Breaking up with your yoga teacher – part 2

Tags

2 William Street Balaclava, Abuse, Anxiety, arrogant, ass, assume, breaking up, Bullying, detachment, humiliated, Louise Goodvach, Melbourne, reactive, rebuked, Shadow Yoga, shit-palooza, Stress, vairagya, Yoga Moves, yoga teacher abuse, yoga teaching, zero tolerance

Click on the photo to read Yoga Dawg’s brilliant rap/poem/song!

[Read part 1 first]

Act II: After-words

So that same night and before I’d even made it home, I sent her this email:

I am sorry to walk out of your class but I was feeling very angry and it seemed to be the least disruptive thing I could do right then.

I feel that you judge me very harshly. Your assumption that I have been trying to tell people what to do in your class is incorrect. Perhaps it’s the tone of my voice, but I am usually attempting to confirm something for myself rather than tell anyone else what to do.

At the beginning of the class you spoke of never really knowing what the cause of various things are. Yet you are so certain of my motivations that you chose to embarrass me in front of everyone.

That is what I found so incredible.

Perhaps you don’t think much of my previous training or my current abilities but I am only ever attempting to improve my own practice. Generally I tend to speak a lot and it’s something I continue to work on. But my verbalizing of my own thoughts on things is not ever meant to be instruction to others.

I am sorry if you thought otherwise, but I find myself very upset at your treatment of me this evening.

Unfortunately, I was in shock and I was stressed. My body has lost its ability to handle sudden stresses like that. So I didn’t sleep well that night and the next day… well, I wrote about it here.

It sucked. That part isn’t anyone’s fault. I’m doing everything I can do heal my body and mind but there’s stuff that just isn’t resolved yet.

Hello? And once again WTF?

I wasn’t sure if I was going to hear back from her at all, which of course added to my stress. Even though my mind was cool with things, my body wasn’t.

Sometime on Friday I got a reply, if you can call it that. It was just a single sentence:

See you next week.

Oh really?!!

That pretty much resolved my will I/wont I go back dilemma. So I wrote two lines back in response:

No you won’t. I won’t be returning to your classes.

I have better things to do with my time than be abused in a yoga class.

Say what you like about my own reactiveness, but I think her behaviour was both abusive and completely unnecessary.

Then, after reading (or perhaps dismissing?) my email, she did not acknowledge what happened or make even the tiniest of apologies. In fact, she blew me off. As far as I’m concerned, that’s both arrogant and a pretty poor business decision.

In the past I’ve recommended this studio to other people. On this blog, I’ve actively written about my experiences with and love of Shadow Yoga. I’ve been nothing but positive and supportive of this yoga studio and have never had any negative interactions with anyone there ever before.

Her reply to mine?

Take good care of yourself.

And with that we were done. No longer was she my yoga teacher.

[Full disclosure: I might’ve also sent her an email after that one telling her that I think she kind of sucks, and that I hope she one day learns to apply what she teachers to the way she treats people – harsh but ultimately not unreasonable, I think.]

In itself, that’s not a big deal. I’m not emotionally attached to her or to the studio, and I sure as hell didn’t have her up on a pedestal (been there, done that before).

I do love Shadow Yoga, and I’ll continue to develop my home practice. There’s a couple of other studios here in Melbourne that teach it, but they’re not terribly close to where I live. And unfortunately, when the founders of Shadow Yoga come to Melbourne, they teach out of her studio. Bummer.

Detachment doesn’t mean being a cold hard biatch

If you’ve been doing yoga for a while, you might’ve heard about “detachment” (vairagya), which is much misunderstood aspect of yogic philosophy.

Non-attachment is not suppression: Non-attachment is not a mere personality trait that one practices in dealing with the other people of the world. It is very easy to fool oneself into thinking that non-attachment is being practiced when what is really happening is pretending to be non-attached.
http://www.swamij.com/yoga-sutras-11216.htm

When abusing me in class, my now ex-yoga teacher was mean, unpleasant and VERY reactive. Afterwards, she was all icy-coldness and hey, maybe in her mind that’s what she considers detachment to be (once again, an assumption on my part – I have no idea what she thinks).

