This may be old news for some of you (it's been posted and reposted by 28 of my Facebook friends today, and counting) but I just want to draw your attention to an article that appeared in the New York Times yesterday.
Bikram Yoga gets a lot of weird press - "bad boy of yoga," "teacher training sex cult," "Bikram vs. Charlie Sheen," etc etc. Some of it is entertaining, some of it is offensive, and some is just plain silly. It is rare to come across an article in the mainstream media that says something poignant and true about our yoga. Paige Williams' story in Oprah magazine last year was one exception.
Here is another one: Mirror
This article makes me want to punch the air and shout, Yes! This is what we do.
All my fellow teachers and yogis would agree with me, except that I think they're all too busy looking for the Kleenex box. Just a moment, I think I have something in my eye....
The video is worth watching, too....
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Forget about "Style"
"And it started to make sense... No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide." - Fight Club
This week, I've been reading a book called On Writing Well by William Zinsser. It's exactly what it says on the tin: a book about writing non-fiction. I found it on a bookshelf in my living room. One of my roommate must have bought it at some point, or maybe a past roommate left it behind. (My house is like that.) Yes, I was trying to read the yoga anatomy book (and I'm still working on it), but this other book pulled me in.
I particularly like the sections where Zinsser talks about "style." He says that most people who think they are writing with "style" are just doing messy writing, trying to dress up their sentences to make them sound good. "Trying to add style," he says, "is like adding a toupee. At first glance the formerly bald man looks young and even handsome. But at second glance - and with a toupee there's always a second glance - he doesn't look quite right... he doesn't look like himself." What's the alternative? Say something substantial! Instead of taking a tired old idea and trying to dress it up, say something unique. Your personality comes through in your ideas, not in your grammatical contortions.
Yoga teachers can tie themselves up into knots in similar ways. (Please excuse the pun, I inherited my sense of humor from my dad.) I've watched plenty of yoga teachers go through all kinds of verbal acrobatics in an effort to give instructions in a more personalized way. This comes from the same thought process - the thought that you need to "add style" in order to express your personality. Then you start to hear all sorts of crazy stuff that doesn't quite make sense, like "imagine you're painting a rainbow" or "motivate your core," along with filler phrases like "next we're gonna," "and then now," or one of my favorites: "you're gonna wanna try to." Hey, we've all been guilty of this at some time. But it doesn't improve the class. Just like in writing, you have to strip your class right down to the basics (*cough*dialogue*cough*) before you can build up again.
A couple weeks ago, one of the teachers at my studio asked me to give her feedback on her class. (It was the studio owner, actually - how cool is that? I have a great boss.) I practice in the back of the room and wrote down comments (all dialogue stuff) throughout the class. This turned out to be a great exercise in multitasking. I have a new appreciation for the teachers and studio owners who are responsible for giving feedback on a regular basis! Anyway, it was really fun to take notes and figure out which bits could be improved. It reminded me of proofreading a paper written by a friend. (I do love the art of proofreading.) Just like in editing, my task was to go through the words and identify which ones were necessary, which ones were doing their job, and which ones were having their meaning twisted around. Of course, doing it in real-time is a bit trickier, but that just added to the fun!
When I'm teaching the class, I have to edit myself for clarity as I go. I usually have the words right, and if I speak quickly I can get out nearly the entire dialogue, but then the words can get lost. That is not the goal! (I once read a Yelp review about Bikram yoga that said "The instructor leads by dialogue, which means that they talk very fast like an auctioneer throughout the class," and I wanted to bang my head against the wall.) In my best classes, I am absolutely deliberate - I control the tempo, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, and I hear every word as it comes out of my lips. Oh yeah, and I make it sound totally natural. Or so I'm told. I try.
Another Bikram teacher once described my class as "really personalized." She meant it as a compliment, but it struck a little bit of horror into my heart. Does that mean I'm off the dialogue?! But here's the thing: I'm not off the dialogue. I've checked. So that means that, without embellishing the language, my personality is still coming through. I can only guess that it's because I have something to say. Substance wins over style. For once, I have to flip a Bikramism upside-down: "It's not how you say it, it's what you say!"
