Tag Archives: student

To Be Held


As a teacher I can be in control;
I tell you what to do,
and I expect you to do it.
But when I’m the student,
I get antsy…I want to fiddle with things.
Tonight I was a student
in a breathwork class.
I remembered the necessity of trust
and surrender,
allowing the teacher to hold the space for me.
It felt strange at first,
because I am chronically the one who does the holding.
As I breathed
and the layers of my emotional body were peeled back
to reveal what was percolating underneath it all,
I remembered the saying
How you do anything is how you do everything.
I thought about how LIfe as my teacher
must get so frustrated with me, my fiddling.
Life just wants me to trust and surrender,
allowing the space to be held for me,
allowing myself to be held.

Forever Student


Today I was a student*,
and I felt so grateful
that for once
I didn’t have to prepare the lesson.
I love it when my only job
is to be open to new learning.
I think I’ll be a student

*Today was Day 1 of Nikki Myers weekend-long Y12SR training. I am so grateful to spend the next two days with other yoga teachers who are interested in learning about sustainable recovery from addiction, and who want to apply this learning to bring value to countless beings walking the path of recovery.

Ready to Learn


I subbed out my morning class
I subbed out my evening class
I subbed out tomorrow morning’s class too.
The yoga teacher needs to stay home
and remember she is still a student.
Somehow my yoga is simply being with my body
in this state of illness, exhaustion.
I need to really feel and notice what has happened.
The worry and the stress wore away at me
and here I am.
If I won’t learn the lesson this time,
it will just keep repeating itself until I do.
I want to learn.
I am ready to learn.

Learning Every Day


To set down the burden
of needing to know
of needing to prove what I know
of needing the approval of others
and to stand
with childlike wonder
open, curious
about this amazing life–
this is freedom.
With spaciousness like this
within my heart, within my mind
life never ceases
to surprise and delight me,
and I am so grateful.
May I set down the burden
of an expert’s mask,
and stand innocently
waiting to be taught
by whomever and whatever
will teach me.
I am excited to be learning
every day
for the rest of my life.
Thank you life.

The Place Beyond Words


As I sit preparing another class,
looking in book after book,
and on site after site
to find the perfect words to express
that which is beyond words,
to frame that which
cannot be contained,
I muse about how I’ll always be a student.
This is good.
This keeps me humble.
This allows me to meet my students
where they are
and feel compassion for their process.
And then I feel a need to drop the labels.
I am not a womanmotherteacherstudentfrienddaughteremployeewriter
I am a being who shares some of what I know,
who is grateful for what others share,
who is glad to relax into being,
into the place beyond words.

Such a Joy Being a Student Again


It is such a joy
being a student again.

I didn’t have to speak–
I could listen
I didn’t have to watch
anyone else–
I could watch myself.
I didn’t have to plan a class
or walk around
making sure everyone
was focusing on their practice–
I could focus on my own practice,
my own body, my own breath.

It felt like a vacation!
I laughed,
I felt delighted.
It all felt so playful and free.

It is such a joy
being a student again.

Lifelong Learner


The Sanskrit workshop came to a close, and I wondered when I’d be able to study the alphabet again. We discussed study groups, other workshops and trainings; I hope to review what I learned this weekend, add to what I have learned, and be more adept at the language.  It’s wonderful to be a student, to have the freedom to watch the teacher and absorb the information.

Now I am feeling so wiped out, so here’s a poem.  Good night everyone.


I love being the student,
for one moment setting down the responsibility of teacher,
and with nothing to prove, just being present
and enjoying what is in front of me.

I wish for a lifetime of moments spent learning.
The day I’ll be done learning is the day this body is shed.

Yes, I will be a lifelong learner–
nothing to prove, just going within and accepting this self
without conditions.

After a lifetime of learning, I might finally know who I really am.



Numbers, Numbers


Numbers dictate so many of my decisions, so many of my feelings. I’m realizing that they’re tied inextricably to every facet of my life, but in this post I will focus on my work.