But detachment doesn’t mean that you don’t care, or that you don’t have feelings. It just means that you don’t self-identify with them, and you’re not invested in the outcome of a situation.

IF she’d really wanted me to come back to classes, a simple apology would have made all the difference, but that sort of thing should not have to be prompted.

Unless of course, her plan all along was to have me leave?

Keep your integrity close and your humility even closer

We all make mistakes. We all do things we kick ourselves for later (heck, I know I do!). But if our actions have upset someone, no matter what we think of the situation it’s generally good practice to apologise.

For me, that’s a part of being a good teacher and it’s something I’ve always admired about my own Guru.

As he unfolds his own spiritual development ever further, he’ll say things like: Previously I thought this was true, but now I know X, Y and Z. What I told you before was incorrect.

It’s perfectly okay to admit to mistakes, but of course you need humility for that. The more, the better.

And speaking of detachment, I know of no one with better mastery of it than my Guru. And yet he is warm. He will hug people. He’ll laugh, he’ll dance, drink, show anger and if he sees it’s required, he’ll apologise. He’s an awesome role model like that.

There’s nothing in this life that’s not a part of the whole. Nothing.

And if you recognise that you’ve made a mistake, then WOMAN-UP and apologise (shout out to Lo for that phrase!).

Be humble. Being a yoga teacher doesn’t mean that you’re always right.

Act III: Bottom line

I’m grateful for what I’ve learned, and I still love Shadow Yoga and will continue my practice. Just not at the studio of someone who won’t even acknowledge what happened or talk to me about it.

Perhaps I won’t learn as quickly as I might by attending regular classes but thems the breaks.

Change is the only constant

Another of my friends, Linda, reminded me:

It’s not always a bad thing to be betrayed. Many times it happens when we need to move on from a person, place. And of course happens with people we are close to so that’s why it hurts more. Betrayal is not necessarily “bad energy” because it’s “good” for change.

In my grand crazy plan for my future, there were only a couple of things making me hesitate about leaving Melbourne again (eventually). There’s my sister and nieces, and my Shadow Yoga practice being tied to this particular yoga studio.

I’ll always have my sister and nieces, even if I’m far away. And I’ll always have what I know of Shadow Yoga. Who knows? I might even move to a place where I can study with another teacher some day.

But I sure as heck don’t have to accept abuse in order to learn. No one does.

~Svasti

(Also, big thanks to CK, Nancy, Rachel, Cherie, Kimberly (as well as Lo and Linda) for their real-time support on Twitter while I worked through this shit-palooza!)

**September 2013 update: Ummmm, dear judgey and outraged people reading this post and deciding that I’m being ridiculous. A few things:

1. This post was written well over three years ago. So, y’know, as you can imagine, I’ve moved on since then.

2. I am entitled to my feelings and experiences. This is my blog. So coming here and psychoanalyzing me and telling me I’m wrong? Ermmm, HOW WOULD YOU KNOW? Coz you don’t know.

3. Unless you are me or the teacher in question, you’ve got no right to interpret the situation.

4. See point #1. This is O-V-E-R. Yeah, it’s an historical piece of writing on my blog. Get over it and go out and live your live. Be happy. I sure am!**

Honesty box Tuesday [1]

Tags

Anger, Compassion, detachment, ego, feisty, honesty, idiotic behaviour, Kindness, Tias Little