Style is useless on the yoga mat, too. Everyone has a style in the yoga room, some more than others. Some people fix their clothing or their hair, some people look around curiously, some people more ahead or lag behind, some people are being dramatic. But the only "style" that really helps is simplicity. Stillness. The total absence of stylization. My best, most transcendent classes have been the ones where all the distractions disappeared, where I didn't even twitch a finger if it wasn't in the instructions.
The goal in all of these pursuits - in writing, in teaching, in practicing - is to strip away everything that does not matter. All that murkiness just cover up what's real, like dirt on a mirror. Like ripples in a pond. The first yoga sutra roughly translates as "Cease the fluctuations of the mind-stuff." Let everything which does not matter truly slide. Forget about being a certain way, and just be.
That's yoga.
This week, I've been reading a book called On Writing Well by William Zinsser. It's exactly what it says on the tin: a book about writing non-fiction. I found it on a bookshelf in my living room. One of my roommate must have bought it at some point, or maybe a past roommate left it behind. (My house is like that.) Yes, I was trying to read the yoga anatomy book (and I'm still working on it), but this other book pulled me in.
I particularly like the sections where Zinsser talks about "style." He says that most people who think they are writing with "style" are just doing messy writing, trying to dress up their sentences to make them sound good. "Trying to add style," he says, "is like adding a toupee. At first glance the formerly bald man looks young and even handsome. But at second glance - and with a toupee there's always a second glance - he doesn't look quite right... he doesn't look like himself." What's the alternative? Say something substantial! Instead of taking a tired old idea and trying to dress it up, say something unique. Your personality comes through in your ideas, not in your grammatical contortions.
Yoga teachers can tie themselves up into knots in similar ways. (Please excuse the pun, I inherited my sense of humor from my dad.) I've watched plenty of yoga teachers go through all kinds of verbal acrobatics in an effort to give instructions in a more personalized way. This comes from the same thought process - the thought that you need to "add style" in order to express your personality. Then you start to hear all sorts of crazy stuff that doesn't quite make sense, like "imagine you're painting a rainbow" or "motivate your core," along with filler phrases like "next we're gonna," "and then now," or one of my favorites: "you're gonna wanna try to." Hey, we've all been guilty of this at some time. But it doesn't improve the class. Just like in writing, you have to strip your class right down to the basics (*cough*dialogue*cough*) before you can build up again.
A couple weeks ago, one of the teachers at my studio asked me to give her feedback on her class. (It was the studio owner, actually - how cool is that? I have a great boss.) I practice in the back of the room and wrote down comments (all dialogue stuff) throughout the class. This turned out to be a great exercise in multitasking. I have a new appreciation for the teachers and studio owners who are responsible for giving feedback on a regular basis! Anyway, it was really fun to take notes and figure out which bits could be improved. It reminded me of proofreading a paper written by a friend. (I do love the art of proofreading.) Just like in editing, my task was to go through the words and identify which ones were necessary, which ones were doing their job, and which ones were having their meaning twisted around. Of course, doing it in real-time is a bit trickier, but that just added to the fun!
When I'm teaching the class, I have to edit myself for clarity as I go. I usually have the words right, and if I speak quickly I can get out nearly the entire dialogue, but then the words can get lost. That is not the goal! (I once read a Yelp review about Bikram yoga that said "The instructor leads by dialogue, which means that they talk very fast like an auctioneer throughout the class," and I wanted to bang my head against the wall.) In my best classes, I am absolutely deliberate - I control the tempo, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, and I hear every word as it comes out of my lips. Oh yeah, and I make it sound totally natural. Or so I'm told. I try.
