There has been an influx of new students in my classes recently. Some are new to yoga, others are just new to my class, but the bottom line is the new students have been outnumbering the regulars.
This always happens in the beginning of January with "The New Year Resolutioners." I expect it in January. But it's the middle of July! What gives? (Besides the fact that word of my awesomeness is obviously spreading, natch).
Anyway, an influx of newbies usually meansdisaster that it won't be the best class. The newness of students (both new to yoga and new to me) often means they'll struggle in my class: alignment will be crappy, mindfulness noticeably absent, and frustrations (theirs) high. (More on this another day.)
But last night, for some reason (I could delve into my yoga theories on why but I'm feeling merciful today so I'll spare you), this particular class was amazing. Amazing! The kind of mindful, hardworking, beautiful class that makes teaching feel vital and joyful and worthwhile.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one to notice. Two new students came up to me after class, dizzy with their yoga buzz, and gushed about how awesome they felt. I wonder if they'll ever come back. Then two regulars came up, yoga buzzed and somewhat puzzled, and said, "That was an especially awesome class!"
We talked about why there were so many new people (a mystery) and why the class had been so mellow (also mysterious). Then one of them, a super-fit dude (who I'll call Super-Fit Dude) who looks like he'd be more at home busting out a triathalon than triangle pose, hesitated. "I actually had a vision tonight in savasana," he finally confided, looking a little uncomfortable. He looked like he's usually more comfortable debating the merits of muscle milk vs. protein shakes.
I tried to lift my jaw off the floor. "Really? Uh...I mean that's great."
"Yeah, it was like my mind went totally blank and I had no thoughts and just peace at the end." He tried to sound like it was no big thing but his face said, What the heck happened to me??!!
I could barely contain my glee/amazement. "That's awesome!! That's what yoga's all about! That's what everyone's trying to get to!!"
I stared at him. Didn't he know? This what monks and meditators and yogis and Buddhists and Hindus and seekers of all kinds are trying to get to: mental stillness! peace!no more monkey chatter!
Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, which is like the yoga bible, maps out an eight-limb system. Its first lines, in Sanskrit, obv, are: "Atha yoganusasanam. Yogas chitta vritti nerodaha." Which, as I learned it, translate to: "And now the continuation of yoga (teachings). The goal of yoga is to still the fluctuations of the mind."
Holy crap. Super-Fit Dude chitta (mind) vritti (restless fluctuations) nerodahah'd (ceased/stilled)? That's amazing!!
"Well, only for like a few minutes," he demurred modestly.
OK, this bears repeating: Super-Fit Dude chitta vritti nerodahah'd! That's freaking awesome. I'm not sure who was more surprised: Super-Fit Dude or Super Fit-Dude's teacher!
This always happens in the beginning of January with "The New Year Resolutioners." I expect it in January. But it's the middle of July! What gives? (Besides the fact that word of my awesomeness is obviously spreading, natch).
Anyway, an influx of newbies usually means
But last night, for some reason (I could delve into my yoga theories on why but I'm feeling merciful today so I'll spare you), this particular class was amazing. Amazing! The kind of mindful, hardworking, beautiful class that makes teaching feel vital and joyful and worthwhile.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one to notice. Two new students came up to me after class, dizzy with their yoga buzz, and gushed about how awesome they felt. I wonder if they'll ever come back. Then two regulars came up, yoga buzzed and somewhat puzzled, and said, "That was an especially awesome class!"
We talked about why there were so many new people (a mystery) and why the class had been so mellow (also mysterious). Then one of them, a super-fit dude (who I'll call Super-Fit Dude) who looks like he'd be more at home busting out a triathalon than triangle pose, hesitated. "I actually had a vision tonight in savasana," he finally confided, looking a little uncomfortable. He looked like he's usually more comfortable debating the merits of muscle milk vs. protein shakes.
I tried to lift my jaw off the floor. "Really? Uh...I mean that's great."
"Yeah, it was like my mind went totally blank and I had no thoughts and just peace at the end." He tried to sound like it was no big thing but his face said, What the heck happened to me??!!
I could barely contain my glee/amazement. "That's awesome!! That's what yoga's all about! That's what everyone's trying to get to!!"
I stared at him. Didn't he know? This what monks and meditators and yogis and Buddhists and Hindus and seekers of all kinds are trying to get to: mental stillness! peace!no more monkey chatter!
Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, which is like the yoga bible, maps out an eight-limb system. Its first lines, in Sanskrit, obv, are: "Atha yoganusasanam. Yogas chitta vritti nerodaha." Which, as I learned it, translate to: "And now the continuation of yoga (teachings). The goal of yoga is to still the fluctuations of the mind."
Holy crap. Super-Fit Dude chitta (mind) vritti (restless fluctuations) nerodahah'd (ceased/stilled)? That's amazing!!
"Well, only for like a few minutes," he demurred modestly.
OK, this bears repeating: Super-Fit Dude chitta vritti nerodahah'd! That's freaking awesome. I'm not sure who was more surprised: Super-Fit Dude or Super Fit-Dude's teacher!
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