Yoga and the Unexpected Joy in Teaching


"So, it's kind of like a burpee," he said, smiling over at me.

"Yes, that's right!" I said. "A sun salutation is like the burpee of yoga."

We smiled, standing at the top of our mats, hands in prayer. "OK, let's do one more," he said, and moving in sync with the breath, we began the flow.


Today I experienced such a beautiful, renewing, eye-opening practice. 

Every breath, a release. Every pose taught, a relearning.

I am so grateful when I have the chance to share yoga with someone who's never practiced before. Today, I walked us through simple sun salutations, giving simple cues on the movements and the breath. It was a satisfying challenge adding the dialogue to the asana, and I felt that thrill of being able to teach, to vocalize the practice as it's happening.

I was humbled, watching him experience Downward Dog for the first time, seeing him light up after doing the first vinyasa where he felt the flow between poses.

I smiled as he watched me take Crow and Firefly and headstand. "Whoa!" he said, looking over. "I definitely can't do that," he said. 

"It looks crazy, I know," I said. "But it's like anything that you try for the first time. It seems impossible until you give it a chance."


And he listened, letting his body try out Crow with my suggestion about thinking of his head as a counterweight to the rest of his body. "Instead of thinking about using all of your arm strength to hold yourself up, think about tipping your head forward to cause your toes to come up off the mat."


Slowly, trusting my words, he did the pose. And as I watched him hover above the mat for a short moment, wide-eyed and grinning, I had a good feeling that he would be back for more yoga, and that was the most joyful part of my day.


And I felt more beautiful and powerful and strong than I have in a long time standing in Warrior II, explaining to him the way energy flows out the fingertips, the way the legs build strength. And I felt fearless in Bird of Paradise and in headstand, balancing, rooting firmly into my drishti.

It felt vulnerable and intimate and true to share my practice, to give him a glimpse of what I've gained from yoga (not only physically, but the mental focus, too).

I was reminded today how desperately I want to give yoga away. I want to share it. I want to help people benefit from the practice in the ways I have. 

I feel called that my purpose -- my dharma, God's plan for me -- definitely involves teaching yoga.

There's a quote by Sally Kempton that goes like this: "The very heart of yoga is abhyasa-- steady effort in the direction you want to go."

I will continue to move in the direction of teaching. I will share what I can, when I can.

I look forward to experiencing class with Sri Dharma Mittra at Wanderlust this month, and I hope that next February will be the right time for me to train with him in NYC. I'm excited to put energy into my path toward teaching yoga.

It honors me to share the practice. Thank you, beginners. Thank you, yoga.

Namaste.