Another Bikram teacher once described my class as "really personalized." She meant it as a compliment, but it struck a little bit of horror into my heart. Does that mean I'm off the dialogue?! But here's the thing: I'm not off the dialogue. I've checked. So that means that, without embellishing the language, my personality is still coming through. I can only guess that it's because I have something to say. Substance wins over style. For once, I have to flip a Bikramism upside-down: "It's not how you say it, it's what you say!"
Style is useless on the yoga mat, too. Everyone has a style in the yoga room, some more than others. Some people fix their clothing or their hair, some people look around curiously, some people more ahead or lag behind, some people are being dramatic. But the only "style" that really helps is simplicity. Stillness. The total absence of stylization. My best, most transcendent classes have been the ones where all the distractions disappeared, where I didn't even twitch a finger if it wasn't in the instructions.
The goal in all of these pursuits - in writing, in teaching, in practicing - is to strip away everything that does not matter. All that murkiness just cover up what's real, like dirt on a mirror. Like ripples in a pond. The first yoga sutra roughly translates as "Cease the fluctuations of the mind-stuff." Let everything which does not matter truly slide. Forget about being a certain way, and just be.
That's yoga.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Catching Up...
Whoops... I had all these great blogging plans, and then this week seriously got away from me. Had some rather urgent family business come up, the kind that involves long drives across state lines in the middle of the night. To make a long story short, my 92-year-old grandfather is now recovering after a successful surgery, so everything seems to have turned out okay. (Knock on wood.)
But back to this little blog - I'm finally caught up on everything (rent is paid, schedule is back to normal, washing machine is running, house is clean, chili is cooking in the crock pot) and I have been itching to write for days now.
First order of business: Chicago! Assuming that no more emergencies arise in the next few weeks, I am going to Chicago for the weekend of March 19th. I'm not mentioning this because I think you ought to stalk me. (Don't be silly.) I mention this because I am going to a yoga seminar with the one-and-only Diane Ducharme, and if you're in the neighborhood, you really should show up. Her seminars are awesome, trust me. More info is online at Bikram Yoga in the City. (And no, I'm not likely to be teaching while I'm there - this is just a quick trip and I am going purely as a student. Exciting for me!!)
Second order of business: Blog comments! I received some really insightful comments on my last blog post, the one about requiring "proof" for the benefits of a yoga practice. Basically, my readers have been keeping things interesting even in my absence. So if you haven't been reading comments, go and check them out! It's never too late to join in the conversation. It's been giving me a lot of ideas, including a gem of an idea for a new kind of Bikram yoga website. After an initial spurt of manic excitement, I am thinking carefully about a couple of different projects, and I may bounce some ideas off all of you later....
And finally, my personal 30 day reading challenge is looking more like a ?? day challenge, but it is still on! Yesterday I finished chapter 2, and now I am on page 139 (out of 594)! Progress! I am still shooting for 20 pages a day from here on, but not every single day. (For example, when I take my trip to Chicago later this month, I'm not going to sacrifice time from my yoga weekend extravaganza to plow through a big heavy book!) So now I give you:
?? Day Reading Challenge: Day 10
I've finished the first two chapters! Hurrah for me!
The first chapter is about "Movement and Posture." It goes through a lot of technical anatomy terms, which would have been tedious reading if I didn't already have a solid foundation from the anatomy course at teacher training. That was a seriously good course; Dr. Preddy knows his stuff! There was some new-for-me material, though. I finally understand the difference between concentric shortening and eccentric lengthening, though I'm not sure whether this will help me much in my day-to-day life. It helps me understand anatomy textbooks, though. (CliffNotes summary: Concentric = going UP the stairs. Eccentric = going DOWN the stairs.) The most interesting bit for me was probably the section on reflexes. If you want to understand why you can stretch your muscles with a slow, steady pull, but NOT with bouncing and jerking, this is the section for you.
As far as the concepts about stretching, posture, and gravity are concerned, I found all of the conclusions pretty familiar and intuitive. That's because I've read this kind of thing before and I have a lot of experience working with my body. But the text gives enough detailed and rigorous information to satisfy the most curious questioner, and it's cool to understand the hidden mechanics behind familiar processes.
