Tags
belly dancing, blacksmith, Confidence, constant immersion, Depression, Eye contact, forge, handstands at midnight, PTSD, theatre, Vulnerability, Yoga, yoga for depression, yoga for PTSD, yoga teacher training
Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/the-lees/61448491/
There’s a thing that causes me to simultaneously feel dread and express tears of joy.
They are one and the same: the becoming of myself as a yoga teacher.
They’re two sides of the same coin. A coin that’s being heated, smelted, and forged into a new shape. Same raw material, but the qualities are shifting.
This re-working is an elemental process, creating change as a by-product of the end-result (which is really just another beginning).
But it’s not easy, just because it’s something I want. The wanting and the reality of the getting are entirely different.
The clamour of tools is distracting, and it’s tempting to not pick them up. Sort of. Actually, yeah. But then I look ahead.
Because it’s all about priorities. If I keep those in sight, then it’s easier to step back into the forge. Even if it means daily facing up to scary long-held patterns that scare me witless.
I’ve never seen you this nervous before, says the principal of my yoga school.
She says this after observing my very first effort last weekend, at leading a fellow student in a half hour impromptu yoga class (I was given fifteen minutes to construct a lesson plan).
Oh yes. Very nervous. Partly, it’s the hearing myself speak. And knowing the exact words to say, and being responsible for how other people move their bodies. Speaking emotively because that’s where we connect, that’s part of the work of yoga.
All of this has to come from a place of supreme openness and vulnerability, too. But also confidence and trust that speaking from this place will be well received and accepted.
So, there’s the confidence factor, which has never been one of my strong points. The vulnerability factor – I’ve spent the last four years or so feeling exceptionally vulnerable… and then there’s the thing with eye contact.
Dealing with PTSD and depression made me want to be invisible, unattractive, and hidden away from other people… it’s made holding eye contact very difficult…
So how is it I ended up doing a yoga teacher training course again? Oh yeah, because I love yoga. And because it was suggested.
Photo credit: http://digilander.libero.it/stebama/GoddessGallery.html
But y’know, this wasn’t on the pamphlet – thrown in at no extra charge, this training will help you burn through your shit.
Yesterday I had my second opportunity to lead my fellow students through a series of asana. Scary!
My extreme nervousness is a little strange because it’s not like I’m new to performing – years as a theatre actor and bellydancer took care of that. And this is sort of like a performance, right?
Except it’s not, it’s different. There’s no flashy costume or make up to hide behind. I am not being someone or something else. There’s no loud music to disappear into.
I am just me. Unadulterated. No filters.
So, this week I figured if I could just pretend like it was a theatre show and ‘learn my lines’, I’d feel more comfortable.
I spent all week preparing – writing copious notes on each pose. And practicing, even til late Friday night, trying to get some flow happening between poses.
[Note to self: handstands at midnight are just a tad too exhilarating!]
And making sure I had the right words to say, and avoiding gap-fillers: ummm, okay, what we’ll do next is…
In the process, I realised – of course!! – the key here really is preparation. Which requires constant immersion.
Because with yoga, to teach it, you really need to be living it. Theoretical knowledge simply doesn’t cut it.
But sometimes, I think it’s the immersion I’ve been running from. Because I know if I don’t, this change that’s coming will be irrevocable.
Then, that’s what I want, right? But with that change comes a free-fall from what I’ve known (even if its stuff I’m not happy with) towards the unknown…
A Svasti that lives and breathes yoga with every fibre of my being. And a Svasti that knows my stuff, and can help spread the gift of yoga to others.
So, yesterday’s session went really well! Not perfectly of course. But about a 150% improvement on the previous week. And it was such a high!
Afterwards, I was trembling, close to tears, grateful, humble and just… feeling entirely like someone else: that other aforementioned Svasti.
As I’m leaving my teacher remarks: So you’re looking so much better lately. There’s something very striking in your eyes. I noticed it last week as well. What’s going on? You look so much happier.
I replied: It’s this work. It’s changing me. It’s helping me face up to myself and burn off more of the negativity that’s been in my life for so long. PTSD destroys your self-confidence and here I am finding it again.
