From 0 to 108

As soon as I started teaching I had heard that another teacher was keeping track of the amount of hours she was teaching. I loved this idea so I started jotting down the days times, type of class and eventually, also, the word of the day. Yesterday I reached 108 hours of teaching yoga. I knew I wanted to relay my teaching experience over time and knew that 108 was a perfect interval. Let me explain...

I started my journey with yoga years ago at YogaOasis. I was drawn to the intensity of yogahour. Admittedly it was the first real style of yoga I tried and for a long time thought this was the only kind of yoga. I was immediately drawn to the fast pace, the soundtrack, the sequencing, the full classes that created a special warmth, as well as the teachers that Yogahour attracted. I felt instantly connected to the large room at YogaOasis and fell into a deep love affair with getting to know my body. I went to as many classes as possible, I was also rock climbing a bit at the time and got to know one of the studio managers, Ashley. She graciously offered me a position cleaning the downtown studio a few hours a week for yoga trade. SCORE. I cleaned the downtown studio after hours. I would soak in the energy of the studio and give gratitude for the safe space that gave me the opportunity to grow comfortably into my skin. I then switched from downtown cleaning duty to washing mats, another opportunity I loved, to show the studio that offered me so much peace, some gratitude. Long story short, I gave up my key to the downtown studio when I moved to washing mats, and when I was offered a position teaching at downtown I was given another key. The keys for the downtown studio are numbered, and mine has inscribed on it "108". 108, I'm told, is a sacred number and it feels that way to me, and very near and dear to my yoga heart. 108 hours of teaching also equals 100 hours of teaching yogahour and 8 teaching miscellaneous classes.
What I've learned in the first 108 The first 108 hours changed me. Looking back on all of my notes I am reminded of the dark as well as light times in my teaching. My husband proposed after one of my classes. I started as a babbling, bumbling mess and can now confidently teach 8 of the 10 sequences yogahour and it's teachers have so lovingly and thoughtfully provided. My teaching has been tuned (I won't say fine tuned yet because I know I have much more work to do) to a level where I feel comfortable looking at my students, assessing them before and during class to articulate strength as well as stretch and apply as needed. I try to find at least one student per pose in each class to focus on and emphasize cues to them to increase their strength. For example, if I notice a student is often collapsing in their shoulders, when I instruct the class to move into side plank, I will stand by this student and either make eye contact or point out the strength cues by their side while saying them to the whole class. I very much enjoy this part of my teaching. I feel like I can connect with an individual student without compromising the instruction of the whole class.

I also noticed that somewhere along the way I picked up the habit of carrying around a block. I think it started off as my Linus blanket....

...and then may have turned in to.. I'm not sure what to do with my hands....

and now it actually is a great teaching tool! I can use the block to demo how to use props in certain difficult poses (for example ardha chandrasana with a block). I've seen students feel more comfortable grabbing a block and using it because now they know how to use it. I also have a block in my hand as I'm walking around and if I see someone struggle, will drop it off on their mat, maybe under their fingers in triangle while I continue teaching. I have embraced my Linus blanket block and now use it as a wonderful teaching tool!

When I watch other teachers, I marvel at how they are able to see when their students muscles are or aren't engaged and I knew I wanted to find this ability in my teaching, and I did! This may seem elementary to some, but a very vital step in noticing how students bodies may be different, or, may respond differently to the same pose. From here I can now fine tune my teaching instrument to the smaller details. I also want to honor the students practice, instead of telling them they must do it my way, explain why this action in this pose saved my back, or protected my hamstring, so on and so forth.

Darren says "pay attention to what you are paying attention to", so, in that vein, here are the things I am paying attention to; increasing strength in my students, using that strength to add stretch, and a deep desire to help students find what will make their practice , their practice.

After my last class on Tuesday I got to chat a bit with the girl who stays to clean the studio. She is thinking about taking the teacher training in August.  I felt a wave of gratitude for my upbringing at YogaOasis, for being a strong link in the teacher, student, teacher, student chain. I was, in that moment, able to articulate my aim, and really nail down what I had been trying to articulate all along. I want to enhance my teaching to be able to fine tune the students practice, so that they can better serve their bodies, and, if they so choose, other students. I want to be a strong link in the chain.

Nope... nuh uh... not gonna do it...

