My Lesson

At this time in my yoga teacher training, I am constantly taking classes from different teachers and different styles of yoga to enhance my own practice, which segues into the classes that I will teach. As I take these classes, I journal my experience; what resonated, distracted, challenged, inspired, bored or confused me. There are always teachers that I more naturally connect with their styles. There are also some days that I am not fully present, and I don’t absorb all that the class is offering. Each experience is unique.

What I do know is that I have never had a “bad” class. I have had classes that didn’t feel as beneficial or authentic for me, but those were mostly due to the different styles of teaching or a discipline of yoga that doesn’t naturally fit what I am seeking. This is especially validated to me when I witness the other students raving about the experience we just shared, while I’m floating alone in my opinion. In these instances, I have learned to open myself up to the lesson; what do I have to learn here and now? This way I have the opportunity to leave the class with a new insight or perspective.

Off the mat, this attitude has noticeably helped. Yes, it is much easier to practice on the mat, where it’s just me facing me; my fears, insecurities, limitations, progression and eventual accomplishments. Off the mat, I face people and situations outside of me; unfamiliar and unpredictable. My natural reaction is to retreat and hide. Through yoga, I have learned to give myself space to breathe in any circumstance. Then I can pose the question “what lesson is there here for me?”

Sometimes the lesson is that the current relationship or situation is not healthy for me, and I need to either respectfully remove myself or reinforce my personal boundaries. Many times the lesson is to be more fully present, to offer myself in service or companionship. There are relationships, jobs, classes and social gatherings that I tend to grade by how much I enjoyed them. I can list my approvals and disappointments in great detail. The problem with this approach is that someone or something outside of me is responsible for my enjoyment. Maybe even my happiness? That’s a problem.

What if I opened the question to a broader scale, “what is here for me?” If there is truly nothing, then I have my answer and I don’t need to waste anymore of my energy. Yet even the smallest draw may be reason enough to open myself to the experience, to be more fully present.

What I have discovered is that typically it’s my own fears and insecurities that are blocking my enjoyment. When I am fully present, I am better aware of these tendencies, and I can release them. When I free myself from my own blocks, that’s when magic is possible. I have found moments of true connection with another person, solutions to what was previously impossible, and the delicate beauty that has surrounded me the entire time.