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.