It’s a new year. After three seasons of moving and settling (meanwhile applying for jobs that didn’t match my desires), I finally spent energy this fall completing my certification in Imagination Yoga. It was a long time coming.
I did my first teacher training two winters ago, which happened to be a pivotal time of me realizing that I couldn’t stay in my marriage, but not knowing how to do so gracefully. In contrast to my deep longing to leave a life filled with outward success, I felt a inner sense of joy and creativity that I had long divorced myself from.
I volunteered as a teacher at Peace Learning Center for Teagan and Makenna’s classes, and then repeated the training last November…again, just as I was sensing the need to completely change my life. Yet, with 2018 being such a year of transition, I never felt able to commit to teaching yoga. I had to let go of my ego, the security of benefits, and the professional salary I once expected of myself. I had to give my dream of teaching yoga full faith.
Yet, now that I’m about to truly begin teaching, I find myself with doubt and insecurity. With my tarot reading this morning, I know that I before I shift my career, I need to authentically reflect on my both my deepest fears and wildest hopes. On this chilly winter day, I need to restoke the fire in my belly and remind myself of how I am meant to touch, teach and learn from each soul that enters my aura.
My fears are here or there, depending on the moment. Mostly in quiet tones, but still nudging enough to make me listen. I fear I’ll get too nervous, say the wrong thing and have the class become unruly. I fear that I won’t truly believe in baby dragons or the kids will bounce off the walls because I’ve amped them up. I fear that I’ll be too much in my head and not enough in my body. I fear that I’ll loose track of time or go too fast or too slow, not just with the flow. I fear that some kids will idolize me as a guru and others will wish they were doing anything else. I fear that I won’t be the joyful and radiant teacher who I want to be. On top of all that, I fear that money will continue to be tight because I’ve given up having a traditional career . Or that suddenly I’ll have to say no to some amazing opportunity that conflicts with teaching playful yoga poses. I fear that I’ll disappoint a whole class of kids, because I need to care for my own child. I fear that I’ll have to work overtime to juggle all of my competing desires, or that I’ll get sick or injure myself. (Over the winter break I both cut my finger badly and came down with a head cold, and I had to give myself a few days of an actual break).
And yet, I feel even more deeply that this is my path of purpose and one of a myriad of creative ways that I want to express my passion for life, connect with people of all ages, awaken our oneness, and shine/share divine light.
My greatest hope is to inspire young yogis and yoginis to create a lifelong yoga practice. I also want to teach the values of kindness, creativity, and intuitive self care. I hope to spark imaginative play, a sense of wonder, and of our infinite potential when we connect with spirit and believe in ourselves. I hope to feel growing strength and vitality, and a playful, yet purposeful, presence from actively living my passion. I’ve dreamed of all the children I will touch, and of teaching as I travel around the world with my kids. I’ve dreamed of teaching my grandkids, and of future generations who only know a world that values kindness, where the practices of yoga and mindfulness are considered as essential as brushing your teeth and making money.
I’m sure there are more hopes and fears that will bubble up, now that they are consciously flowing. I can only hope to be able to tap into both, and harness the energy of why teaching kids yoga matters so much to me, and of how I won’t know where my yoga practice will take me until I get on the mat.
It’s hard to believe, but I stepped onto my first yoga mat twenty years ago this week. I was a senior in college at the University of Oregon, and I decided that yoga (plus ballroom dance and kayaking and tarot) was an life skill that I needed. I biked to campus in the dark for a seven a.m. class (with kayaking, dance and tarot as night time classes!). I honestly don’t know where I got the energy, but I remember feeling such a deep sense of purpose and flow during that time of my life. I can only hope that my acknowledging my fears and moving past them, I’ll be able to create a professional practice that is as transformational as my personal practice.
Namaste. Sat nam.
PS I love the fact that as I finished editing this the song Vacation came up on Pandora…with lyrics that go “A-a-aye, I’m on vacation. Every single day ’cause I love my occupation.” Now that my biggest hope. 🙂