This week’s blog is brought to you by the wine, cheese, chocolate and wild flowers of France.
Please send my teacher home soon.
In the spirit of transparency: It took a LONG time for me to try a new teacher.
When I first began my yoga practice, it was all I could do to be in the room. Everything was tight- my hips, my hamstrings, my quads, my feet (my brain). Years of running resulted in a great runner- but not an easeful yogini.
I was 100% uncomfortable, 100% of the time.
As running became a smaller part of my life, I found two teachers who’s spirit connected with mine. I took their classes several times a week and in combination had no need to stray from the consistency or ritual. It never occurred to me to try someone else. My instructors were part of my day. There was safety in their room, in their space, in their voices and in their styles.
Nine or so months into my practice, as my finger tips discovered what it felt like to touch the floor and my flirtation with crow pose became more of an engagement, one of my teachers suggested to try some other classes. What? No. Well...maybe... trusting her more than myself, I asked who I should try. She gave me a list and I slowly began working my way through Boston yoga studios and classes.
Cut to a few years later….
Now, I want to try new teachers. Why? Because ya’ll have got game!
I'm motivated by new and unique postures...but much (MUCH) more so- I want to experience new people.
I want to listen for language that resonates in my body and in my heart.
I want to hear playlists that are slow and melodic, songs that beg me to breathe and songs that take me from high plank to low plank and back with just the beat of the bass. Songs that make me smile.
I want to do four poses in 90 minutes and question why I’m sweating like a high school boy.
I want to do warriors and lunges and arm balances in new rooms with new windows and outlooks and perspectives.
I want to challenge myself to find comfort in the unfamiliar- knowing all the while, my heart may beat fast, my mind may race and my hands may fidget.
I want to watch how you move- athletically, gracefully, fluidly or with precision.
I want to be a student in the room so I can be a better teacher.
I want to see how you take care of your students and how you hold the space.
I want to remember how the class made me feel. Then, I want to take the best pieces of you and help melt them into a better version of me.
So to all of you teachers who’s class I take and those who are still on my list, thank you.
And to my teachers: I will forever be grateful for your spirit, your knowledge, your space and your kindness. I will always come home to your class.