Just one more teacher training weekend, an anatomy test, a take-home exam, and a few class assists and I'll officially be a certified yoga teacher. I can't believe the end is really that near. It's sad to realize that I won't be seeing this great group of fellow trainees each month anymore, that this incredible phase of my life is coming to an end. And even though I've already started teaching the occasional private class and will soon be taking over two morning classes at the studio, it's hard to imagine my life as a yoga teacher.I taught my first paid private yoga class on Sunday and found myself fumbling terribly despite my preparation and previous experience with this group of students. I gave the wrong name for poses, stumbled over instructions, forgot posture benefits and didn't give a single adjustment. I thought I had the teaching thing down, thought I was getting the hang of it. Apparently, that was not the case. I laughed off my mispronunciations and stumbling instructions with a self-deprecating, "Wow, I'm a little off today." But I felt like I was completely floundering.
Later that day, while ruminating on all the mistakes I had made, I realized that I'm always going to be learning and improving. Not just as a yoga teacher, but as a writer, a friend, a lover, a human being. Like so many times during my exploration of yoga, I began extrapolating what happened in that class to other areas of my life.
I will never "arrive" at some magical end-point, some moment when I'm complete and perfect. I won't always give the clearest instructions, write the most lyric sentences, or be the best person I can be in this world. I will flounder through life making mistakes. And through those mistakes I will change and grow. Sometimes I will fall on my face. But I will get up, brush my knees off, and try again.
(Photo credit: Moffet)
This piece was cross-posted at bookieboo.com, where I'll be journaling about my experience as I learn to teach yoga (and become a more dedicated yoga student in the process).