• Yoga teachers are not perfect!
• Regardless of how much yoga I do, I have a feisty nature. The fuse that triggers my feisty-ness is long but when invoked, my anger isn’t pleasant for anyone.
• I have a very low tolerance for idiotic behaviour when coming from people I think should know better.
• These days I’ve generally got a pretty good handle on detachment and letting go of my “stuff”. You could say I’ve had a lot of practice! But sometimes, someone offends me in a way that REALLY presses my buttons. Twenty other so-called insults that might look almost identical pass me by. I laugh, I see the bigger picture and I have compassion for myself and the other party. Then, the twenty-first insult comes along and I am mightily pissed off. I take deep, deep offense and I feel that the other person owes me a heartfelt apology. Until I get that apology, I hold a grudge. I am not friendly to that person and I can hold onto that for a long, long time. It’s stupid, and it doesn’t make sense. I’m not proud of it, but that’s how it is. Eventually I chip-chip-chip away at my own stupidity and pigheadedness. I finally let go, but it’s a hard lesson. I can still be an idiot at times…
• Tonight, teaching my second weekly regular yoga class… I felt a little burst of ego bubbling to the surface when I saw there were repeat students from the previous week. My ego translated this as: they must have enjoyed MY class! Cue the swell of pride. Kinda icky really, since teaching is just so NOT about me.
• I’m not really a fan of Elephant Journal, but I really REALLY love this article: Anorexia and Yoga on the Runway, by Tias Little. THANK GOODNESS for Tias! If only all men and women could be accepting of our bodies like this!
• And then there is yoga teaching: teaching is such a different way of understanding yoga. I have a responsibility not just to myself but to my students, and I want them to learn more than just the “correct” physical movements of downward facing dog.
• I have a vast body of yoga knowledge somewhere in this person-shaped flesh-pod that identifies as me. Over ten years of meditation, yogic philosophy, asana practice and all the rest! To me, this represents only a beginning – I’ve decades of study ahead of me! But I can only genuinely share those teachings that I’ve embodied and taken on as my own. And drip-drip-drip feeding these things to my students because I will never forget how overwhelming it all was to me way back when. There’s a lot to learn and it’s all marvelous. So I slowly pass on the tiniest of moments.
• Somewhere in the middle of today I saw a re-tweet from the wonderful Cora Wen:
  
• Oh yes. So important. Be kind – to yourself and to others, in your yoga practice and your day-to-day life. This wee Twittered seed became the theme of my class this evening.
• Because it is not kind of me to be short with people I brand “idiots” for their behaviour. And it’s definitely not kind to myself or others to hold grudges, no matter how few or how mild they might be.
• I also need to be kind to my body – gentle with it while it gets used to the idea that I’m no longer in the siege-mode of recent years.
  I must re-learn to nourish it with good foods, and not just eat as a mindless function of being alive.
• And I need to reach out to my students who are no doubt giving themselves a hard time about their yoga practice: what they can/can’t do; if the person next to them is better/worse than they are; straining to get into a pose; berating themselves for their busy mind or their injuries.
• I know they need to offer themselves this kindness because I have to remember to offer it to myself, too. Perhaps not in the same ways anymore, or to the same extent. But still, do I give myself the same latitude I would give to a beloved friend? Erm, sometimes…
• Kindness towards yourself and others is: honesty and acceptance of how things are; being aware of one’s weaknesses and strengths; observing one’s actions and thoughts without judging them harshly; and letting things be as they are.
• I tell my yoga students that nothing is wrong with the way they do their yoga. It isn’t important if they can touch their toes or not. What’s important is how connected they are to their breath and the movement. This is kindness and honesty in action.
• Just like last week, the words I say while teaching come out of a place that isn’t connected to the self-conscious, trip-over-my-own-feet daggy part of my nature that gets tongue-tied in the spotlight.
• As I talk everyone through savasana at the beginning of the class I visualise my teachers floating above my head and tears in my eyes, I offer them gratitude and love for the wisdom they’ve passed on to me.
• The teachings of yoga – way beyond descriptions of alignment or form – have their own consciousness. And yes, they are teachings of kindness and honesty, too.

~Svasti

Everything is different, nothing has changed

Tags

aftershocks, Birthday, detachment, faeries riding rainbow coloured dragonflies, Mexican, muddle-headed, Pinot Noir, radically altered, self-birthday present, Shadow Yoga, tamasic, time, Yoga, Yoga teacher

Friday night I drank perhaps a couple too many of a totally lush Pinot Noir (note: too much in my books is still relatively sober for others). Alcohol and yoga don’t mix very well… seems to mess with my balance and joint flexibility. Weird but true!