I DID NOT want to teach today. I've been feeling a bit worn down lately. Part of it is a deep realization that I am having trouble pretending to like my other job (bartending). It is becoming increasingly difficult to face up to people who are constantly rude, selfish, and unforgiving. Please do not misunderstand, there are parts of my job I very much like, and some people who are so very nice, thoughtful, and appreciative, but this not always the case in the service industry, but that is a story for another day, and for possibly another blog, anyway... back to today.

I opened up the studio about 25 minutes before class, lit some incense and candles and played some music and prepared for class. I was having trouble locking down my Word of the Day when this overwhelming feeling of .....overwhelm... whelmed over me? In that moment I realized what I had known but hadn't taken notice of yet, and that was that I haven't actually had a day to myself, to rest, since I started teaching. It's been about 6 months now. I knew my word of the day, then, would be "rest", an an attempt to practice it myself. In fact, it is built IN to our practice, we rest at the end of every class to fully receive the benefits of all of the hard work we've done. When studying for the Yogahour Teacher Training test I skipped out on this very important aspect of the Teacher Training and I suffered greatly. I got sick, had a shorter attention span, and was unable to focus. WE NEED rest. We cannot continue to go go go even when we have a great desire to learn and GROW GROW GROW. In order to fully utilize all of the poses, thoughts, cues we've learned we must rest. Boom, word of the day handled... still didn't want to teach the class though..  and I was silently hoping no one would show up, then I could maybe hold the space and meditate for an hour or so.

8 minutes til class starts... a car rolls up, nope, they head next door. T-minus 7 minutes.. a car pulls up... also goes next door... 6 minutes to go... a car pulls up, I'm thinking there may be a good chance they will head next door, but they've parked closer to my door... crap... then I see the fitted clothing indicative of us active types... double crap...

A beautiful woman comes in and asks if she can practice here today, I say yes of course we have a class that is just about to begin. It turns out she is visiting from St Paul, I ask her to fill out a waiver as it's her first time here. I check the waiver, as I often do, for injuries, limitations, and first timers. She has some thoracic spinal issues, SI issues, and some fused discs, it indicates. I happen to glance at her as she is putting her things away and her shirt lifts up, and I see her back scars, They look like a large arrow pointing down, running what looks like the length from her low back to bottom. Dang, I'm pretty lucky I'm in good health.

4 minutes to go, 5 more people show up! Awesome! LET'S DO THIS!

We get through our warm ups and I can't help but keep an eye on my out-of-towner, she is making her own modifications, but it looks like she cannot even bend her back, not even a little bit. She knows her limitations, she uses her own props and does her own modifications, and continue to watch. After the warm-ups, on to standing sage I get another overwhelming feeling, "how beautiful these bodies are". This particular class ranges in age but usually it is in the 40s and 50s range, and they so continue to inspire. They are here to take care of themselves, to love the body that has given them so many years. They are here to learn, and grow, and know when to rest when they have to. I almost start crying during class. Bring it back Annie! Okay back to teaching.

We end class, and I am now full. Full of love, gratitude, awe, and sheer joy for my job. I compare this to other things I've done and this tops them all. I love what I do, I LOVE what I do. I answer some questions, and make sure to tell my out-of-towner it was a pleasure to watch her practice, and that she is tenacious! I listen as others talk about their experience and how one gentleman came to yoga when he realized he couldn't brush his teeth without his arm hurting, and he amazes me. I loved my class today, and couldn't have asked for a better class, even though in the beginning I wasn't really having it, my students change me, as they usually always do.

One of the reasons I feel like I belong as a yoga teacher...

...is because in the beginning, I was not such an amazing yoga teacher.

And, please, don't misunderstand, I am still in the very beginning stages of my teacherhood, I will forever be in the early stages of my teacherhood, and I hope to remain teachable... and I have had many teachable moments.

I am clumsy, awkward, shy, and often forget to filter my thoughts from brain to mouth. I have dropped chimes during savasana, butchered the aums in the beginning of class, am constantly terrified I will hurt someone in my class, and can't seem to make it through one class without mixing up words, transposing letters, or dropping an "oh shit" inexplicably.

Over the last 6 months I've taught over 80 hours of yoga. In those 80 hours I've learned how to be kind to myself, how to laugh at myself, and how to have confidence that I can lead a yoga class. I've learned that I have a voice, how to use my voice, and how to guide others to find and use their bodies. In no other realm of my life have a felt this sense of empowerment, a sense of belonging and love, not only for others but in my own skin, in my own brain and in my own heart. I teach yoga because I care about spreading this love. I teach yoga because I have found no other place where I have been so fully challenged and comfortable in my own skin at the same time. I teach so I can continue to learn and evolve my own life and practice and hopefully impart some of that love, excitement, and confidence in others.

