I wanted to make a little update here to remind myself what it feels like when my meds are working. I started taking them again three days ago, which I do not think is long enough to take effect, but then again maybe it won't take the full amount of time that it took the first time I began taking them, for it to be effective again. 

When I am correctly medicated, I have a brain that acts like I imagine a normative brain acts. I wake up and I am excited to do things that make me happy. I usually have a plan for how I am going to spend my time that day, whether I am working or off work. I have a kind of "set" variety of things that I regularly choose from: usually writing, cooking/meal prep/painting/going to the gym/or watching movies. Once upon a time I frequently included reading as a part of that list, but as my phone and social media habit has expanded, my attention span for reading has dwindled to an extreme low-- something I may delve into more in a future post. 

At the time when my business was more at the forefront of my attention, I spent at least two/thirds of any given "day off" doing business admin things, but as I have taken my hiatus that time is now freed up to do more fun and relaxing activities, which I have loved. 

Usually I am out of bed by 8 on a non-work day, and I spend about an hour making and drinking my two cups of decaf coffee and preparing something to eat for breakfast. On a work day I will spend the same hour in the morning, but add in packing a lunch as well as dressing and washing my face/doing makeup if I am wearing any that day. 

On a writing day I will either set up at the kitchen counter, since my work desk is currently not set up, or I will get dressed and go to my local coffee shop to work for a few hours, usually until lunchtime. On a gym day, I'll normally spend an hour after breakfast cleaning the house and then get into gym attire and drive to the gym. or if the weather is nice I will walk there.  Once, I walked there, but on the way home I was regretting that choice and have never done it since. 

On an art day I will often put on a movie and set up my art table in front of it, then spend two to three hours painting. I learned to paint only recently, by which I mean that my dear friend Kel took up painting during the early days of pandemic (I believe) and then when she was comfortable with her techniques, she started inviting me over for "art days." I hadn't really ever worked with paint and didn't consider myself much of a visual artist, but with her gentle guidance I started to feel comfortable putting color on a canvas. Now I partake in this activity with a regularity that would have shocked a two-years-ago me. I find painting to be a really good outlet for my feelings that are harder to describe with words. I wouldn't say that I am at any kind of expert level with it, but I am proficient enough to make things that I consistently like looking at and I am developing quite the collection of canvases and completed works on wood panels. 

The thing that surprised me the most when I went off my meds temporarily was how little I suddenly came to care about any of it. I had zero interest in making it to the gym, or working on my novel, or putting colors on canvases. All I had the energy for was to put something on the tv and lay on the couch and watch it. Mainly I was looking for escapism, I think. To a certain degree I wonder if this was why I voraciously read books as a kid and a young adult, in order to escape the dull mundanity that being low on serotonin feels like day after day. I certainly started to feel, in the past month when I was on my break, that every day felt so much the same, and I was not into any of it. 

I am very glad to be on the other side of that, and so very grateful that I have a much better understanding of myself now, of the need for the medication and that it is very real for me. I think the reason I had to take the break was to know that it was in fact doing something for me. It had been six years since I started taking them, as mentioned in my previous post, and I have done a tremendous amount of personal work in that time, including two rounds of personal coaching and several years of therapy, working with a business coach, starting an art therapy journal, and becoming a coach for others. But it is important for me to see that although the work I have done is very real, the meds were likely what made all of that work possible for me to do, and I would like to keep on being able to wake up every day and care about what I do with my time. During the past six years I have been able to set goals and reach them in a way that I never had prior in my life, and I have been letting the goal setting slide in favor of "just living" which has been good for me. 

Maybe it is time for me to start setting some small, attainable goals again. Maybe. Anyway, nothing profound to share here, just some minutia of my day to day that I wanted to record for myself. 

If you want to read some stuff that is more curated for public consumption, subscribe to my Substack below. I am going to try to have something published to share there about once every two weeks. 

https://open.substack.com/pub/noemieixchelsnowdance/p/getting-started?r=28qasw&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcome=true

Note: This Blog was originally created in 2010 for my first business, Zen of Self Yoga and Shiatsu. I have since owned three iterations of that business: Circle of Light Healing, Circle Reiki and Somatic Healing, and currently, Queer Ixchel Collective, which is an arts organization dedicated to teaching writing and the arts to Queer and Trans Youth. Therefore, the name of this blog will be changing, to an as yet determined title.

