Day 17 - A decision to teach

I've been incubating the idea of 1) being a yoga teacher, and 2) owning a yoga studio for quite some time. I really mean "incubate" in every sense of the world, that it is just a thought, an abstract idea I have and hold dear in my heart, and then occasionally bring it up to someone I trust, as something I could possibly, maybe, potentially do, one day, some day, maybe.

I don't talk about it much mainly for two reasons, 1) fear of being ridiculed (haha, *you*?), and 2) commitment issues, i.e., if I talk about it, I would have to do it.

Lately, with the departure of one of my favorite teachers, and reflecting on my actions and reactions to it, I've realized the importance of connecting with a teacher, and how essential it is in a person's practice.

I have also been frustrated with health clubs' watered down version of yoga, and, like all uninitiated and starry-eyed teachers (or budding politicians), I think I can do better.

So I spent a whole lot of time today looking at all the different yoga teaching programs. What a daunting landscape out there, and there's no US Time & World Reports school ranking to help either.

This is yet one more journey I'm feeling my way around on.

If I commit to it.

Day 12 - Yoga as Drug

Yoga, above all, is a drug.

I'm serious. Anything that can make you feel ecstatic and keep you coming back for more, by definition, is a drug.

And if we're all going with that definition of yoga, then I have been getting my fix regularly every Tuesday and Thursday for a little while; that is, until my dealer stopped working. (By dealer I mean teacher, sorry if I'm stretching this drug analogy a bit).

I always feel a-maze-ing after Amber's class. You know that "The Simpsons" episode where Mr. Burns took some drug to keep him alive, and as a side effect, he glowed like an alien and wandered around saying, "I bring you loooooooooooooove. I bring you peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeace" in a sing-songy voice? Well, if you know what I'm talking about, that's how I feel. (If you don't, click here)

Now that my favorite teacher is gone, in her place are other teachers, one with distinctly different styles, with which I'm having a hard time, a very hard time.

I like who she is as a person, but I cannot stand her teaching style.

I know, *super* unyogic of me, but I get very stressed out in her classes. It's true. My yoga class is stressing me out.

Day 5 - When One Door Closes

So I have this teacher, Amber, who taught regularly at the Sanctuary in Redmond on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and I would go religiously. But she's currently pregnant and just about to pop one out, so she's taking some time off.

Ever since she left, my usual Tues/Thurs practice has been lackluster. I rationalize for the fact that the other teachers are just not as good as she is. Their flows don't make as much sense. Their explanations shorter, and their presence just not as big.

So today I went and took my first Tuesday Class Without Amber. The teacher, Larissa, was fun. She had a great sense of humor, and I was really glad I went. Her style is different from Amber's, but I am okay with that. I even feel grateful to experience both of their styles.

I forgot my yoga pants. I had grabbed a shirt of the same color thinking I was grabbing my pants. So I did yoga in my designer office black pants instead. Thank god I didn't wear a skirt today.

I came home and found out that I had misunderstood a text message my boyfriend sent earlier. He wasn't coming to see me like I thought. I broke down. It wasn't really that big of a deal, and he had a very good excuse....err... reason. I had just been thinking about seeing him all day so much that it just felt like a real big let down.

Then I got to thinking about my yoga classes, and how I had set up the bar, the expectation for them to be just like Amber's, so I didn't give other teachers a chance, really. My boyfriend called, I am not mad at you, I said, I am mad at my expectations.