The author also has a tendency to editorialize, which is one of my favorite parts. I feel like I'm reading Nabokov sometimes. (Pale Fire, anyone?) I really liked a section on page 29-30, where the author's [technical notes] go on for a full page and get gradually more and more tangential. His last note is pretty far from the main point of the passage, but it's a really great point:
"If your complaint is that you can't understand a particular concept and do not feel competent to criticize it, don't assume that the problem is your own lack of intelligence or scientific background. More than likely, the idea wasn't presented in a straightforward manner, and it usually happens that this masks one or more fatals flaws in the putative reasoning. One dependable test of a concept is whether you can convincingly explain it, along with the mechanics of how it operates, to a third party. If you find yourself getting your explanation garbled, or if your listener does not comprehend your argument or is unpersuaded, please examine and research the idea more critically."
Okay, so he did use the word "putative," which I had to look up (putative, adj, commonly accepted or supposed), but overall this is a fantastically clear point which I support 100%. The "third party test" is a great test for any idea, whether it's a scientific point or a business plan. (The business plan test says that that if you can't explain the purpose of your business to a third party in one sentence, you don't really have a plan.)
Returning to our immediate concerns: like in any good yoga anatomy book, chapter one is about posture and chapter two is about "Breathing." This was a pretty cool chapter. It includes a lot of suggestions for self-experimentation, and I was too lazy to get up and do any of the experiments because I was too busy lounging. If I every get motivated, I will probably go back through this chapter and try some of these breathing experiments, instead of just conceptualizing and looking at the pictures.
The chapter does a good job explaining about the different lung volumes and capacities. I still have to double-check the terminology as I read, but the main take-away point is that you never breathe your total lung capacity in and out (some air stays in your lungs so they don't collapse), and you rarely breathe your full vital capacity. In normal breathing, your lungs are never completely full or completely empty, which is totally normal and fine, but it means that there is a lot of room for manipulation when you start doing yogic breathing exercises.
There's also a ton of stuff about the different anatomical ways of breathing: chest breathing, belly breathing and everything in between. (There is a whole lot of middle ground.) That's putting it very loosely. I could relate a lot of it to my understanding of pranayama breathing, and kapalabhati is discussed specifically.
My favorite "practical" advice is nestled in between various technical discussions: "Rushing yourself or someone else into developing new breathing habits will only create anxiety and disrupt rather than benefit the nervous system (pg 120)" and "the poses themselves correct bad habits (pg 113)."
Now I think I have just enough time to read another 20 pages before going to take class at 7pm. More later!
But back to this little blog - I'm finally caught up on everything (rent is paid, schedule is back to normal, washing machine is running, house is clean, chili is cooking in the crock pot) and I have been itching to write for days now.
First order of business: Chicago! Assuming that no more emergencies arise in the next few weeks, I am going to Chicago for the weekend of March 19th. I'm not mentioning this because I think you ought to stalk me. (Don't be silly.) I mention this because I am going to a yoga seminar with the one-and-only Diane Ducharme, and if you're in the neighborhood, you really should show up. Her seminars are awesome, trust me. More info is online at Bikram Yoga in the City. (And no, I'm not likely to be teaching while I'm there - this is just a quick trip and I am going purely as a student. Exciting for me!!)
Second order of business: Blog comments! I received some really insightful comments on my last blog post, the one about requiring "proof" for the benefits of a yoga practice. Basically, my readers have been keeping things interesting even in my absence. So if you haven't been reading comments, go and check them out! It's never too late to join in the conversation. It's been giving me a lot of ideas, including a gem of an idea for a new kind of Bikram yoga website. After an initial spurt of manic excitement, I am thinking carefully about a couple of different projects, and I may bounce some ideas off all of you later....