As of now, you can find me writing here, as well as at my writing/Poetry blog (Link to be inserted at a later date) and follow my Instagram accounts @hedonist_Utilitarian (personal) and @QueerIxchelCollective (business.) 

No Prozac Nation

I went off my antidepressant at the end of 2023. It was carefully thought-out and discussed with my doctor, a decision that I came to for various reasons– not least being that I wanted to see who I was without a pharmaceutical substance making daily changes to my brain chemistry. I started the process of titrating off of Prozac the day after Christmas; the winter holidays have been a trigger for my depression since I can remember feeling symptoms of depression in my adulthood. I took no pills on December 26th, then one on the 27th, and alternated days until the 10th pill had been taken, signaling that I could stop altogether. 

The first thing I noticed which was a hearkening back to a part of my personality that I had mostly left behind six years ago when I began the medication, was a quickness to irritation that seemed to be far outside the called-for amount of pissiness at a given situation. My brain became a petty and bratty teenager which must be reminded near-constantly that the person who would not let me change lanes in traffic nor the colleague who neglected to fill the towel cabinet with clean washcloths for the day were not trying to make my life a living hell.  The second thing I noticed was that my brain became a sailor-mouth. “Dammit”s and “Fuck this–” (fill in the blank) and “Jesus Hellraising Christ!”s were being dropped at the smallest of irritations, such that I was reminded of a time in the past when I would have been saying all of these out loud to whomever was there to listen. (A drugged-me will curse when it’s appropriate, but the old, pre-medicated Noemie would be dropping F-bombs like they were confetti at a wedding; only the wedding was my life, and I was marrying Satan himself.)

“Dense Fog Warning in Phoenix,” the Alexa’s screen in the kitchen read me a news headline of the day in mid-late January. “No kidding,” I thought. My brain had been clouded by a light to medium fog for three weeks already. That morning I had looked in the mirror while putting moisturizer on my face and thought, “Do I really have to do this for 35-50 more years?”

I was 47. Throughout my 20s and 30s, and into my early 40s I had often had passive-suicidal (I would later come to learn this term in therapy) thoughts. Those thoughts were not about actively wanting to die, but rather, not-actively wanting to live. I didn’t care much for anything, didn’t really have any passion-pursuits or hobbies, was generally bored most of the time, if I wasn’t in full angst or anger or morbid melancholia; or actively avoiding those thoughts and feelings by filling the void with love-addiction, casual sex, or shopping for things I could not afford to purchase. My main recurring thought– when I wasn’t busying my mind with obsessive-compulsive behaviors to numb-out– was “How much longer?” Life seemed to be one long slog that we had to trudge through to get to the end, which was the merciful, peaceful, and quiet-soothing relief of death herself. 

And yet. When my first Psychiatric NP told me she was prescribing me with Prozac, my first reaction was, “But I’m not depressed! I just have anxiety!” 

Yes, that crippling anxiety that would not let me have a peaceful or quiet moment where I was not catastrophizing or wishing that a bus would accidentally come up onto the sidewalk and swipe me out of existence, my brain that was missing a significant amount of the serotonin it needed to exist without near-constant crippling pain of existential underwhelm, was simple anxiety. [Was what that same brain told me to be true facts.] 

I am grateful that I was able to get the mental health care that I needed, finally, when I was 41 years old. That was the year I finally took myself to a mental health facility and said, “I need help. This isn’t working for me anymore.”

The first counselor I would see at said facility did an intake with me and told me, “You seem to be coping fine with all that you have going on. You have a job that you like and a relationship that you like, and you aren’t actively fighting with anyone in your life. I am not going to recommend further interventions or therapy for you.” For whatever reason (read: her lack of empathy/my inability to communicate just how hard it was to be inside of my brain) she could not see that I was constantly battling with the most important person in my life. ME. 

