Dharma Wins
I suppose you could tell from the title of this entry where the tale will lead.
In short; I am a yoga teacher and love sharing my practice. I love the look on fellow yogis faces after a practice — relaxed, rejuvenated and revived. I love facing the challenges that come way by means of having to sequence classes based on those who have joined me on the mat, those who have mobility restrictions, health concerns and expanding my level of creativity. I have come to appreciate both personalised private sessions as much as group classes that truly do fill my cup and gives me a sense of purpose.
Along with the usual bout of challenges comes the flip side to all good things; last minute cancelations and no-shows.
I have very strong reactions to these situations. Disappointment, hurt, annoyance, frustration, sadness and even shame at times.
I understand everyone has their own lives. Let’s not forget, so do I.
I understand that mishaps, miscalculations and mayhem can follow suit. We might miss an alarm. We may have an elderly parent or unwell child at home to tend to. We may wake up not feeling right in our bones and body to come in for a practice.
But all too often a fellow yogi will tend to not realise there’s a human being on the other side of the spectrum.
This negativity and lack of accountability sets in real deep. I often lose my appetite. I become quiet and retreat into a shell. I lose interest in doing things I enjoy and know will boost my mood. It makes me question if the sacrifices that come with sharing my practice is even worth the while.
I’m not blaming my moods on someone else; but I am clear about understanding and recognising the effort and time dedicated to a single class. Have you considered what it takes to prepare for one 60 minutes yoga class?
I come in 30 mins early — always. For that, I leave home 45 mins early. I make sure to set up the props required from the mats to blocks and bolsters when necessary. I pick a playlist that suits the style of class. For my morning classes, I am only able to have some tea before practice because teaching on a full tummy means I could bring out what I’ve just eaten. In the evening, I push back on my meal time even though I eat early by habit.
There’s a great deal that goes unsaid and unseen.
Did you think of what the teacher has to leave behind to show up for you? Did you notice the teacher doesn’t often get to cancel a class for reasons such as a cold or ache in the back, simply because their dharma (purpose) is to teach? Showing up to an empty class or a slot where no one shows ultimately shows up has its own mental repercussions too.
The hardest thing to do is, to not take it personally. I try to think of cancelations and no-shows as a blip, but then again I am only human too.
This morning was rough. My workshop was scheduled to begin at 9.30am. I was up from 5am having only gone to bed a little after 11pm. That’s on me. I have been waking every hour to check on the time because I am experiencing some level of anxiety when it comes to my early morning class — I fear I will oversleep and miss them. So lack of sleep and it was also my first workshop day. I have two very interested individuals who kept messaging me so I had hopes at least one if not both would turn up. I had one cancelations and one confirmation.
My mantra is to show up even if it is for just one student. That is a part of a my dharma. I can’t help it, honestly. One, better than none. It teaches me to remain humble and rooted in what brought me onto the mat in the first place, even if economically or financially it doesn’t make sense. And so, I got to my workshop a good hour in advance. I laid the props out, chose a simple playlist and kept going through my notes and key words I wanted to say, prepping myself up for the final moment.
No shows.
To say I felt hurt is an understatement.
And I resorted to the only way I know how to deal — shrink and be silent. I retreat into a shell and stay there till I feel more safe and stable. While being silent on the outside however, there’s plenty going on in my mind. A plethora of flashing thoughts — am I not good enough, have not done enough, what did I do wrong, maybe I should have checked in better and it goes on and on and on…. — till it also reaches a point I ask myself if it is all worth the while.
I’ll get over it. In a day, or two.
My dharma will take over. I am of service. I learned this practice first for myself and I teach because I wish to share the gift with others. The purpose has not changed.
