Hi!I'm Kamala

... about doubt, devotion, and discovering that the wisdom you seek is already within you.

For thirty years, I've lived in a small California ashram rooted in traditional yoga and mysticism, where I became a pujari, served through karma yoga, and taught at universities and conferences. I dove deep into the Bhagavad Gita from every angle — practical, traditional, academic, and Sanskrit language study.

I thought my path was withdrawal from the world. Then everything changed in one snowstorm.

A natural disaster devastated my town and shattered my understanding of how spiritual life was supposed to work. I was left questioning everything I'd believed about devotion and divine protection. If someone as committed as me could face such profound loss after a literal lifetime of service — what's the point?

That's when I shifted from serving the divine to serving people.  Real people. My neighbors who needed mutual aid, not prayers.      I walked away from my monastic identity and became the local yoga teacher, belonging to place in a new way.

Then along came Nischala Joy Devi. She found my work with the Gita to be compelling and aligned with her own heart-centered approach. We started talking, which became A Woman's Gita Podcast podcast - and we began our own translation for women.

I came back into the world not as a guru, but as a bridge-builder for teachers like you who know there's profound wisdom in these teachings but feel overwhelmed by where to begin.

Hello, I’m Kamala Rose —
and I want to tell you a story...

... standing on the banks of the Ganges at age four with my father, a Humanities professor and Fulbright scholar who had written his dissertation on the Upanishads. That sacred river planted something that wouldn't bloom for decades — a seed of knowing that there was something profound waiting for me in these ancient teachings.

But life took me through the ordinary Western path first. I worked in the LA music industry, but questions arose about meaning, searching for something I couldn't name. Then at 23, I happened upon a yoga class at a California ashram, where I heard the Yoga Sutras for the first time and simultaneously discovered "The Tao of Physics." The intersection of ancient wisdom and systems thinking ignited something so profound that everything shifted. I knew the best use of my lifetime would be to help people learn to meditate, and change the system that way.

I didn't just take a yoga teacher training. I didn't just read some books. I dedicated my entire life to this path — entering monastic life for what would become 30 transformative years. For three decades, I wrestled with the Bhagavad Gita in the way only ashram life allows: with complete devotion, endless time, and the luxury of diving deep without worldly distractions.

I studied with renowned teachers like Srivatsa Ramaswami, practiced sadhanas most never know exist, and thought I understood what spiritual life meant.

I was wrong — but beautifully so.

This is where it all started...

I left my ashram, my lineage, my entire known world to share what I'd learned. When the snowstorm hit, it became my time to reconsider if monastic life was still the right path — and the Gita itself guided me toward serving in the world. It hasn't been gentle — stepping back into a world that had changed completely while I was gone. When I entered monastic life, there were no laptops. Now I'm talking to AI and learning social media at an age when most people are settling into what they know.

But here's what broke my heart and brought me back: I realized how few modern yogis — especially the countless women becoming yoga teachers every day — had access to the ancient guides that had sustained me through everything. Teachers were struggling with the same questions I'd wrestled with for decades: Who am I to teach this? Am I qualified? How do I honor the tradition while making it relevant?

The difference was, I'd had 30 years in ashram life to work through these questions. They needed tools they could use immediately, in a Western yoga culture that thinks it can take only what it wants from this rich tradition. This course? It's my biggest gamble yet, and honestly, I'm still figuring it out as I go.

The leap that terrifies me (and might save you years of struggle)