I am grateful that I was aware that the counselor was further off her rocker than I was and sought a second opinion.  I am grateful that the Psych NP that saw me next was able to recognize the signs of depression. I am, furthermore, especially thankful that I saw past my own stubbornness and took the damn meds she prescribed. 

For that I was rewarded with the past six years of my life, during which I stopped hating nearly everything and cursing everything and everyone that got in my way, including myself. I now have an excellent counselor who I’ve seen for five years on and off, and a very skilled Psychiatriatric provider, both whom can see I have made many internal and external changes (the details of which are for another post) which have led me to this decision to experiment with my brain to see if I still need to be medicated, and if so, is there another med that might be more fitting?

I have not yet decided how far I will take this experiment, but as of today I am leaning more towards taking the option to go back on something. I would rather be in a brain that says excitedly, “How many more years do I get to do this crazy game called life?” versus one that says, in full doom and gloom mode, “How many more years do I have to endure this terrible game we call life?”

I have my next appointment with my Psych provider in two weeks, and I am going to continue recording my experiences and my internal world in the little yellow notebook I selected during Christmas shopping for my honey, and which, fittingly, suggests, “Shine Bright” on the cover. Why yes, I think I will. 

  

A conversation with my guide

(This exercise was taken from a book called Awaken Your Genius, by Carolyn Elliot. I have been working my way through the exercises in the book, and it has helped me tremendously on my journey towards claiming my "healer" title. In this exercise it is suggested that you choose someone who you feel is a guide to you, either in your waking life or your dream life. This person can be someone who either attracts or repels you, either one can be a helpful tool to begin to see qualities about yourself that you would like to express more. This conversation is with one of my teachers, who is someone that I have felt very drawn to since I took my first class with her. The key is that you write the whole conversation yourself, by telling that person what you admire/dislike about them, and then asking them what they would like you to know and writing their answers to you in their voice. It seems a little crazy at first but it was a very powerful exercise for me.)

Me: You are so inspiring to me. Your heart shines through your words and your face, and it makes me want to always be around you. I feel inspired by your dedication to your craft and by your obvious dedication to your inner journey. What do you want to tell me?

Her: You too can be open and loving towards yourself in the ways I have learned to be. I was not always this way. I used to hurt and feel unworthy. I used to self-harm and doubt myself. I would smoke and drink too much just like R. did and like you did, because I did not know how to deal with the feelings that were inside of me, burning me up from the inside. I had to do a lot of meditation, near-constant meditation and chanting, Asana is only a part of it-really the joy I feel is found on breaking through the deep sadness and the darkness inside of your heart.

First, you have to forgive yourself.

Me: I put you on a pedestal. I think you are a better, more advanced person than me. In my admiration of you, I forget that you and I are the same. I forget that we are one being and I can learn and unlearn the behaviors that I want to become in order to be more like you because I already have that inside me.

When I place you above me, I continue the story that I am not good enough to do what you do. If I can drop this story, and know that I am as good and pure and wise and true as you are, I can drop the illusion that I am not good enough. I would like to drop the illusion and become my highest potential, which is to be a conduit for others’ healing.

Her: Yes! When you drop the illusion that you are not good enough, you open to the potential in the universe. The universe wants you to heal and become your highest self so that you can also help others become their highest selves.This is your true potential. You have this gift too, I know because you are talking to me. I know that you have the ability to create and to grow this.

Reading what Roxanne wrote to you last night, you know that is also true for you. You already have the gifts. Now you just have to deeply believe that your gifts will bring people to you and that those people-- the ones you are helping with your gifts, will compensate you for them. You will be provided for with abundance. I am so excited for your journey with this!

Take this owl bracelet and wear it each day to remind you that you have the divine knowledge and the gifts you will need to bring forth this future.

You have incredible power within you to bring about deep healing for your clients and those you come in contact with. That is why people are drawn to you. That is why people want to be in your energy. You have already done much of the work that allows you to reside in this higher energetic plane. Now it is your task to bring that gift to others, with joy and light.

