Tener Rogers

09/27/2026

“Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become." -James Clear, Atomic Habits

Back in the day, our sweet dog, Mila, would saunter in, circle her bed a few times, and scratch at the fabric before finally nestling in with a deep breath and a satisfying sigh of arrival. I've been missing that little ritual lately, and thinking about how she always took the long way around before letting herself settle into what she needed.

Perhaps, like Mila, things still feel a bit unsettled in your world, and you're circling around old habits you want to reclaim, or new ones you'd like to begin. I see you there, hovering at the edges of routine, perhaps continuing to adjust to autumn's rhythm or finding your footing after summer's scattered energy.

I've had my own false starts this month, as I try to carve out ten minutes of stillness each morning before the day sweeps me up, and find my way back to lifting weights. My strength routine slipped away somewhere between tapas and cobblestones on our trip to Spain last spring, and returning to it has been a humbling, slow re-acquaintance.

Life is full, y'all! We must be patient with ourselves as we take steps to shift our lives in the direction of our desires. And I'm reminded, again, that it's the small things done consistently that actually move us there.

This week, I invite both of us to take one small step toward what we want more of. The things that bring us home to ourselves.

Maybe it's five minutes of morning breathing before you check your phone. Or unrolling your yoga mat three times a week. Perhaps it's taking a walk outside instead of having an afternoon coffee, or reading a few pages of that book you've been meaning to open…instead of scrolling.

Here, at the end of September, let's stop circling and actually commit to things that will serve us. I'll be sitting with my morning quiet and picking those dumbbells back up.

I'd love to know:
What small step will you take this week?

09/21/2026

Just outside my window, our maple is revealing hints of her fall transformation — that brilliant display she'll offer before releasing her leaves. Autumn is edging her way in.

This week brings the arrival of Fall Equinox — a moment of balance between light and dark.
Tracking the steady rhythm of the year reminds me that, no matter what is unfolding in my life or the wider world, nature keeps perfect tempo. The sun sets, the moon rises, the tides ebb and flow. The seasons shift, and I'm reminded, with relief, that I'm only a small part of something much greater. That every life contains both shadows and light.

This year, as the clouds and shadows arrive, I'm keenly aware of the stormy feelings brewing in my heart. This has been a season of pulling up roots. Releasing old chapters. Letting go of versions of me that have expired.

Here's what I know to be true: we learn what truly nourishes us in times of turmoil and challenge, not the easy ones. When difficult seasons sweep us up, we can distract ourselves. We can avoid. Or we can choose what nourishes us as we step into our feelings instead of around them.

For some, nourishment looks like prayer or meditation. But as Rumi says, "There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground."

My go-to's? Time in nature. The crunch of the trail underfoot. Open sky. Pine in the air. Moments to feel my heart race and lungs expand, followed by time for yoga, quiet, and rest. Add a dash of connecting with friends and puppy snuggles, and my heart feels more at peace.

Figgy's First Flow 🐾
For fun this week, I combined two of my favorite things — yoga and our new little rescue pup, Figgy — and filmed her very first flow. She's a bit shy and timid, but already up to the regular puppy mischief: digging holes, chewing shoes, and eating more than her share of the pears in our yard.

This simple, no-props practice has one little reminder at its heart: step onto your mat regularly, even when life is full, distracting, and a little hairy. I hope it brings a smile to your face as much as it did mine. (link in my bio)

Happy Fall Equinox, y'all.
love, Tener 💜

08/24/2026

Some weeks feel quite steady, with things unfolding in a predictable rhythm.

And then there are weeks that knock your emotional socks clean off.

Late August, with her moves and shifts, often brings this swirly energy. And I'm feeling it all.

Ellis hit the road on Monday, heading back to Indiana and Purdue. His first solo trip across this beautiful, sprawling country. As he made his way, I found myself holding my breath and my heart, sending energy for smooth sailing. Already missing his bright light and the lift he brings to any room he enters. He made it safe and sound.

Then — after declaring, quite firmly, that we were NOT getting another dog — Ben and I both admitted the house was not the same without one. Turns out there was still plenty of love left for another rescue pup. So this Thursday, a little furry friend came home with us.
To close out the week, I flew east to help my mom pack up her home. After a lifetime spent in Virginia, she's headed to Florida with my younger sister and brother-in-law — all choosing more sunshine, year-round fishing, and a new chapter.

So I'm writing this from my mom's screened porch, looking out over the lake. Seven generations of my family have called Virginia home. I was the only one who pulled up roots and headed west after college — not the black sheep, just the one exception to a very long rule. Now, watching this southern migration unfold around me, I'm feeling it in a way I didn't expect. It's not just the packing and the boxes. It's losing my tether back — no more home base to fly to, no more sweet tea on this porch, cicadas at dusk, afternoons on the water. I'm holding tight to the memories made in the sweet South, even as the anchor comes loose.

So my heart is tender this week as my mom, sisters, and I sort through family things. Full. Bittersweet in the best and hardest way — all at once. Maybe you too are feeling the transitional energy of late August. If so, I'm sending you a little extra love and an invitation to lie down, connect with your own heartbeat, and restore yourself.

ps. If you want to help us choose a name for our timid, yet playful new pup - send your pick: Violet, Figgie, or Quinn.

07/21/2026

The Best of the Valley results are in!