And finally, my personal 30 day reading challenge is looking more like a ?? day challenge, but it is still on! Yesterday I finished chapter 2, and now I am on page 139 (out of 594)! Progress! I am still shooting for 20 pages a day from here on, but not every single day. (For example, when I take my trip to Chicago later this month, I'm not going to sacrifice time from my yoga weekend extravaganza to plow through a big heavy book!) So now I give you:
?? Day Reading Challenge: Day 10
I've finished the first two chapters! Hurrah for me!
The first chapter is about "Movement and Posture." It goes through a lot of technical anatomy terms, which would have been tedious reading if I didn't already have a solid foundation from the anatomy course at teacher training. That was a seriously good course; Dr. Preddy knows his stuff! There was some new-for-me material, though. I finally understand the difference between concentric shortening and eccentric lengthening, though I'm not sure whether this will help me much in my day-to-day life. It helps me understand anatomy textbooks, though. (CliffNotes summary: Concentric = going UP the stairs. Eccentric = going DOWN the stairs.) The most interesting bit for me was probably the section on reflexes. If you want to understand why you can stretch your muscles with a slow, steady pull, but NOT with bouncing and jerking, this is the section for you.
As far as the concepts about stretching, posture, and gravity are concerned, I found all of the conclusions pretty familiar and intuitive. That's because I've read this kind of thing before and I have a lot of experience working with my body. But the text gives enough detailed and rigorous information to satisfy the most curious questioner, and it's cool to understand the hidden mechanics behind familiar processes.
The author also has a tendency to editorialize, which is one of my favorite parts. I feel like I'm reading Nabokov sometimes. (Pale Fire, anyone?) I really liked a section on page 29-30, where the author's [technical notes] go on for a full page and get gradually more and more tangential. His last note is pretty far from the main point of the passage, but it's a really great point:
"If your complaint is that you can't understand a particular concept and do not feel competent to criticize it, don't assume that the problem is your own lack of intelligence or scientific background. More than likely, the idea wasn't presented in a straightforward manner, and it usually happens that this masks one or more fatals flaws in the putative reasoning. One dependable test of a concept is whether you can convincingly explain it, along with the mechanics of how it operates, to a third party. If you find yourself getting your explanation garbled, or if your listener does not comprehend your argument or is unpersuaded, please examine and research the idea more critically."
Okay, so he did use the word "putative," which I had to look up (putative, adj, commonly accepted or supposed), but overall this is a fantastically clear point which I support 100%. The "third party test" is a great test for any idea, whether it's a scientific point or a business plan. (The business plan test says that that if you can't explain the purpose of your business to a third party in one sentence, you don't really have a plan.)
Returning to our immediate concerns: like in any good yoga anatomy book, chapter one is about posture and chapter two is about "Breathing." This was a pretty cool chapter. It includes a lot of suggestions for self-experimentation, and I was too lazy to get up and do any of the experiments because I was too busy lounging. If I every get motivated, I will probably go back through this chapter and try some of these breathing experiments, instead of just conceptualizing and looking at the pictures.
The chapter does a good job explaining about the different lung volumes and capacities. I still have to double-check the terminology as I read, but the main take-away point is that you never breathe your total lung capacity in and out (some air stays in your lungs so they don't collapse), and you rarely breathe your full vital capacity. In normal breathing, your lungs are never completely full or completely empty, which is totally normal and fine, but it means that there is a lot of room for manipulation when you start doing yogic breathing exercises.
There's also a ton of stuff about the different anatomical ways of breathing: chest breathing, belly breathing and everything in between. (There is a whole lot of middle ground.) That's putting it very loosely. I could relate a lot of it to my understanding of pranayama breathing, and kapalabhati is discussed specifically.
My favorite "practical" advice is nestled in between various technical discussions: "Rushing yourself or someone else into developing new breathing habits will only create anxiety and disrupt rather than benefit the nervous system (pg 120)" and "the poses themselves correct bad habits (pg 113)."
Now I think I have just enough time to read another 20 pages before going to take class at 7pm. More later!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Proof is in the Pudding
30 Day Reading Challenge... DAY TWO!
Well, I haven't read any of my anatomy book yet today, but I am planning on doing so before bed. Since it's past 10:30 and I am teaching at 6am tomorrow, this puts me a little bit behind schedule... but I will persevere!
