Thursday, 25 April 2013

Touch your Heart, Not your Toes

Chloe (4 yrs.old) in paschimottanasana pose
I've been teaching yoga consistently for a year now. In every class, I express my personal thoughts, ideas, experiences. I'd say my signature style is delivering a complete mind-body-spirit experience by weaving spiritual messages throughout the class.
I admit that I often think most of my students tune me out after the first 'OM'. Clearly they can all hear me, but I wonder if they're listening. And when one student leaves half way through the class or skips out on savasana, I wonder if my words made them uncomfortable.
I still remember my first yoga workshop with Seane Corn, as though it was yesterday. It was a detox flow that not only wrung out the physical toxins in our bodies, but the emotional ones too. I'd be holding a pose and then, through her deep words, she'd trigger an unhealed emotional wound, bringing me to tears. That was the first time I ever experienced the true meaning of yoga.
A few weeks ago, a student told me she had injured her ankle over the week-end. She had been accustomed to ankle/foot injuries, so she'd practice anyway. Before I could attribute a physical activity as the trigger for the sprain, she admits that every time there are big changes in her life, she hurts her ankle. Now I'm no Dr. Oz, but I do know a bit about the messages our bodies send us. It's obvious that change awakens her fears. By injuring the joint that allows movement, she can't go very far, which symbolically means she won't have to live through her fear just yet.
Then last week, she sees me after class and confesses that she always cries at the end of my closing sermon, but this week, she didn't. She seemed so relieved as she was telling me that she'd breakdown  when I would talk about self-love. The fact that she didn't cry this time, meant that she's beginning to believe in the depth and power of loving yourself.
Not only does she listen to my words, and is touched by them, but she's also receptive to the idea of facing change. She's still showing up to class, working with the pain, rather than opting for the fear to get comfortable. It's thanks to these firework occasions that I love yoga. Your mat will always be there to catch your fall. Your body will be so grateful for every asana, that it'll nudge your spirit to tune in too. I always say yoga holds up a mirror, however, "what we see depends mainly on what we look for".
Yoga isn't about wrapping your leg behind your ear; balancing on your head without hands, or touching your toes. Yoga is about tuning in, listening, connecting to your best self. Whether it's a 30, 60 or 120 minute class, if you're connected to your breath throughout, you're living yoga. It is trough riding my magic mat that I continue to grow by flowing with life's challenges, rather than going against them. Now, sit in a comfortable position, connect to your breath and flow (screw your toes, they're too far anyways)!