Jeannie Marron: Building Brave Space at Peaceful Chaos Yoga

Jeannie Marron's 30-year career in violence intervention and prevention might seem like an unusual precursor to opening a yoga studio, but it perfectly prepared her to create truly inclusive wellness spaces. As the founder of Peaceful Chaos Yoga in Connecticut, Marron specializes in trauma-informed, accessible yoga that serves populations often excluded from traditional studios. Her approach to "universal design" ensures that people of all abilities, backgrounds, and experiences can find healing and community.

August 20, 2025

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Interview

Jeannie Marron: Building Brave Space at Peaceful Chaos Yoga

What led you to create Peaceful Chaos Yoga and who did you create it for?

I created it for people that didn't think they could do yoga for whatever reason, whatever myth they bought into about yoga, about who can do yoga. Whether it was age, degree of flexibility, gender, body size, socioeconomic status. My goal is to really dispel the myth that exists about yoga.

Any yoga studio will say they love everybody, we're welcoming, we don't judge. But yet someone that doesn't fit into their idea of who does yoga walks in, and then they have a deer in the headlights look. Or they proceed to do class and do not offer any variations of poses. They suggest the person go someplace else, or I've heard of instructors literally going over to a person saying, "This isn't right for you" or "You shouldn't do that."

I walked into a class where one of the instructors asked midway through, "Is anyone here on their period?" and was expecting a response and didn't proceed to continue until people raised their hands. That's completely inappropriate. They could have just shared information about contraindications without singling people out.

I really wanted to create a space that served the people that were not being served at the typical studios in my general area. I wanted to create a space that was accessible as far as neurodivergence, visible challenges, trauma histories, in addition to dispelling the myths I described. I have a son with special needs and medical complexity. That's how I got into being a yoga instructor in the first place. I wanted to teach special populations specifically in addition to anybody else that walked through the door.

How did your son influence your approach to accessibility?

When my son was first diagnosed—he's going to be 16 next month—around five or six years old, even before the official diagnosis, we were seeking out sensory-friendly activities because I noticed how he responded in crowds where things were loud, things were busy, waiting on long lines.

While researching that, I came across an article that said yoga was particularly good for children on the autism spectrum because of the sensory input that they get from the poses, because it's repetitive practice, and it helps with body awareness and mind-body connections. I was like, "This is really great. I love yoga." So a local place was offering a weekend kids training, and I took that with the intent of really just wanting to know more about it so I could do things with him appropriately.

Although I really liked the training, it wasn't "sciencey" enough for me. I'm very much Type A, oldest child, went to Catholic school, I'm a Virgo—I like spreadsheets and color coding things. Since it wasn't detailed enough for me, I started doing independent studies, reading more, googling more, trying to find out more about this connection.

I had been practicing at a local studio that I had fallen in love with. They were going to be offering the regular 200-hour adult teacher training. I decided to sign up just to find out the science behind it. No intention of teaching whatsoever. Halfway through the program, I decided I wanted to teach, I wanted to teach full-time and I wanted to teach special populations.

How does your background in violence prevention inform your trauma-informed approach?

I think once I decided I wanted to actually teach other people, taking a trauma-informed training was a no-brainer. It affected me in several ways. First, I'm very conscious of how we get in and out of certain poses, and I'm conscious of when we use straps because I know how certain poses could look if the body wasn't clothed. I know how straps could feel very scary and confining if someone had been restrained.

Second is the language and vocabulary. There are words that can be triggering for people depending on their trauma histories. You can provide your participants agency and control over their bodies. I was trained in vinyasa originally with "inhale, move the body part, exhale, move the other body part." Even telling someone when to breathe can be difficult. So I don't always cue the breath like that depending on what class I'm teaching.

Some pranayama practices where you constrict the breath or hold the breath can elevate the nervous system and be very alarming. Some people continue to practice and find that sense of alarm goes away. Other populations, that might not work. I tend to avoid those completely.

What does "universal design" mean in the context of your studio?

When I was putting in the bathroom here and finding my accessible bathroom sign, which I'm so proud of, I found out that the term is universal design. It's almost like I have a universal design philosophy when it comes to yoga. I took all of that into consideration even when buying the props for the studio and decorating.

