Offering a Little Moonglow
I've taught yoga around the world, in the sky, on the land, over the water, via multiple languages.... to students with a range of professional, cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds. All the various scenarios have demanded that I sharpen different skill sets: clear language, energetic cues, intuition, precise adjustments, etc. Recently, someone asked me what I offer in a session, and I ran through the list above. But, as I was speaking I felt... bothered. My automated response wasn't hitting the depths of my experience. I've been reflecting on this over the past few months.
Occasionally when I teach and my language fails, or I don't have enough limbs to make all the adjustments I want, I catch myself trying to mind-mold a student into a pose like a sorceress that telepathically transmutes bodies. And then it occurs to me… I'm being an asshole and robbing the student of the good shit. Yes, it is delicious to embody the archetype of the pose, and I enjoy giving people a taste of this. But the gold lies in the journey.
The most important part of my job is to hold space, to embody the patience and love the student needs to meet himself exactly where he is and find his own way, neurologically mapping uncharted territory. Territory I've since conquered in myself but momentarily forgot that the navigating skills I cultivated in the process became my compass, my gold. It’s a solo journey, but having a seasoned traveler hold space for you to move inwards and fight the good fight is like adventuring at night with the glow of the full moon contouring the lands… still daunting as fuck, but with an air of reassurance.