I like things to go a certain way when I teach a class, most especially yoga.
I have an intention for how I like it to all unfold. I have a preference as you can imagine. But when you’re teaching with other humans nothing ever goes the way I plan — the way I hoped.
As they say about yogis, we are striving for flexibility and rigid in its pursuit.
We fancy ourselves all zen and bendy that is until our plan is disrupted.
That’s how it went down for me in a recent class.
We started with our usual centering, grounding, and focusing on the breath.
Just as I could feel everyone’s energy starting to dial down from the day I heard it. The door knob to the room began to jiggle.
“Seriously?” I thought.
The door swings open and two young newbie yogis roll in.
Over the years teaching I’ve learned there are two kinds of late arrivers.
Those who quickly find a spot and try to make as little disruption as possible. And those who do not. This scenario highlights the latter.
Class comes to a standstill while they leisurely roll out their mats, take their shoes off and settle in. I greet them and receive blank stares in return.
Class restarts after what feels like forever but in truth it was a few minutes and I feel myself being irritated. I am angry they are late.
I am bothered that they weren’t very respectful to the other participants. I am just annoyed.
And then I thought, I can spend this whole class teaching through gritted teeth or I can let it go.
That’s when I thought about being an inflexible yogi.
Why was I being so rigid, so unforgiving?
I had to laugh at myself. The grumpy, unrelenting yoga teacher telling people to relax and let go while holding a grudge.
By the end of class I had embraced our new friends and felt grateful for their attendance.
I was able to release the heels that I’d dug into my yoga mat. It’s always nice when the universe has a sense of humor and shows me how to have one too.
Sunshine & Sarcasm,
Lowi & G