Next morning I awoke another year older and feeling somewhat tamasic, but not enough to keep me lying down. See, I had work to do.

At my yoga school for the last official day of my training – a place I’ve spent nearly every Saturday of this year and many other days in between. Taught my final practice class (a little Pinot muddle-headed), and walked out with a letter in my pocket suggestively claiming I’m now officially a yoga teacher.

Weird.

Exciting.

Best. Birthday. Present. Ever.

Hung out with my fellow fledgling yoga teachers and discussed our plans for conquering small patches of Melbourne with our mad yoga skillz.

Yeah!

Ate at my local cafe and chatted to my favourite proprietor (I’m soooo brave now!), shopped and eventually wandered home to find this in my mailbox…

No silly, not the contents! Just the wrapping… (thanks Yoga Dork, and also for the little YD sticker that came in the package!) 😉

All gussied up, ate a truckload of authentic Mexican food that night (as verified by a newly acquired American friend we prevailed upon to join our little sortie).

Sunday, final Shadow Yoga class for the year, pedicure, facial (self-birthday present) and late lunch with the family, purportedly in my honour, even if I was the last to be invited (don’t ask!). Ah well, that’s how it goes here sometimes…

But actually, I’m not different to who I was yesterday (or perhaps I am?). I’ve been becoming both this age and this yoga teacher all year. Some (including me) might argue, it’s been going on for much longer than that. And yet, Saturday marked an official status for both. Curiouser and curiouser.

See, I have this theory about the passing of time, in that it doesn’t really pass at all. But then, I never quite know what to do with all that stuff that looks very much like time gone by? Maybe I’ll figure it out one day. Til then, I simply nod and smile, looking at the pretty coloured lights.

Guess the point is… I still feel like me. But the ‘me’ that I feel like was never a yoga teacher before right now. I recall the non-yoga teacher ‘me’ but she isn’t here any more… there are vast miles between the ‘me’ of five, ten, twenty years ago, and now. But would I be here if not for that person?

Ageing, I increase my happiness. My self-knowledge, self-honesty and wisdom. But was I never not this age?

There’s a quote that says something like… “you must lose yourself before you can find out who you really are”. Which I interpret as having as much to do with concepts of detachment from materialism, as it does with beginning to see the world (including oneself) as it all really is.

I’m almost certain I lived a large portion of my life in some kind of imagined version of the world, starring an imagined version of myself. It all looked pretty much like reality, but slightly veiled or tinted with imagined flourishes: perhaps a spray of violet overlaid with a mother of pearl mosaic here; a host of faeries riding rainbow coloured dragonflies over there, just beyond my very own pirate ship anchored off-shore in the distance.

And I resided as much in those flourishes as anywhere else.

Still do sometimes – I think it’s just a part of who I am. Things have always made more sense as pictures, energy and colours than in any other form. But nowadays I can see the difference, because I did it: I lost myself.

I lost who I thought I was when a fist connected with my face and the back of my head smashed into a concrete wall. All illusions were shredded as I was terrorised by a stranger I previously thought I’d known. And my view of the world altered drastically when I was more than half-convinced I was going to die… I burned and descended into hell, taking everything I thought I knew with me. Which, it seems, triggered the emergency warning signal – resulting in a re-boot of my brain and sense of self.

‘Course, I had to deal with the aftershocks and the confusion… so much confusion…

Spent four years being lost (or maybe it was much longer than that?), wandering aimlessly adrift.

But… I’m beginning to see how my new operating system works, especially now that it’s all loaded up with new programs (e.g. Yoga Teacher v1.0) and a healthy dose of (growing) confidence (note to self: must keep up maintenance on confidence!).

I’ve learned I have strengths I never imagined I could possess. And I’ve begun to understand what makes me truly, utterly and inexplicably happy. Things that make my soul sing.

So here I am. All new and yet not. Radically altered and yet the same.

~Svasti