Here's an interesting question that was brought up in the foreword to my anatomy book: will modern science ever accept the "proof" that yoga is an effective form of medicine?
This passage is written by Dr. Timothy McCall from Boston, and I think he sums up the situation especially well. He writes: "In a medical profession now itself dominated by a near religious reverence for the randomized, controlled study, knowledge acquired through thousands of years of direct observation, introspection, and trial and error may seem quaint."
He's got a point. How are we ever going to get a randomized, controlled study of yoga? Where would the money come from for a true, long-range study? Who would be the control group? And how would you manage to "hold everything else constant," in the case of a holistic therapy that treats all the systems at once?
Very simple example: Say that someone starts practicing yoga, then changes their diet, then loses weight. How can you ever, in an objective and scientific fashion, determine the true thread of cause and effect? Maybe it's true that the weight loss came from the diet change (although in the case of Bikram yoga, the crazy calorie burning effects will also help). But where did the diet change come from? Did it come along with the yoga, or was it a coincidence? Can you prove it? Oh, and where does the thyroid gland come into this equation?
When people ask us for proof, we point to anecdotal evidence. Now, in the world of the "randomized, controlled study," this is not considered hard, solid proof. But my god, we have some great anecdotal evidence! Each Bikram yoga studio - and there are hundreds of Bikram yoga studios - has dozens of students who will testify to the changes that they've seen. And teacher training attracts the ones who have really experienced miracles - the ones who were virtually crippled and now can walk, the ones who have stopped taking dozens of pills, the ones whose whole lives have changed.
One girl from my teacher training, a good friend of mine who was in my group, had been crippled by rheumatoid arthritis when she was in her early 20's. She walked with a cane. Her family had to help her use the bathroom. She couldn't grasp a doorknob to open a door on her own. I would never have suspected any of these things about her - I had no idea, until I read her testimony in our yearbook after graduation - because now she is completely fine.
Yoga did that.
Dr. McCall says that it is a philosophical question: "When you have an intervention which appears safe and effective - and when its side effects are almost entirely positive - should one wait for proof before trying it?"
I say, hell, just try it.
As we say in Bikram yoga circles - and I really want to get this on a t-shirt one day - "This shit WORKS!"
Well, I haven't read any of my anatomy book yet today, but I am planning on doing so before bed. Since it's past 10:30 and I am teaching at 6am tomorrow, this puts me a little bit behind schedule... but I will persevere!
Here's an interesting question that was brought up in the foreword to my anatomy book: will modern science ever accept the "proof" that yoga is an effective form of medicine?
This passage is written by Dr. Timothy McCall from Boston, and I think he sums up the situation especially well. He writes: "In a medical profession now itself dominated by a near religious reverence for the randomized, controlled study, knowledge acquired through thousands of years of direct observation, introspection, and trial and error may seem quaint."
He's got a point. How are we ever going to get a randomized, controlled study of yoga? Where would the money come from for a true, long-range study? Who would be the control group? And how would you manage to "hold everything else constant," in the case of a holistic therapy that treats all the systems at once?
Very simple example: Say that someone starts practicing yoga, then changes their diet, then loses weight. How can you ever, in an objective and scientific fashion, determine the true thread of cause and effect? Maybe it's true that the weight loss came from the diet change (although in the case of Bikram yoga, the crazy calorie burning effects will also help). But where did the diet change come from? Did it come along with the yoga, or was it a coincidence? Can you prove it? Oh, and where does the thyroid gland come into this equation?
When people ask us for proof, we point to anecdotal evidence. Now, in the world of the "randomized, controlled study," this is not considered hard, solid proof. But my god, we have some great anecdotal evidence! Each Bikram yoga studio - and there are hundreds of Bikram yoga studios - has dozens of students who will testify to the changes that they've seen. And teacher training attracts the ones who have really experienced miracles - the ones who were virtually crippled and now can walk, the ones who have stopped taking dozens of pills, the ones whose whole lives have changed.