Then I told her that as well as general yoga, and yoga for women I’m really interested in yoga for those who deal with depression and PTSD, as I have.
Seems I’ve chosen a specialty of sorts, and the Blacksmith’s fire is still burning…
**Update: The wonderful BlissChick alerted me to the existence of an article on Yoga and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PDF file, 435kb) from The Trauma Center in Brookline, MA. An excellent read!!**
~Svasti
Svasti: A Journey From Assault To Wholeness 
I love this writing. I was hanging on every word.
I like hearing how helpful Yoga is for people recovering from emotional trauma. It expands my sense of what Yoga is.
I enjoy the blacksmith analogy.
Thanks for this.
Bob Weisenberg
yogademystified.com
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Yeah, Svasti! The fire is good (I tell myself, too)!
The nervousness thing…
I, too, was involved in theatre and dance, and I could give a speech to thousands barely giving it a second thought.
But now I get super nervous over a small phone interview.
Why? Because I CARE about it.
So I see that nervous energy as an indicator that I am doing something real, something important, something worth the effort. 🙂
It’s an indicator that I am working and living at my edge, instead of sticking around somewhere comfortable.
And I love the idea of you focusing your teaching on people recovering. I would love to focus on movement education for people struggling with depression, because I know I would not be the person I am today without yoga and dance.
You are taking giant steps forward even if they may seem small to you. Take a look at where you were a year ago. You’re doing great girl.
This all sounds very positive, Svasti. I’m pleased for you 🙂
“I am just me. Unadulterated. No filters.”
This is what I love about all of us as we are healing; the mask comes off, we look in the mirror and finally see ourselves again, as if for the first time. And aren’t we amazed at who we are, who we have been, and who we might become?!
Such an exciting time for you. I’ve read that helping others releases dopamine in the brain. You must be seeing your sleeping habits shift…..?
What great words, Svasti. One can really see from your earlier posts until now, that you have come so far and am finding your special place. I’m so happy for you! Teaching others with PTSD sounds like an excellent idea. I mean you have been through it and know what these sufferers are dealing with. Who better to help? Wow, you’ll be changing people’s lives…forge on, Svasti!
@Bob – Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it. Yes, it never fails to amaze me just how broadly yoga can be applied.
@yogabrooks – Ahem, yes… the fire is good. Right?!! Well, some days it is!
@Blisschick – Thanks for the article (which I’m going to link to above). Nervous energy is definitely good – its available and can be harnessed. Once you get over your nerves 😉
Movement of the body is so key for recovery from depression and PTSD. Eventually that will be widely accepted as proven fact, I’m sure!
@tricia – Its a bunch of little steps strung together. How did I get to this point from where I was last year even? Good question! I could never have made that ‘leap’ if I’d thought about it as one massive step. Yet, here I am… and its something we can all do.
@la – Why thankya, ma’am!! 😀
@Michele Rosenthal – Its very nervous-making, relating to people without filters like that. But incredibly exhilarating when you realise that other people crave connections on that level, too.
And yes, sleeping habits are indeed shifting. I don’t need to sleep anywhere near as much as has been the case since the assault. Quite amazing!
@earthtoholly – That’s my hope. If I can offer yoga in a theraputic way to others, then everything I’ve been through will be worth it. So worth it. 😛
Thanks for your additional thoughts, Svasti. You’ve generated a wonderful interchange here.
Bob
what a great post. I also thought it was very interesting reading about how while you teach it’s ‘just’ you- which my first instinct would have been of course perform… but then you’re so right- there is no one else to ‘hide’ behind.
I don’t think I’ve commented before, but I have been visiting your blog and I’m so happy for you! I agree, specializing in yoga for PTSD is a wonderful, giving idea.
Many Blessings!
(ps- thanks for the wonderful suggestion on my post, I think that’s a great idea, and I might start prepping that way!)
I was hanging on every word, too. The vibrancy, the more alive parts, they’re shining through here too and it’s incredibly beautiful, Svast. I’m really happy you’re doing this. It’s amazing the power of our energy, when we finally get the chance to recognise it for ourselves 🙂
@Bob – Absolutely my pleasure!