Press Here to Open

I've been thinking a lot about doors lately. This is mainly due to the fact that when I enter my workplace, I have to enter through one heavy fire-door, then scan my access card, and pass through another heavy fire-door; then if I choose to take the elevator, which I have been keen to do lately, I have to go through a series of two more sets of doors just like the first until I finally reach the area where my office is, where there is yet another heavy door that I then prop open each morning with a door stop. Each of these door sets are big and very heavy and I am usually carrying a heavy load with me (metaphorically and otherwise) and-- more often than not-- trying to balance a cup of hot coffee in one hand along with my phone in the other hand when I enter the building each morning, and so opening all of these doors has become something of an annoyance to me. Each morning my mind goes immediately to thinking  as I pull the doors open, "Why should they make it so HARD just to get into a place that I don't even want to be?" Queue the "Poor me, wah, wah," strings section of the orchestra. 

Mind you, having worked here for almost seven years, I spent the first six of them exclusively taking the stairs, because why should I make anything easy on myself? I think that I must have wanted for things to be hard, in some subconscious way. I must have thought that I deserved to struggle somehow, or that I would be rewarded in the spiritual realm for all my hard work. (Look at me, how I choose to take the hard road; look how determined I was to make things more challenging/difficult for myself. Surely someone will notice eventually how much I struggle, and therefore all of my efforts will be rewarded.)

This may be reaching, but eventually one day I realized that there is really nothing wrong with allowing the technology that we have (i.e. The Gifts of our Present Circumstances- in this case the gift being the elevator) carry us. I started going through those extra sets of heavy doors each morning in order to allow my body to be gently transported up to the second floor in mere seconds, and with hardly any effort to speak of. And for a while this felt like a nice respite from carrying myself and my heavy load up the stairs each morning. Until, eventually,  I started to feel annoyed by those pesky heavy doors. Soon those doors started to bug the shit out of me, and I began to really resent the doors for the barricade I imagined them to be in my professional life. I hated the doors for making things harder for me. Now I was finding myself feeling angry at the doors for their very existence. Of course I knew that it wasn't really the doors I was angry with. I was mad at myself for allowing myself to remain too long in a situation that was no longer serving my highest good, and I was using the doors as a metaphor to represent all that was holding me back from doing my dream.

Every morning I would literally think, "Fuck these doors," as I struggled to balance all of my crap in one hand and pull them open, one after the next after the next, becoming increasingly agitated until finally I arrived at the door to my office. And I'd sit down at my desk and begin my day mired in that pool of negativity.

One day as I was entering the building, I happened to be following closely behind Alan, a man who uses an electric wheelchair to get around due to being unable to walk & limited use of his arms/hands. I observed as he pushed the button for the automatic door-opener that is placed halfway up the wall for those using wheelchairs, and I watched him sail through each of these same doors I had struggled with (and-increasingly- hated) for the last 6 months. Before you start thinking too highly of me, this isn't some big revelation about how I came to understand the gifts of being able-bodied. This is simply a matter of a change in my perspective. 

 Seeing Alan breeze through this process that had been such a bear for me those past months allowed me to realize that those buttons work for everyone, not solely those on wheels. And so the next day I pressed the button and watched as the electric door magically opened for me to pass through. And then I did the same for the next door, and the next, until I arrived at my destination, and I thought ”Wow, that was exceedingly easy!” And then I did the same the next day. Eventually I came to realize that those buttons had been available to me all along, all I had to do was to notice them, and then choose to press them.

And now we come to the metaphorical part of the story. I started to apply this magical button-thinking to other areas in my life. Where else was I struggling and pushing too hard and getting mad when I didn't have to? Where were the "Press Here" buttons in my psyche that I could apply just as simply as pushing a button with my index finger, to open those doors which I was struggling so much in my mind just to walk through?

Over time I started to see the places where my own mind, in the form of fear, self-doubt, and unworthiness were holding me back from getting through to the other side where I dreamed of being. 

And so now here I sit, about to embark on a fresh path, where I will undoubtedly encounter more heavy doors. But I am hopeful that I will be more willing to spot the places where there is a sweet "press here to open" button. I intend not to let heavy doors hold me back anymore. Surely there is nearly always a "Press here to Open" button available. I may just have to look around a bit to find it. 

