In December of 2015 my yoga teacher said, “You should sign up for our teacher training.” I had quit my corporate job in March and “self employment” was turning out to be less glamorous (read: prosperous) as I’d thought it would be. At the time I was going to yoga three times a week; a novice, still learning poses. But I thought, sure, why not be a yoga teacher?
The training was intense and eye-opening and my cohort and I came out of it ready to change the world with deep breathing and this cool thing called mindfulness.
I learned about the effects of trauma on the body. I learned we are more than what shows up of us on this plane of existence. I learned my elbows don’t straighten all the way. Most importantly, I learned that the simple practice of coordinating movement and breath and intention can have a profound positive impact.
Yoga for trauma has been proven effective. Often our bodies and minds disconnect as a result of something “traumatic” (define that however works for you). To reintegrate body and mind through something like yoga can, literally, bring you back to yourself. It can instill a sense of safety that might have been missing on a physical level, an emotional one, or both.
It did that for me, and I wanted to share that with others.
I’m not sure I changed the world, but I hope during the eight years I taught, I helped a few people.
Now I’ve retired from teaching yoga; I taught my last class today. Chair yoga, with the lovely ladies my two aunts brought together over four years ago. I feel such a sense of loss, but it was time. I needed to clear out that cache, make room for new things.
But I’ll probably always practice yoga in some form or another for the rest of my life. I need it, on a lot of levels.
As I sat outside in the sunshine before teaching my last class, it occurred to me that everything happening right now could be viewed in the context of safety v. confidence.
Our bodies and minds often crave safety. We need to know everything is okay, that we are safe from the lions, that we have a roof over our head (and how lucky are those of us who do have roofs over our heads!). Our chair yoga classes started during the early days of the Pandemic, we needed something good to focus on. But even without global pandemics, we spend too much time in flight-or-fight, too much time filling our hours with dopamine distractions and worries. We pay the price in one way or another.
But while our bodies might be crying out for safety, our hearts might be pleading for confidence.
Maybe at the end of the day, what my heart yearns for, what my real desire in life is, is knowing I’m able to take care of myself, able to make hard decisions, capable of doing hard things. That I am stronger than my body lets me believe. That I have confidence. Maybe it’s less about “I am safe” and more about “Yes I can.”
Maybe my retiring from teaching is my graduation from one realm into the other.
I like to think there are black and white absolutes, that I can flip a switch and no longer worry about feeling safe, or that I can push a button that will, say, instantly heal a physical ailment (especially the ones that are directly attributed to stress… Oh wait, that’s everything). But I suspect I’ll always be dealing with this side of the equation; it’s how I’m wired.
But at least now I understand the other side of the equation.
Hey you were my first yoga teacher and also the best! It was life changing for me and now I am addicted to it. I
“Maybe it’s less about “I am safe” and more about ‘Yes I can.’” 💕