Squeakign Along

You know what’s awesome? Being a yoga teacher. You know what’s even more awesome? Being a yoga teacher who teaches students so cool that they come to practice even when you don’t have a voice.

I just returned from a trip to Europe where among all the really cool things I saw and did, I also picked up a retched cold in Paris which has rendered me voiceless. All I can manage is a few rumbling squeaks between breathy sounds trying to form actual words. It’s really kind of funny, but less funny when you have a yoga class to teach. But selfishly or selflessly I could not keep myself from my studio for one more day, so I went to teach laryngitis be damned! And you know what, it was awesome! Students came happy to see me back in the studio and when my squeaky little voice came out not one asked how we were going to do class with a mute teacher.

The class itself was nothing special as far as the structure and the instructions, but what was really special was watching my students do their own yoga. Because I couldn’t talk through a sequence I gave them a few asanas with options for variations and kriyas and encouraged them to do what they felt worked most for their body. Then I shut up, I watched, walked around, made a few adjustments or suggestions and you know what it was…Awesome. I’ve been teaching full time in town for about a year, a few have been my students since the beginning, more started coming when I opened the new studio so I’ve been teaching and observing these students for a while now. It was such a fulfilling moment to see them own their own practice, to see the flow, the experimentation and the concentration.

People come to yoga for many different reason and when they start there is almost always some hesitation or self-consciousness about their bodies, or lack of yoga “skills.” It’s great to see those people make the decision to make yoga a part of their life and commit to it, to see the growth they achieve and the confidence they gain. Before I started my squeaky yoga class I said to my students “you know what to do.” And they do, and they did and I got to be the proud witness.

Home Is Where You Hang Your Head

It’s an odd sensation of realizing you have attained what you wanted. As I yogi I try not to “crave” things but as a human I still yearn. When I moved to my tiny town I knew how awesome it was, I knew how awesome the people are and I also knew that building a yoga community takes time but that that community of people coming together to share a practice, no matter how far along in their journey they are or what their ultimate goal is, is the kind of community or rather circle of friends in which I would find my niche. I was practicing so much patience and trying to hard not to want that group of people that I didn’t realize it had found me. Until New Year’s Eve.

Me and New Year’s Eve have a long tumultuous relationship, which normally ends with me off alone somewhere wallowing in self pity. This year with the overall roller coaster like frenzy of my emotional state, adding one more year to a very long spell of singlehood and then timely death of my last Grandparent (my Mom’s Mom) which meant that I would be spending New Years Day on an 11 hour haul across the country to attend her funeral well the closing of 2010 didn’t hold much optimism for me. And in fact I woke up that morning sicker than I’d felt in quite a while and praying I didn’t have the awful stomach flu that had been going around. But by Noon I was able to hold down toast and by 3 I even managed a trip to the studio to meet with the woman who would be subbing for me while I am in Erie. And by 5:30 I had made it to my tiny towns local spot to see the local band play and be among the living. And that is where I realized that the yoga community I had been waiting for was here. People who I have connected with through the studio because of our shared yoga; I melted into hugs form other yogis, I rested my head on the shoulders of students, I held and danced with their kids and I cried as I looked around my heart so full of love. I knew the next morning I would be off to visit my family and grieve and celebrate with them but right there in that moment and blessedly for the rest of my time in my tiny town I have a new family. I can’t say it’s the yoga that binds us but for me it’s definitely the language that lets me understand that where compassion is, family is.