A little Caterpillar Action

"What if you could see your current obstacle as a sign of transformation? Because, when you set an intention for growth you also manifest the obstacles that have been obstructing your path to freedom...don't let yourself get hung up on the upset." http://www.robinhallett.com/

Lately I have been working to allow what my teachers teach to flow through me into action. I have several inspirational thoughts posted around my bedroom to help me think positively about my future and my possibilities, to try not to lock myself into one particular thing or to think of myself as limited. I know that I am limitless (Thanks to Lisa Hecke, my teacher, my friend, for that particular refrain that has been intermittently running through my mind since this summer when I did some vision boarding workshops with her and Heather Janesky) and that I have gifts to share with the world, they are singing to get out. Right now they are like a bird who has been caged for the last 6 years (I know why the caged bird sings, yes, I know a tired metaphor when I see one, but it's apt) and it's time to let that bird be free. 

It's time to start leaving the door to the cage open, and letting the little bird take some trips to see what she can give the world. I know I have been taking these little journeys all along the way, and that, in reality, I have never been "stuck" as my mind tries to name it, only ruminating, marinating, learning, getting stronger, and preparing myself for the next step in my journey. A little bit like a caterpillar in her cocooned state, I have been transforming myself in my chrysalis for a long winter and now it is time to eat that shell (did you know that baby monarch butterflies EAT their chrysalis when it's time to become a butterfly, so they can create the fat stores they need to fly across the continent and mate and lay their own eggs to create the next generation of butterflies?) But I digress...

Very Lovely Artwork by Robinhallett.com

I came here to write this--

A very Personal Ad: ( I'm flagrantly borrowing this concept from Havi Brooks as seen in the Fluent Self)

What do I want?

I want to remember that I am okay. I want to give myself the space to work on my work and to study what I want to study and to learn about what it will take to make this next leap of faith. I want to open up the window so I can let the light in to grow my soul & get ready to be a butterfly. I want... a sunny room to sit and write surrounded by plants where no one will bother me for hours at a time. I want someone to bring me coffee.(I took a break from writing this and got my own coffee.)

I want to be the yoga I want to see in the world, as my teacher Izzi says... I want to be the change... I want room to grow, I want time, time, time, and a room of my own. I want to write and heal and love and drink coffee. That's what I want.  And I want security of knowing that I will be taken care of, that health care will fall into place when I need it, for me and my kids. I want to know that the rent is paid for the next six months one year, and that I don't need to worry about my needs being provided for, because I can trust that I am taken care of. I want to trust that I am taken care of. 

And I want good sleep, without drugs. And I want someone to make me breakfast. 

It seems that I already have the sunny room to sit and write uninterrupted for hours... it's just that it's in an office building where I lack the freedom to move around, or have appointments at my leisure. SO I ALREADY HAVE one of the big things I am asking the universe for...It's just that I need to transmute it to a different physical place on the planet. 

Maybe I need to frame this space in a different way. I am in actuality, currently getting paid to work out my kinks... to figure out what my next step is. That is precious, and I am grateful to have it. It's just that I can't bring myself to care anymore about deadlines, or about quality of work, or about... anything about being here really, and that is a major indicator that it's time to move on. That I have learned the lessons I needed to learn from this place, the Universe is sending me on my way now, with a fully packed lunch box and a pat on the behind. It's telling me, "You'll be okay, dear! I've got your back, and I will be here with milk and cookies when you return from your adventures." 

I want to have a safety net, a safe place to land. And it's so freaking scary to feel that I don't have that. And I know that as long as I harbor that fear, then that safety net will not exist for me in any tangible form. Except that it does, I know that we are all taken care of in exactly the ways that we need to be...I just need to find some courage to make the leap of faith that I have been wanting to take for the past 3 years. 

But I am fearful of becoming so attached to the security of this space, and this paycheck, let's be honest, that I won't see when it is clearly time to move into the next thing. How will I know when it's Time?

