Apr 13

What goes up…

Do you remember the “Yoga Guy” from a few blogs back in the meditation retreat? I was teaching to a phenomenally appreciative audience (even though they were in silence). My daily practice was at personal best levels of consistency, intensity and challenge. I was en fuego, living my Indian yoga fantasy with just enough awareness to know that my ego was dangerously inflated. I acknowledged that, but apparently that wasn’t enough …

Goa was the last stop on my trip. A ten days yoga retreat on a beautiful beach seemed like a great way to culminate the adventure. I wasn’t teaching, just deepening my practice and challenging myself with things I was not good at. Though I respect the Ashtanga practice greatly, I had only gone through the primary series a few times since my teacher training (seven years ago). So it wasn’t a big deal that I couldn’t do everything. It didn’t even bother me that I wasn’t the strongest student in the retreat (Monica has been practicing yoga longer than I have AND she is about 20 years younger). I wasn’t there for validation. So how come I got so bothered when it didn’t come?

Stripped of the comforts of “my” practice and “my” yoga style I felt my relationship with the teacher, Heather, slip from equal to less than. Some of that was likely her taking the authority that a teacher needs to effectively lead, but part of that was also her defending her way. Ashtanga is a very traditional and dogmatic style of yoga. There is one right way of doing things and everything else is wrong. My teaching style is the polar opposite.

Where I regularly suggest easing into the first down dog by bicycling the heels toward the floor, that habit was reprimanded. Where I constantly remind students that yoga is about intention, not the goals; Ashtanga (as least this version) meant grabbing the toe in the triangle (even if that meant bending at the knee) and bringing your nose to your leg in forward folds (even if that meant giving up the length in the spine). Props were viewed largely as crutches that prevented students from progressing.

Who was I to challenge these traditions? Who am I to create my own flow sequences when there were time-tested routines to be followed?

My formal teacher training had been with an Australian company (Yoga Arts) that happened to be running a training program concurrently with our retreat at the same retreat center. There was even one of my former teachers there (Lucy). It wasn’t meant as a slight to me, but at one point Heather voiced the opinion that “none of those students would be qualified to teach” when their program ended. I tried to challenge her in a respectful way, but it still came across sounding defensive.

Being defensive is a good indicator that our insecurities are being challenged. One day over breakfast, someone familiar with the Bay Area asked where I taught. I could see the “inferior gym yoga” judgments forming when I told them of the classes I led at health clubs and corporations. As if on queue, they asked if I taught at any yoga studios. The ego is always looking to impress others. My ego took quite a beating. I guess the universe knew I needed it. It made me stronger and even more determined to keep teaching my way.