@EcoYogini – Thanks for dropping in to comment. I’m sure there are teachers who might take a more dramatic approach. But that doesn’t work for me, for some reason… hope the home practice suggestion helps you!! 😉
@CK – aww, shucks lovey. Coming from a writer of your caliber, I’m very flattered. And yes, it is amazing what we can do with our energy once we give ourselves permission to do so!
Svasti, I am so happy for you! This entry made me smile because I could feel the satisfaction of what you are doing and the happiness in the tone of your writing–and that is so good to see. You’ve really come a remarkable way on your journey and it’s been wonderful to see (as I said last week).
I really wish you lived by me! I would *love* to take yoga from you. I am nowhere NEAR being a yogini–I’ve only been doing yoga for about a year now and while I love it, I would like to learn more about it. I bet you are just a fantastic teacher!
I’m so happy to hear you sounding so lovely and light, my friend!
Take care,
Melinda
@Melinda – Thank you! Yes, there’s a lot of satisfaction – and scariness too! But mostly it makes me happy. If I lived by you I’d love to have you in my yoga class. I don’t know what sort of teacher I am yet, but I guess I’ll find out as everything continues to unfold.
I’m just so grateful to the woman who made all of this possible – the principle of my school. She’s a wonderful lady and teacher, she knows a great deal about yoga and she’s made it possible financially as well as encouraging me to switch to the teacher training.
All the best to you as well, as always, Melinda.
svasti, love the metaphor of yoga/blacksmith, the whole fire = transformation motif.
I’ve always said that yoga cooks us, that we marinate in the juices.
if this old yoga teacher can give you some advice….of course you don’t know what sort of teacher you are yet. and even when you begin teaching you won’t know, so don’t be concerned about it. my teaching style has absolutely morphed and evolved over these 8 years.
and whatever you do as a teacher, don’t “perform.” one of my students wrote this about me: “for her, yoga is not strapping on the latest trendy yoga gear and showing off a sick inversion to intimidate — her yoga comes from the authentic intention of teaching from the heart.”
and that’s what you will do — teach from the heart. my voice is the same on the mat as it is off the mat. and so will yours be.
@Linda-Sama – Glad you like! Definitely, I feel as though I’m being cooked. Felt that way for years now, but that was focusing more on the meditation side of things. This training has been about balancing things out for me – improving my asana, and then, hey look! Somehow I’m gonna be a yoga teacher… hehe!
Thank you for your advice. I certainly don’t pretend to know how I will teach. And from teaching dancing in the past, I very much get that the students inform your teaching in any case…
I’ve done enough performing to last me a lifetime. I’ll always be a showgirl in some ways, in love with theatre and dance etc. But I find even from my limited experience to date, teaching yoga is quite unique like that. It works best when you lower your boundaries and teach from the heart, as you say.
And I’ve had great teachers and guides to date, showing me how yoga is taught in a way that allows the student to be their own teacher. Hope I get to meet you for a class or two some day. I’m sure I will! 😀
Beautiful advice, Linda.
Bob Weisenberg
@Bob – Agreed! I love it. And I welcome advice from experienced yoga teachers. Always.
This is only my second day on this website and I stumbled across your blog. The universe is quite interesting. Yesterday, I completed a scholarship to attend a yoga teacher training. I too have struggled with PTSD and depression. After the first month of attending yoga classes (several years ago) I knew that my dharma was to pass on the beautiful gift of yoga to others. Thank you for sharing your experience. It gives me hope and even made me chuckle. I agree with your comment on “living our yoga” it is so much more than asana practice. Being a student of myself I am witnessing change that is almost frightening at times. So, I keep breathing. May you be filled with joy, grace and peace as you continue on your journey.
Namaste.
Om Shanti Shanti Om
@bliss108 – Certainly the universe has a funny way of doing things sometimes! Welcome, and thanks for commenting 🙂
Best wishes to you with your yoga teacher training. It’s certainly a really profound experience, at least it was for me. The change is important – the more it keeps on coming, the better off we are. I really believe that. Standing still might be comforting, but it’s no way to really LIVE!