Is it when my boss decides that he is moving to another university in another state? Is it when I get an offer to do another job here that in all likelihood will not afford me the time to think and write stuff out like this? Is it when I feel so trapped within my own thoughts that I imagine going into the bathroom and screaming at the top of my lungs? Do I have to wait here until I do something stupid enough to get me fired? No, I need to pull up my big girl panties and walk out that door. Or, rather walk through that door, and place that Letter of Resignation on my boss's desk. 

"This situation, like all situations, will turn out to have been remarkably useful, and slightly future me will glow a <3 thank you" (--Havi Brooks) Yesterday, post yoga I had this moment of PURE THANKFULNESS...for all that is in my life right at this moment and all that has ever been. Because I had an understanding that all that has ever been is what has created this me, that exists right now, and I was able to see in the purity of the light in the yoga studio, with all of my "junk" washed away, that I am that pureness, and that so are you. And I was able to see that my path that I have been walking is the right one and that I have actually always been on it, even when it feels scary and dark and wrong. We are never on the wrong path for our spiritual growth.. One of my many post-it notes that hang on my bedroom says "I am exactly where I need to be...right now." And another one says "I love myself for exactly who I am today." 

What do I want?

I want to embrace the capacity to grow and change, and I want to have the time to put effort into that change. I want to be able to have a quiet safe little cocoon of blankets to wrap around myself when I am needing a dark room to run to. I want to have a soft bed to land on. I want strong arms around me and I want to recognize my own strength, my own capacity for holding my own self. 

When our practice brings us something unexpected

Something that yoga people often talk about is "beginner's mind," which refers to the idea that even when you are a teacher, or a seasoned practicioner, every time you come to your mat your practice has something new to offer you. Even when you think you know what you are getting into, even when you think, "This is old hat," or "This teacher isn't giving me what I need," (perhaps especially if your mind is telling you those things) it is a good time to step back from your ego and say, "This is a new experience." Every moment is a new experience. Even when you think you know what is going to happen, you don't.

Last night I attended a yoga class I don't usually go to, with a teacher I am not as familiar with. In the beginning of this class, I realized it was a Hatha class, not a Vinyasa or Flow, which is my preferred style of practice. (Hatha tends to be a more slow-paced class, suitable for beginners AND those who have been practicing for a while. More time is spent in each pose, without the use of a chaturanga dandasana flow to move between poses.) And with that realization a familiar annoyance crept up. The one where I thought, "I wanted a Vinyasa class, why didn't I pay more attention to the schedule?" Perhaps due to my rushing through the day, not really looking at what I was doing carefully? Ego-check number one.

The other annoyance that crept in was annoyance at the teacher, for not being my familiar teacher, for not saying the things I wished she would say (that which I am familiar with) and because she was standing at the back of class, where I could not see her, and naming the poses with their Sansrit names, not all of which are immediately recognizable to me...So I found myself in a beginner's mindset, not by choice, but forced there by circumstance. I had to look around class and few times and see what other people were doing, before moving into my version of the intended pose. Me! Who is a teacher! Who teaches her VERY OWN CLASS! Every single Saturday! (Ego! Ego! Ego!)

It's easy to fall into a mindset where we think we know all we need to know about our practice. In that mindset, practice becomes rote, we are just going through the motions, and this is no longer yoga. (Remember that yoga is the union between mind and body.)

In yoga we are striving (or maybe not striving, striving sounds like we are working too hard-) we are allowing ourselves the opportunity to listen to the body's own intuition, to the inner healer that resides within each of us. With every practice, every time we step onto our mat, we are given a unique opportunity to learn something about our Ego, and something about our True Self (Or higher self, the Ishavara Pranidhana we seek on our mats is the surrender to God/Higher Self/Source/Universe.) If we can open up that door in our heart space enough to be present, and listen for it. It is there. It whispers to us through the words of our teachers, as we close our eyes and focus our dristi, our gaze, to a centered point.

Something I did in this class to help myself along this journey was to say the words to myself, when I found my Ego being bothered that this teacher wasn't "doing things right."

"This teacher is good teacher. She, as every human, has something to offer me. I allow myself this opportunity to learn from this person."

