What's it all about, and do I have to hug trees?

After posting last night's blog, it struck me that I've yet to delve into the profound journey I've embarked on over the past two months—the very reason behind this blog!

My tendency is to sidestep personal topics, an old habit I'm challenging. So, in the spirit of Brene Brown-esque vulnerability, let me invite you into my experience of becoming an instructor. It's far more than perfecting asanas (yoga poses); it involves delving into Sanskrit (the sacred language of Hinduism), understanding the intricacies of the human body's bones and muscles, and exploring the rich history of yoga.

Completing my second weekend intensive feels like a triumph. Over 2.5 days, I immersed myself in expanding my understanding of yoga. Alongside this intensive training, I actively engaged in 10 yoga classes and observed tailored sessions for individuals facing physical challenges. Looking forward, I'm excited about co-teaching a class in April and beginning my student project in May, which involves leading five 90-minute sessions for a special population.

I must confess, these weekends fill me with excitement and then wipe me of energy by the end of the final day. I've always had a passion for learning, especially when it's something I'm genuinely interested in. My fellow yogis have become like family, each with their own captivating stories. Most importantly, they share a common desire for a more peaceful and meaningful life. The exhaustion I experience afterwards is less physical and more emotional. We’re pushing ourselves to learn, sure, but we’re also learning yoga’s purest form and we’re using breathing techniques that I refer to as “dusting out the attic.” It really unearths old memories and emotions.

Yoga’s not all peace, tree-huggers and incense. There are students in my class who are also chefs, psychiatrists, government employees and IT consultants. Three students are taking the class to deepen their understanding of yoga and have no intention of ever teaching it.

Hatha yoga, the yoga that I am getting certified to teach, arrived in the US in the 1920s and various other forms of yoga were popularized by the hippie and new age movements.

The weekends kick-off with a chant (right, I realize the contradiction to the first sentence in the previous paragraph). The chant is now a part of my daily meditation practice. Sound is used as part of the yoga experience. It’s less about what you hear, but what you feel in your body. The belief is that these sounds can help reduce levels of stress and anxiety, rebalance your emotional body and provide you with the opportunity to perceive subtle vibrations while cleansing your energetic channels.

The chant we recite each weekend is so surreal to me: https://youtu.be/K3N0A9nDn-I?si=_LIyagEQQ5lrBiHT

The chant translated: Om, May we all be protected May we all be nourished May we work together with great energy May our intelect be sharpened (may our study be effective) Let there be no Animosity amongst us Om, peace (in me), peace (in nature), peace (in divine forces)

Our instructors, Kelly and Lucy, both seasoned practitioners with decades of experience, bring unique perspectives to our sessions. Kelly, the studio's new owner, possesses a masterful understanding of yoga and Sanskrit, while Lucy, with her infectious humor, is dedicated to teaching wounded veterans and seniors. Together, they guide us through Hatha yoga, emphasizing spine and joint health—a fundamental starting point for newcomers before exploring more dynamic practices like Vinyasa or Bikram.

The weekend intensives, though fleeting, feel like months of profound study. Amidst PowerPoint presentations and textbook references, we dedicate ample time to practicing asanas and teaching them to our peers. Last weekend, we delved into a philosophical discussion on the Bhagavad Gita, a cornerstone of Hindu scripture. Each of us shared verses that resonated personally, sparking deep reflections on the timeless wisdom it imparts. 

Fresh from a rejuvenating hike at the Battle of Antietam, I found meaning in chapter 2, verses 19-21, which remind us of our eternal nature beyond the transient boundaries of life and death. These verses read:

"One man believes he is the slayer, another believes he is the slain. Both are ignorant; there is neither slayer nor slain. You were never born; you will never die. You have never changed; you can never change. Unborn, eternal, immutable, immemorable, you do not die when the body dies. Realizing that which is indestructible, eternal, unborn, and unchanging, how can you slay or cause another to slay?"

During our session, my fellow students bravely revealed their choices, and for some, tears accompanied their disclosures. As we delve deeper into our practice, we're gradually unveiling aspects of ourselves that were once hidden. Bound by our shared journey, authenticity reigns supreme in our space—there's no place for pretenses or facades. This might be the most refreshing part of this experience.

If you need a refresher on why I embarked on this Yoga Teacher Training journey, you can find the details in my first blog post: https://www.journeytonamaste.com/post/embracing-tranquility-in-life-s-chaotic-dance

Namaste.

Caught hugging a tree in Lake Tahoe, 2022.