There's no cursing in yoga
Except when there is...
I admit to having a bit of a potty mouth. I'm not afraid of the F-word and I will curse "like a sailor" when angry or telling a story with lots of emotion.
That being said, I really do want to avoid such slip ups when I'm leading a yoga class. I want to be poised and controlled, warm and welcoming to my students. I want to effortlessly speak the pose's name in Sanskrit and English.
I know that day will come with practice and training. I hope it will anyway, because today was definitely not that day.
My fellow yoginis and I were given an opportunity for practicum in class today. We led each other through a small portion of a flow we're all expected to know in its entirety by heart by the end of training.
In the days leading up to today's class, I agonized over memorizing the Sanskrit. I have lost count of how many times I practiced describing how to transition from pose to pose. I gave the breath cues to my dog while I brushed him for half an hour (he ignored me the whole time) and said the flow out loud in the car while running errands.
And when it came time to teach?
Blank mind.
Blank.
Like the emptiest of blank pages. I swear I could hear my pulse throbbing in my head.
I even goofed on a part that I had developed my own mnemonic device for - Surya Namaskar B - the reminder to begin with chair pose/utkatasana in my head was - B, Be Seated in Your Chair. Did that help me in the moment of truth?
Big. Fat. NOPE.
So that's when the F-bomb dropped. That's when I laughed and that's when I realized that my vision of the calm, controlled, poised yoga teacher is still way off in the distance.
But if I look really closely, I can still f*ckin' see her.
I admit to having a bit of a potty mouth. I'm not afraid of the F-word and I will curse "like a sailor" when angry or telling a story with lots of emotion.
That being said, I really do want to avoid such slip ups when I'm leading a yoga class. I want to be poised and controlled, warm and welcoming to my students. I want to effortlessly speak the pose's name in Sanskrit and English.
I know that day will come with practice and training. I hope it will anyway, because today was definitely not that day.
My fellow yoginis and I were given an opportunity for practicum in class today. We led each other through a small portion of a flow we're all expected to know in its entirety by heart by the end of training.
In the days leading up to today's class, I agonized over memorizing the Sanskrit. I have lost count of how many times I practiced describing how to transition from pose to pose. I gave the breath cues to my dog while I brushed him for half an hour (he ignored me the whole time) and said the flow out loud in the car while running errands.
And when it came time to teach?
Blank mind.
Blank.
Like the emptiest of blank pages. I swear I could hear my pulse throbbing in my head.
I even goofed on a part that I had developed my own mnemonic device for - Surya Namaskar B - the reminder to begin with chair pose/utkatasana in my head was - B, Be Seated in Your Chair. Did that help me in the moment of truth?
Big. Fat. NOPE.
So that's when the F-bomb dropped. That's when I laughed and that's when I realized that my vision of the calm, controlled, poised yoga teacher is still way off in the distance.
I've been to some of these hot yoga classes. It's 100 degrees, the poses can be very painful and time seems to move much slower than the rest of the planet. F-bombs can roll out like sweat beads. Still, cant wait to take one of your classes.
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