I’ve been thinking a lot about a question I am often asked – “what do you do for a living?”.
It’s a complex answer for me because telling people that I teach movement is sort of a vague answer, although really that’s what I consider my “work” to be – a movement teacher.
Saying I teach yoga often engenders this reply, “Oh I need to stretch more” or “You must be in such good shape”.
Telling people that I am an anatomy, body, and movement nerd seems like maybe I don’t actually work, but just read textbooks and dissect cadavers.
Likewise saying “I am a kinesiologist” is also a bit awkward because most people don’t really know what that is and ultimately all of the kinesiologists I know…… teach movement and are total anatomy nerds.
Basically I answer the question depending on who asks, what I think they may want to know, and how much I think they might want to actually hear about what I do.
Most of you know me as a yoga teacher. I’ve practiced and taught yoga for a long time, studied with some of the best teachers, and I rent space at two different yoga studios, so, yes, I am a yoga teacher.
Ultimately, though, my goal is not to teach people how to do triangle pose, especially in any “right” way, but to encourage folks to explore moving with more confidence, ease, and joy, whether it’s triangle pose or through life.
Really, that is my hope.
It’s literally what I work on in my own life everyday. It’s what I am impassioned to share.
Moving with more confidence, ease, and joy means challenging some of the norms we often find in yoga (insert any type of movement modality) teaching and looking at our own biases.
I am all about this.
Anyone who has taken my class over the past number of years understands that while I teach asana, breathing, and meditation, I also challenge norms about cuing and the way alignment is often presented in particular shapes/postures, what might be functional versus aesthetic, how to work with pain or fear, defining balance, or how mobility and stability are interdependent.
In my classes we might begin with breathing and centered sitting (quite like you would expect in a yoga class) and then move into myofascial foot release with a golf ball, foot mechanics, ankle and calf mobility, lateral hip stability, and eventually Ardha Chandrasana – linking the foot to the hip and the central nervous system to work with integrating stability, mobility, the conversation between the peripheral and central nervous system, and an investment in motor learning and skill.
And, yes, a shape that is officially noted as a yoga pose (A.Chand), but not as an investment in perfection or what it is “supposed” to be or feel like or look like or …. whatever label we want to put on a specific body shape/movement.
And, in addition to teaching you movement, you may have noticed that I’m quite authentic in the classroom.
I really am me in the most honest way.
You see me have hard days – it’s not always pretty. You’ve been with me when I’m on migraine meds and can’t form sentences very well. You’ve heard me cuss. I laugh loudly and often. I’m sometimes really impatient. I’ve burst into tears once and cried so hard that I had to stop teaching and leave. And you’ve seen me be extremely patient, kind, compassionate, and knowledgeable. You’ve seen me challenge something that I used to say or do. I question myself, my methods, and the status quo. I think it’s fair to say that my quest for lifelong education informs my teaching in the most profound way.
And there are lots of movements that I find challenging and lots of yoga poses that I am not interested in “perfecting”, although I am totally willing to play with these movements.
I’m just pretty human in the classroom.
In no way do I want to be anyone’s guru.
Period – end of story there.
Someone who doesn’t regularly take class from me shared this little tidbit with me recently, “You seem to be missing some of the qualities of a yoga teacher”.
Hmm, ok.
I was flummoxed and ultimately decided to perceive it as a BIG compliment.
Really.
OK, for a second or two (ok, maybe a day) I had to think about it and wonder whether my feelings were hurt. Or what the hell they really meant.
But ultimately this comment was about that person’s own biases regarding how a yoga teacher should present themselves, what they should teach, or whatever.
Fairly rapidly I got to the place where I decided that putting a lot of energy into figuring out what this statement even means was just not worth it.
That’s big time spiritual growth for me, folks!
“HEY I’M ADULTING!”
One of my best yoga chums, who is also a yoga teacher said, “like you are supposed to be some kind of Thomas Kincaid painting or something”. That made me laugh so hard I almost peed. (and now I may have offended anyone who likes Kincaid paintings or thinks real yoga teachers don’s sometimes wet their pants from laughing too hard – I apologize)
But if you know me, you know that I have no aspirations of being a Thomas Kincaid painting (or your guru).
So, here’s the deal… yes, I am a yoga teacher and yes, I am openly human about who I am and how I react to the world. And, yes, my field of practice and expertise is far greater than a singular label (whatever that label may be).
I think maybe I should answer the proverbial what do you do for a living question with , “I teach yoga and a whole lot more!”.
In fact, maybe that’s what I should call my classes:
Yoga and A Whole Lot More!
Listen, I still don’t know how to answer the question, “what do you do for a living?” except to say it’s yoga and a whole lot more. And I should always laugh loudly when I say it and include this, too, “I freaking love doing what I do and sharing the journey of living in a human body!”
I am a lucky gal.