As a yoga teacher I need to adhere to a strict time schedule. I always leave one hour before a class begins so that I can arrive and get settled thirty minutes prior to class. I watch the miles per gallon that my car gets as I drive. When I arrive, I check how many students have signed in on-line. I look at the attendance of the class that started an hour before mine. In my own class, I count the number of students who come…and this is where I really get hung up on numbers.

A full class = I am a successful yoga teacher, my students love me

A half-full class = I am a halfway successful yoga teacher, and my students like me okay

A small yoga class = I am a rotten teacher, and nobody likes me

Beyond the number of bodies in the room and how that number dictates my feeling of success while teaching, there are the numbers attached to how much I’m being paid for my time. The pay for six out of my seven weekly classes is determined by student attendance. I become obsessed with calculating. How much did I just make when I taught that class? What was my hourly rate while teaching? When I have a very full class, I feel elated, because I was paid well for my time, and I’ll bring more abundance back home to my family. When I teach a smaller class, I feel disheartened, because my time away from my family isn’t generating enough income to justify my being away.

At least this is what the loudest part of me says. I’m really starting to see that the loudest part is often my inner critic, and it is so accustomed to being king that it doesn’t allow the other voices to speak up.  But somehow, through it all, I know they’re there.

There is a voice that says, “If you make a difference in the life of just one student today, then it was totally worth it to show up and teach. It doesn’t matter how much money you made.”

Another voice suggests, “You’re gaining experience, regardless of how much money you made. You are connecting with adults outside of the house. You are sharing the best part of yourself with people who need to come home to being.”

Somebody else offers, “Success isn’t determined by a number. Success is determined by the look of bliss on your students’ faces when they emerge from relaxation, ready to step out into the world with the gifts of strength, flexibility, balance, focus, and deep breathing. Success is determined by how much of your heart and soul you put into your work. Success is determined by how you meet your weaknesses and choose to transform them, so that you can learn, and grow, and change.”

Most of the time I can overcome the voice of the emotional system and enjoy teaching yoga, even to a very small class. But I’m also waging a battle with the critic that is battering me down, telling me this is futile, this is a sign that I’m a failure, that people don’t like me, they don’t enjoy my teaching.

I watch how the class before mine had twice as many students, and the class after mine had three times as many. Now granted, those are hot classes, and it’s cold as heck outside…but this isn’t good enough for my inner critic.

No, it needs my classes to be packed all of the time, or else it’s never good enough.

I wish I could stop counting. The numbers haunt me. They are a classic example of being stuck in polarities. I often encourage my students to move beyond ideas of right and wrong, pleasure and pain, success and failure, like and dislike. I remind them that breathing can give us the space to experience the being beyond duality. I invite them to let this moment be enough, without the need to fix or change anything. I tell them, in this moment, in this pose, let it be enough to just breathe. And just breathe again.

I would that I could follow my own advice. Critic says, And you’re a hypocrite too.

I would probably be mortified if any of my regular students came across this post. I don’t want them to think that I look at them as just a number. I actually have a great deal of love and affection for my students. I learn their names, I often know the names of their family members, I know what kind of jobs they have, and what breaks their heart.

If a student of mine read this post, I’d want to tell them:

Please know that the self in me is so grateful for the self in you. All this talk about numbers comes from a scared little girl who wants to be loved, and recognized, and celebrated. But that’s not my true self, that just fear talking. I want to grow out of this fear, so that I can be more authentic for you. I want to free myself from this obsession with numbers, so that I can be even more present, even more true as a teacher. I’m doing this exploration so that I can take a step closer to freedom. Forgive my humanness. Forgive the broken pieces that emerge from my darkness and tear through this moment with envy, bitterness, and regret. I’ll keep showing up, and I hope you will too.

Still, I hope none of my students reads this. It’s all pretty embarrassing. I’ve had these kinds of talks with my husband, close friends, family, and therapist– but I never thought I would make this information available to anyone on the internet who somehow stumbles upon it.

So there you have it, more proof that I’m a human with feelings. It’s not pretty, but it’s honest. That counts for something, right?