Can I give you a tip?

I love teaching Yoga. I have never felt more full, of love and light in any other thing I've done. I love that every time I teach I continue to grow my own personal teaching style, continue to find out more tidbits about myself, get closer to my Self, shed light on the darkness and learn to love and embrace the darkness.

That being said, I was subbing an Intro class the other day, and one of the girls had come in late so she was going to pay after class. Turned out she loved the class and when paying asked if she could tip me. My gut reaction was NO! More in the "oh, no, honey, I LOVE my job, and sometimes I even do it for free because I LOVE it so much! And, never ever do I expect to be given more, for something that I love doing".

My other job is based solely on tips and I've worked in that industry for years. It's something I've been trying to get away from since I started. I won't deny that tips drive an economic engine that foster conversation, "going the extra mile",  and customer service, I would argue that a set wage would reduce the resentment attached to non- or sub par tippers. Okay now i've gone too far astray.

What I meant to convey, was, that I love teaching yoga, and en lieu of a tip I would love to have more people come to more classes and allow themselves to have more experiences in yoga. So, NO, please do not tip me, please come to more classes!

Any other teachers have experience or thoughts on this topic?

From 0 to 50 in 3 months and 3 weeks

Teaching my 4:00 p.m. Yogahour class on Sunday, February 16, 2014 marked the 50th hour of yoga I've taught. As of today that number is now 53. This includes teaching two Intro to Yoga classes as well as two private sessions. This averages to about 3.5 hours of class per week, although some weeks I taught up to 8 classes, and up to 4 in one day. I've taught students from 14 (a mother and her daughter) to people in their 60's (although I'd never ask because I'm not very good at this "being social" thing), including one man in particular who goes to two yoga classes a day to reduce his risk for another heart attack (yes he's had 2). I don't say any of this to bolster myself or search for credibility. I am writing this to relay my experience, my journey, my surrender with yoga and Yogahour.
I grew up in Yogahour, I fell in love with it's sweat factor, the flow, the pace, and the music. Although I am nowhere near Gladwell's 10,000 hours, so much of me has changed in the last 3 months. I taught my first Yogahour class at the Downtown studio. I had just gotten out of D's morning class and was thinking about how badly I wanted to teach at YogaOasis. I thought to myself, "they probably don't know this", so I sent a private message to Darren on Facebook asking what I needed to do in order to start teaching at YogaOasis. No shit, within a few hours I had gotten a call from Rachel asking if I would be willing to sub a class that evening. My brain, at first, said "Oh hell no", and then my heart told me to GO, so I went. With a couple of dear friends there to support me, a few years of practicing yoga to back me up, and a half memorized script I stood shaking in front of a group of people I was sure would throw salad fix-ins at me and boo me off stage as soon as class was over. None of that happened, and some people even thanked me for teaching that evening. As with facing any fear, the anxiety of teaching has gone down, my comfort in the seat of teacher has softened, my ability to teach effectively has increased by leaps and bounds.
Almost every class, I fight off the nervous energy that accompanies the feeling that these students have entrusted me with their time and attention. I think of the high regard with which I view my teachers and I wish to display to my students this same appreciation. I used to think that I could only do this by being perfect, never messing up, never giving the wrong cue, and this is the one idea that has changed the most throughout this process. I know this because I am the clumsiest yoga teacher ever! I have tripped over blankets, turned the wrong lights on or off during class, and even dropped the chimes during savasana. The difference between the me of 6 months ago and the person I am now is that I am much more accepting of this person. I love her a little more, I embrace her regularly and even tell her how beautifully she is growing. I am terrified most every day I teach, but I do it anyway because I know what is on the other side.
I can't say that I can effectively relay or produce these feelings in other people. I would even go so far as to say that isn't my job as a yoga teacher. I believe my job is to hold the space for this to occur in others as it has for me, to honor the space created by those who have come before me, centuries ago, and to hold the space for those who will continue on this path long after I am gone.
Yogahour for me is about balance. It is the "and" of all things; strength and flexibility, slow and fast, creativity and consistency, stop and go, teacher and student. Embracing the role of teacher reminds me how far I've come and how far I have yet to go. Thank you for that.