Our lights are dimmable and very soft. There isn't anything overhead. There's definitely no fluorescent lighting. The color scheme, the props—we have two different size blocks because some people have smaller hands and it's difficult to grasp the width of a standard block. Also, working with larger bodies, larger blocks between the knees or thighs can be uncomfortable.

We have kneeling pads, wedges for feet, wrists and knees, or the tailbones, two different size bolsters. When we reopened after the initial shutdown, many studios were not using their props—people had to bring their own. That's not accessible. I have people that come in with walkers or other assisted mobility devices. They can't carry a bolster. Nor can everyone afford to buy their own props.

How has leading with accessibility changed the experience for your students?

The average age of adults that come to this studio is late forties. We have a very large population of older adults, who have commented everything from "I love that I can get in here"—like literally make it through the doors—to their doctor being amazed at how much mobility they might have gained from an injury or building strength or working on their balance.

I had one client that was sent to pulmonary therapy and asked first day, "Well, I could just go to yoga" because they weren't doing anything different than she was doing here as far as breathing and breath practices. The people here also like that they're seeing people that look like them when they come in. Other people using a chair in class, as opposed to being the only person that needs to use the chair or the only person that needs help out to their car.

We've built a very strong community. Friendships have developed between the students themselves. We check in on each other. Most often people will say one or two things: that the studio is down to earth or they just really feel good and accepted here.

What's your approach to making yoga less intimidating?

There is a degree of casualness that many of my instructors and I give off in the sense that not all of our classes contain Sanskrit. I don't make people take off their shoes. Some of the older populations, it's difficult for them to get their shoes on and off. Why would I create another barrier for them?

I tell people, if you have a question or you're uncomfortable, say something. If we don't notice, don't feel that you have to be completely silent the whole time that you're here. There's a sense of being real. We may go into tree pose and my foot doesn't come off the floor every single time. I may fall out of it. And we all talk about how things are going to change from day to day, from week to week, regardless of how often you practice. Poses are going to look different on everyone.

People seem very appreciative of having a place where they can come and be themselves and not feel they have to look a certain way or act a certain way or perform a certain way.

How has this work transformed your own life?

Initially, one of the reasons I opened the studio was because the space I saw was literally three minutes away from my house. So it was a way for me to be physically more present with my kids, to not be driving around so much teaching at all these different places.

Theoretically it could help me be more present for my kids, but what I've noticed is I'm also more confident as a person, more confident as a teacher. I'm quicker to suggest to other people to reframe their language when it is self-deprecating. You know, between action and reaction, you actually have time to pause and think and take a breath. I've ingrained that more into my nervous system.

I'm more conscious of the little things where you can find joy. The reason why I named it Peaceful Chaos is because when I came up with the name during my very first teacher training, I learned that even with everything that's going on in your life, no matter what you're dealing with, you can find peace. Even if it is just for a breath. Maybe you can find peace each day if it's for five minutes.

Being a parent of a child with special needs, when they're younger, everything about parenting has to do with milestones. The milestones are different. The milestones may never be met. So you learn to celebrate those little victories, different from parents of kids without special needs or different abilities. Your definition of healthy changes. I think that also feeds into why I opened the studio and how I run the studio.

What would you tell someone hesitant to try yoga?

There's a type of yoga and there's a teacher for everyone. Whether it's body size, injury, anything else, it goes back to so much being emphasized on the physical practice, but it's not just about that. There are non-physical practices that they could do that's still yoga. Living in presence is yoga.

To come into a studio in a community space, it can absolutely be intimidating, but everyone was a beginner at some point and everyone has that fear to try something new. It's just a matter of being open to the experience really. There's so much benefit laying on the other side.

I try to have that extra patience with people who are new. I try to make them feel extra welcome and extra paid attention to if possible. Just reminding them that everyone's a beginner at some point and they can really benefit from the practice. Even if they don't necessarily have the best experience, there might be a better class or a better teacher that's more suitable to them. Keep trying and know that yoga is really for everybody and everyone can be a part of their practice.

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