Photo: cc by Sabrina’s Stash, thanks!
In doing yoga, I also get a fresh dose of my own struggles: what is hard that wasn’t hard yesterday, what I can do that I couldn’t do last year.
BY MAGAZINE COLUMNIST CARYN MIRRIAM-GOLDBERG
By the time you read this, I will have started teaching a weekly yoga class – Poetry in Motion yoga that combines writing and asanas – at Westside Yoga in beautiful Lawrence, Kansas. While I’ve been teaching yoga workshops, yoga and writing workshops and other variations for some years, I’ve held off on teaching a weekly class for one honest reason:
I’m scared
I’m scared of committing to show up each week at a certain time, and to feel healthy and strong enough to teach yoga. After ins and outs and ups and down of health issues since I finished chemotherapy in 2002, I’ve had more than my share of pop-up viruses, but mostly little strange sinus set-backs that aren’t contagious and don’t lead to anything, but make me feel crummy. So committing to teach a class weekly means I believe I’m healthy enough or ready to pretend otherwise. It also means I trust myself to stay healthy enough or to be present enough with my students even if I feel a little like crawling into bed with an old magazine.
We all have such moments when we commit to do something because we know it’s time, and then we move toward it on trembling legs and with shaking hearts. That’s because, at such moments, we sense – even through the wind tunnel of our fear – that this is what is necessary for our growth and spark.
Preparing and visualizing
With the beginning of this regular class beating its heart closer to mine, I am knocking my knees together a little, but also preparing myself beyond the actual plans for what poses I’ll aim us toward, and how I’ll blend in writing pauses to refresh our imaginations and bodies.
So I’ve been envisioning myself teaching the class ahead of time. I imagine where I’ll set my mat (with the windows to the big golden field behind me), how the class will be arranged, what music will be playing as people enter, and even me sitting quietly and smiling… although it’s likely I’ll be racing around a bit, showing people where to sign in, pay, change and get their mats. I also envision the class, how it might move and unfold, and how it will end on a note of sweetness.
Breathing is everything
I know I’ll be a little nervous, but I also know it’s necessary to let that be completely okay without trying to kennel my nerves. I know I might feel great, and I might not, but I also know, from many years of facilitating workshops, how I can honor whatever I feel, let it rest on the shelf while I’m leading exercises or stretches, and open my heart to the energy of those in the room and to my own best energy.
Mostly, I remind myself to remember why I love yoga so much, and the best way I can do that is by doing yoga, and feeling that sweet memory blending with the present stretch. In doing yoga, I also get a fresh dose of my own struggles: what is hard that wasn’t hard yesterday, what I can do that I couldn’t do last year, where it’s tricky and shaky, and why breathing is everything.
Read more of Caryn’s writing on her blog http://carynmirriamgoldberg.wordpress.com
and website http://carynmirriamgoldberg.com
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Name may be withheld by request.
© 2011, The Magazine of Yoga, LLC.