Before I knew it I was having an amazing release on my mat. Which is to say, I found myself crying in a pose. It was a simple pose, one that is not hard for me to do at all, but which I do not practice often. I moved into it with ease and then tears sprang to my eyes. They were tears of release, of working through something that is coming up for me in my life, not related to the practice itself, but actually inherently intertwined with it. This is the practice. To know thyself.

My intention that I had set for that practice was "Accept." I try to choose simple, one-word intentions, and usually go with the first word that pops into my head when I sit down on my mat in meditation before class, when I open my heart to listen to what it needs that day. What I found was a greater acceptance than I could have hoped for.


By the end of class I was crying once again in Savasana. The teacher came over to me and offered me some silent Reiki. Or at least I think she did. My eyes were covered, but I felt her presence, standing over me, holding her hands at my heart space, clearing the way for me to breathe more freely, to feel what I was feeling, to allow it to clear from my body, from my heart and from my soul. After class she came up to hug me and asked if I was doing okay. I told her simply that I was "going through some things" and hugged her gratefully.

"Work it out on the mat, girl, work it out on the mat," was her only response, which could not have been more perfect. She squeezed my shoulder and moved on to greet her next student.

Work it out on the mat, indeed.

Welcoming opportunity, releasing fear

“If we do not leap
then we’ll never understand
what it is to fly.” -Tyler Knott Gregson

I am excited to say that I have been offered an opportunity to take over my teacher Carrie's Saturday morning class. This is such a cool thing, and I am really flattered that she offered the very well-attended class to me. I also almost said no immediately when she offered it to me.

When I examined my reasons for wanting to say no, I discovered beneath the initial "I don't want to get up early on Saturdays" complaints my brain was lodging, was an underlying fear of failure. A little voice that I am sure many of us area familiar with that was saying to me, "who do you think you are kidding? You can't teach this class! And you certainly can't step in and fill the shoes of your teacher. No one will come if you take this class, just like your other classes that you tried to teach. You are a failure and you will always be a failure. So don't even try."

Sound familiar? I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that this was my initial response to something that I have really wanted, something I have worked hard and studied and paid in sweat and tears and practiced long hours to be able to do. I was speaking to a friend about it (another teacher that I know) and she confided in me that she feels this way every time she walks into the studio to teach. Every time she steps in to sub a class for someone else. Then I was discussing with another friend who teaches fitness to individuals and she said "You mean you were having the feeling that everyone will know that you are a fraud?" And my response was Yes! Exactly this!

I guess the answer is that everyone feels this way sometimes. Even though I am prepared to take on this class, and my teacher knows that I am prepared (or she would not be giving me the opportunity to ruin her livelihood by giving me this class) I still have this feeling that I do not know enough to run a class, that I will never know enough.

I do want to take more training, I want to study with Dave and Cheryl Oliver, I want to study with Brian Kest and Jeff Martens. But just because I have not done more training than just the 200-hour program, does not mean that I am not qualified to teach right now. I am. I just need to get over myself and start doing it.

This is why I said Yes to my desire to teach in the first place, after having said "No, you can't" for so long. I listened to the intuition which was telling me that I knew I had a place in this world and this place is to teach others what I have experienced in my own practice of yoga over the past 15 years. I have knowledge and that knowledge is valuable and I have the ability (and the desire) to share that experience with others. I have the desire to help others understand that their own body is a magical thing, that they are made of energy and we are all made of energy (at one with all that is.) Edges and boundaries, though they occur in this perception of reality, are useful and real, but they are also not real. Everything, including you and I, including this table that my laptop rests on, radiates energy, and when we can move our bodies into stillness, and thereby move our minds into a place of stillness, we can create this experience where we are One with everything, and we experience an overwhelming sense of peace, and rightness.

So, although I may not have the exact Sanskrit name of every Asana memorized, and I may not have every concept of Yoga Philosophy memorized, I still have vast experience and knowledge and I do have the ability to communicate that knowledge and experience to others who are willing to listen.

I need to get over the concept that people are coming to the class to look at me or listen to me, and remind myself that people come to yoga to listen to themselves, and listen to their own relationship to themselves. To learn from their own intuition. I am a conduit, I can help lead people to their own truths, I cannot impart my truth upon others.