With over 50 fabulous yoga teachers in the Wood River Valley, I'm humbled to learn I've been awarded
Gold 🥇 for Best Yoga Instructor!

This little Idaho mountain town has been my home for over 30 years. It's where Studio Ten was created, where every retreat begins as a scribble in a notebook, and where I still have the joy of teaching each week. Rooted here. Practiced everywhere.

So, whether you practice with me from home through Studio Ten, in person in Hailey, on retreat in Costa Rica or Mexico, want my Sunday "LoveLetters" in your inbox, or simply follow my social accounts — I appreciate you. Your support, curiosity, and trust have allowed me to build a life doing work that I genuinely love.

Onward to many more years of yoga, travel, and building the sweetest community of yogis I could ever imagine.

New here? Come say hello — link in bio to join my Sunday LoveLetters or see everything I offer, from online classes to retreats. xo

07/13/2026

This past week, Ben and I hit the road for a full-circle trip — back to the place, back to the music, where sparks first flew between us. ✨ Five days. Three shows under mountain skies.

The last night, we split the show in two. First set, up high at the back, taking it all in — the skyline, the stars, the crowd moving as one below. Second set, down front, shoulder to shoulder with friends — close enough to feel the bass in our chests. Two ways to truly embrace the experience.

A month ago, a beach trip with my mom re-inspired the whole idea of savoring. One night, we all gathered around the piano and sang — voices overlapping, harmonies sung at high volume. My mom, at 84, is still living so fully. Up late at the piano. Up early on the floor with the little members of the family, playing with toys. Bocce with the teens. Collecting shells with the littles. Playing spoons with such vigor, everyone scrambles for a seat at the far end of the table. 😆

It reminds me of something Hermann Hesse wrote:
"This day will never come again, and anyone who fails to eat and drink and taste and smell it will never have it offered to them again in all eternity. The sun will never shine as it does today."

This life is a wild and precious ride. And I feel it more deeply these days than before.

Maybe it's because I sit with impermanence every year on retreat, Day of the Dead in San Miguel, sharing stories and honoring the people we've loved and lost. Maybe it's because I live in a 130-year-old house, built by the town's mortician, one of the first settlers here in this little mountain town I call home.

But mostly, it's because I've loved people dearly and watched them cross over to another plane. And now, I'm watching my mom sing at the top of her lungs around a piano, not wanting to miss a single note. 💜

So, right here in the middle of summer, the middle of the year — may we lift our heads, take it all in, and notice something we'll never experience quite the same way again.

love xo

06/15/2026

Just home from a family beach trip, still knocking sand out of my shoes.

I'm already longing to be back.

The sound of the waves. Salt on my skin. The way time stretches when your days revolve around sunrise, movement, nature, and good company.

It's that feeling that keeps pulling me back to Costa Rica every January.

If you've been feeling that same pull… toward adventure, connection, a week that's genuinely just for you, my Costa Rica Yoga. Surf. Retreat is waiting.

🌊✨ Early bird discount ends soon. I'd love for you to join me.

// Costa Rica Yoga. Surf. Retreat.//
January 16-23
January 23-30
January 30-February 6

06/01/2026

Last Monday, my sister, Kendy, sent me the most beautiful, raw, and moving poem by Matt Moberg—a recovering alcoholic who turned to art as a way to cope with cravings while healing.

What I find extraordinary is that the moment Matt chose recovery and stopped numbing his life, a portal opened. When exposed to the fullness of life—all of it— he suddenly felt the immense depth of beauty, awe, joy, tenderness, astonishment, gratitude, and the sacredness of this life. And words and color and music poured out of him.

To read Matt's poem "All've It" head over to my blog (https://tenerrogers.com/blog/). And to learn more about Matt Moberg's story, painting, writing, and music, go here (https://www.mattmoberg.net/). (fyi - his peepers will knock your socks off!)

05/21/2026

Happy Golden 21st birthday, sweet & spicy Mason!
I'm so grateful to be your Mom.

I love you, Munks...to the moon & back again. xo

05/10/2026

Today, I raise a cold glass of sweet tea with extra lemon and crushed ice to my beautiful, nurturing, compassionate, creative, nature-loving mama on Mama’s Day.

Thank you, Mom, for teaching me to love the earth by taking me on walks in the woods and showing me nests, frogs, and the tiniest of flowers. Thank you for encouraging me to slide in the mud, play in the rain, and jump in the river. Thank you for making space for all the critters I brought home: hermit crabs, lizards, turtles, and even snakes. If anyone can embrace a moment, you can!

Thank you for showing me the joy of music by sharing your songbird harmonies and playing instruments with me. Our family sing-alongs — guitar strumming, washtub bass plucking, spoon playing, and clogging—are woven into the fabric of my being.

Thank you for teaching me that I can fix almost anything...from refinishing furniture to painting walls, hemming skirts and removing stains. (The sewing never really stuck, but you tried)

Thank you for being our nurse on call every time my kiddos get sick. Even if I think I know what to do, it just feels good to hear your voice and talk it through with you.

And thank you for your open-minded, steady support regardless of my crazy plans and adventures. You didn't even try to talk me out of my solo trip to Nepal at 28...which is hard to imagine now that I'm a mom.
You are a rockstar at holding space for dreams to grow and flourish!

I couldn't be more grateful and proud to call you Mom, and wish I could be in Virginia right now to wrap my arms around you. I love you to the moon and back.

oxox, Ten

05/07/2026