It’s snowing outside here in the majestic Allegheny Mountains of West Virginia. It feels fresh everywhere. The snow has left a clean blanket on the ground. The trees and flowers are beginning to bud. I, too, have decided to make a fresh start.
I’m at the historic Greenbrier Resort, founded as a health spa in the 1700’s. The U.S. government utilized the resort as a top secret bomb shelter, but after the Cold War ended, decided to break down its secret walls. Like The Greenbrier and its bunker, I have a secret that only my partners-in-crime and immediate family know about.
My “Big Secret” is that I am going to Yoga Teacher Training.
What’s the big deal? It’s been a secret up ‘til now because I haven’t wanted to open my walls and expose my insecurities. I tell myself that I could never be a Yoga Teacher.
Yoga Teachers know how to do all the poses effortlessly. I’m afraid of falling on my face and breaking my neck in Crow Pose. I’m not strong enough to do a handstand. My arms are too short and my thighs are too fat to do a bind.
Yoga Teachers are supposed to have their acts together. They are peaceful, calm, and able to handle any situation `a la Dalai Lama. I’m not yogic enough. I yell at my kids and hang up on telemarketers. God forbid there should be a hidden camera in our house before dinnertime for Karma to see. People will see me in public and say, “SHE’S a Yoga Teacher??”
Yoga Teachers know how to dissect and explain the poses. They feel at home speaking in front of a crowd. They know yogic philosophy and can even speak a foreign language. I can’t teach. I’ll stammer and forget what to say. I’ll get my rights and lefts mixed up. I’m so boring that no one will come to my classes. I’ll forget why I’m in front of all these people and suddenly have to go to the bathroom.
What has changed so that I am now ready to come out of the closet? I’m ready to evolve, and here in the cocoon of Yoga Teacher Training it feels safe enough. In Training we are studying the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, which are philosophical guidelines for how to live in order to ease a life of suffering. The first limb of Patanjali’s eightfold path are the five Yamas, or self-restraints: (1) Ahimsa, or non-violence, (2) Satya, or truthfulness, (3) Asteya, or non-stealing, (4) Brahmacharya, or celibacy, and (5) Aparigraha, or non-grasping. Learning this new material has stirred up and inspired new ways of thinking in me. If I am to practice Ahimsa, I will be kinder to myself. That means loving myself as I am despite what others may think of me, and letting go of my egotism. If I am to practice Satya, I will be honest and admit how afraid I am for people to know who I really am. If I am to practice Asteya, I will believe that I can create valuable, interesting classes that will help others. There will be no lack of people who will find my skills useful in some way. I’ll find my yogis and my yogis will find me. If I am to practice Brahmacharya, I will use my life force to practice the yoga poses to become stronger (and eventually do that handstand!). I’ll learn to channel my energies to joyously express my best self with enthusiasm. Lastly, if I am to practice Aparigraha, I will generously share what I have learned with others, and not be tied to the outcome.
Namaste i l y 