What my Yoga Students Have Taught Me
Dear Yogis,
What a journey we’ve shared over the years! A glorious mix of highs and lows. It’s certainly been a bumpy road with the wheels occasionally coming off as we negotiated the rocks that are Covid. But we’ve dusted ourselves off and we’re hanging on, albeit losing a few passengers along the way.
I’m still learning as a yoga teacher. Crumbs, I cringe sometimes at the yoga teacher I used to be when I started out. Nervous sometimes, too fast often. But yogis, you have taught me to be a better teacher. You’ve taught me to slow down, become more confident. You’ve shown me what works well in class and what doesn’t work so well. You’ve taught me how to adapt to a mixed class and to enjoy introducing a beginner into an experienced group. You’ve taught me to laugh at my mistakes and to just be myself.
I know that perfecting crow pose isn’t going to change your life. I know which poses you don’t like (that’ll be crow pose again!). I know which poses you do like (crow pose when you’ve just nailed it!). I know you always hold your breath in Warrior 2 – I know that I only need to point this out and your laughter releases the breath!
The best gift you’ve given me is your trust. When I guide you into your first head stand, your joy is priceless. When you’re going through a difficult time, and you come to yoga to escape for a moment. When you’re new to yoga and I’m allowed to help you on the start of your adventure, and then see you flourish.
I often get asked how I remember your names. I just do. It’s important. You’ve chosen to come to my class, so the least I can do is to get to know your name. You are all individuals with individual needs.
I’ve been so privileged that you’ve shared your stories with me. You’ve suffered the loss of loved ones, cared for sick relatives, suffered bad injuries, have serious health conditions, gone through divorce, been victims of crime, had members of family move far away. But you’ve also moved house, given birth, been on exotic holidays, become puppy owners, got married, become grandparents, seen a child off to university, got a new job. You still come to class and allow yourself some time out for yourself.
As a new yoga teacher, I used to dread being told by a yogi that they had an injury or medical condition. I felt that I was expected to know every medical condition and what to do. One of the most valuable things I’ve learned as a yoga teacher is that actually, all I need to do is listen to you. You are already an expert in your own body. You are the only one who knows when you feel pain. All I can do is to remind you to rest up and not come to class or to be kind to yourself when in class, offering modifications when you need them.
I get such a thrill when I see you all arrive in class and then look at all your lovely expectant faces. I feel humbled, when you arrive with the aid of a walking frame or wheelchair to seated yoga and I hear the cheer you give yourself for negotiating a tricky pose. I see the shoulders bunched around the ears after a stressful day in the office. I see the inside of a cheek being bitten when you are anxious. I notice the far-off look when you’re worried about a loved one at home. I hope that you find the escape you need for a few moments.
I’ve seen you flourish, and your confidence grow. From fledgling beginners to confident yogis. Not just technically confident, but the confidence that grows with just becoming more aware of your own body and your practice. I get excited when I see you with your first new yoga mat under your arm, or a new yoga bag stuffed with new props – I know then that you’re hooked, and you will see and feel the benefits of your yoga practice.
Humour is so important. It’s the best antidote to worries, loneliness, anxiety, a bad day at work. I don’t pretend that everyone doesn’t have their share of worries or that they will go away in the space of a yoga class. However, just a smile raises the serotonin levels, and if we can just be in the moment of our practice and laugh at the silliness of some of it, I hope that you leave feeling a little better than when you arrived.
There’s a saying that laughter is the best form of therapy. A yogi in her 90s isn’t necessarily worried about toned abs, but if she has the pleasure of company with other like-minded yogis, and a few laughs along the way, she will return home to her empty house a little comforted. A complex pose often makes us giggle – that’s great – we’ll just agree that we can maybe wrap a leg around our neck next week!
So, thank you yogis for keeping me grounded. For turning up. For smiling and forgiving me for not knowing my left from right. For being so upbeat when Zoom was the only way we could practice together. For laughing when the sound of a leaf blower accompanied savasana. For carrying the mats out to my van after class. For letting me know when you can’t come to class. For being flexible when I can’t run a class. For sharing your holiday stories after class. For the look you give me when we do boat pose. For making me smile and forgetting how tired I sometimes feel. For sharing your yoga journey with me.
Thank you,
Ellie
Ellie Stafford is an advanced 500hours yoga teacher registered with Yoga Alliance*
She is also a qualified Restorative Yoga teacher.
*https://www.yogaalliance.org/TeacherPublicProfile?tid=162117
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