared laughter.

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More Than Just Smells – A Sensory Memory

Some people keep photos of their travels. I have those, too. But nothing takes me back to my yoga training like opening that notebook. The faint perfume of incense reminds me of the discipline of early mornings, the stillness of meditation, and the devotion of chanting. The hint of curry calls to mind the warmth of Balinese or Indian hospitality, the comfort of communal meals, and the joy of friendships formed over spicy food and sweet chai.

It’s funny—what felt like an accident at the time has now become a treasure. My yoga notebook doesn’t just hold words; it holds experiences.

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The Notebook as a Symbol of Transformation

Looking at it now, I realize that the scents are more than nostalgic—they’re symbolic.

• Incense represents the spiritual essence of yoga, the reminder that practice goes beyond the physical and into devotion, mindfulness, and presence.

• Curry represents the earthly, human side of yoga—the nourishment, the community, the daily rituals that ground us.

Together, they tell the full story: yoga as both a spiritual path and a human experience.

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What My Notebook Taught Me

My incense-and-curry notebook taught me that yoga training isn’t just about learning postures or memorizing Sanskrit. It’s about living yoga. It’s about how you breathe, how you eat, how you connect with others, and how you carry those experiences with you—sometimes literally, in the form of a scented notebook.

When people ask me about my training, I always smile and tell them, “It changed my life.” But when I open that notebook, I remember how it did. Not through one single lesson, but through the small, everyday rituals that stitched the training together into something unforgettable.

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Final Thought: Embrace the Scents of Your Journey

So yes, my yoga notebook smells like incense and curry. And I wouldn’t trade that for the world. Because it means I was there—fully present in every meditation, every lecture, every shared meal. It means I lived yoga not just as a student but as a seeker, absorbing its wisdom with all my senses.

Next time you join a 200 Hour Yoga Teacher Training in Bali (or anywhere in the world), don’t just take notes. Let the smells, sounds, and sensations seep in. Because one day, when you least expect it, those subtle reminders will bring you right back to the mat, to the moment, and to the magic of your journey.