Several months ago, I embedded a few practices into my life to help me slow down. I am happy to report that I regularly unload the dishwasher with great calm … and dare I even say, leisure? Also, as part of my quest to slow down, I swapped out my usual form of exercise (running) for something new — a slower sort of physical and mental challenge — yoga in a room heated to 100 degrees (which was an absolute delight last week when the state of Michigan was frozen shut). Many yoga poses are quite difficult in a normal setting, but maintaining calm and balance with a steady stream of sweat dripping in one’s eyes is a most terrific challenge. Becoming a student of yoga in this extreme environment has been humbling and exhilarating. As I reflect on my growth and progress in “hot” yoga, I’ve a few points to share from the perspective of a student.
My fellow yogis range from advanced to developing. Those of us who are wobbly-at-best rely on the instructor’s patience, clear directions, and helpful guidance. Their words assure, challenge, and affirm us. When if feels like I might topple over, it is the guidance of the teacher that keeps me going. The students in our classrooms are quite similar. They come to us each day at different levels — some confident, some unsure. And, like me on the yoga mat, they are counting on their instructors to push them to do more than they knew they could.
I’ve also learned that each yogi makes progress at a different pace, there are folks who catch on within minutes and others who practice for years never to master certain poses. As a student of yoga, this was an important realization for me: not everything is a competition. No one “wins” at yoga. And the same is true for our own kiddos — no two students are the same (though it sometimes feels like the system wants them to be), and we must remember to cherish the progress each one makes at his or her own pace. Students often feel like they are competing in the classroom, but this a dangerous mindset in the long run. Personal excellence is what matters the most.
Finally, the practice of yoga has taught me mental freedom. It took a few weeks, but I now enter the practice ready to focus on the moment-at-hand and let go of the never-ending distractions, stream of information, abundant worries, and the multitude of tasks that so often fill my mind. I can be free to push myself to try a new pose, laugh when I crash into a sweaty pile on the floor, and feel exhilarated when I sense my progress. This mental freedom reminds me of one of my favorite teaching moments so far. I recall walking around my U.S. History classroom as students created reenactments of the westward move many Americans and immigrants embarked upon. Donned in cowboy hats and homemade aprons, they created plots, wrote skit lines, laughed heartily, and problem solved together. They felt as free as the pioneers they were pretending to be; as free as I am to lurch my way into a crooked back bend and know that I can always try again if I fail. I am reminded to cultivate a classroom where students feel free to take risks in order to grow, free to try again or try a different way if they fall short, and free to push themselves out of their comfort zone.
Taking on the perspective of a student has renewed many of the beliefs I hold dear: students are counting on my patience and instruction as their teacher, each individual’s progress matters much, much more than anything else, and there is great joy in the freedom to try — possibly fail — and then try, try again.