One girl from my teacher training, a good friend of mine who was in my group, had been crippled by rheumatoid arthritis when she was in her early 20's. She walked with a cane. Her family had to help her use the bathroom. She couldn't grasp a doorknob to open a door on her own. I would never have suspected any of these things about her - I had no idea, until I read her testimony in our yearbook after graduation - because now she is completely fine.
Yoga did that.
Dr. McCall says that it is a philosophical question: "When you have an intervention which appears safe and effective - and when its side effects are almost entirely positive - should one wait for proof before trying it?"
I say, hell, just try it.
As we say in Bikram yoga circles - and I really want to get this on a t-shirt one day - "This shit WORKS!"
Monday, February 21, 2011
Breaking out the Books!
Last week, in a burst of impulse shopping inspired by some yoga teacher message boards, I ordered TWO shiny new yoga anatomy books from Amazon. They arrived in the mail a couple days ago, and I felt like it was Christmas morning! The first book, Yoga Anatomy by Leslie Kaminoff, is a heavily illustrated book that I've looked through several times before. The first two chapters are the best bits of this book. Chapter one is about breathing and chapter two is about the spine. There are so many good tidbits in there, and I found this book really illuminating the first time I read it; I clearly never understood the mechanics of pranayama breathing until I saw the pictures in the first chapter. It's a fun read, and pretty easy to get through.
The second book, Anatomy of Hatha Yoga by H. David Coulter, is more intimidating. It's a manual for yoga students and teachers, fairly dense, and heavy enough to make a good doorstop. I've consistently heard two things about this book: it has excellent information and it's very hard to get through. Most people tell me that it's a really good reference book to have on hand, but I'm not sure if any of my friends have read it cover to cover.
Well, you might be able to guess where this is going. I wasn't planning on setting any challenges for myself, but I started reading the second book today and I loved it. So now...
30 Day Reading Challenge - DAY ONE!
Over the next 30 days, I am going to read this book from cover to cover. I could use a good fun challenge. And this Coulter book is about 600 pages long, which means I only need to read 20 pages a day, which seems manageable. I got through 20 pages today and it wasn't too hard at all. Once I got out my pen and started "interacting" with the text (i.e. scribbling marginalia all over the place), I had a grand old time. I felt like I was enjoying coffee with a friend named David, a friend who just happened to be an anatomy professor with extensive interest in yoga.
I think this will be good for me. I like having goals and intellectual stimulation. Gotta keep myself on top of my game.
Also, this might give me something to blog about, since I've totally been neglecting my blogging lately...
The second book, Anatomy of Hatha Yoga by H. David Coulter, is more intimidating. It's a manual for yoga students and teachers, fairly dense, and heavy enough to make a good doorstop. I've consistently heard two things about this book: it has excellent information and it's very hard to get through. Most people tell me that it's a really good reference book to have on hand, but I'm not sure if any of my friends have read it cover to cover.
Well, you might be able to guess where this is going. I wasn't planning on setting any challenges for myself, but I started reading the second book today and I loved it. So now...
30 Day Reading Challenge - DAY ONE!
Over the next 30 days, I am going to read this book from cover to cover. I could use a good fun challenge. And this Coulter book is about 600 pages long, which means I only need to read 20 pages a day, which seems manageable. I got through 20 pages today and it wasn't too hard at all. Once I got out my pen and started "interacting" with the text (i.e. scribbling marginalia all over the place), I had a grand old time. I felt like I was enjoying coffee with a friend named David, a friend who just happened to be an anatomy professor with extensive interest in yoga.
I think this will be good for me. I like having goals and intellectual stimulation. Gotta keep myself on top of my game.
Also, this might give me something to blog about, since I've totally been neglecting my blogging lately...
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Reasons to Live! (Yoga Teacher Edition)
My Bikram yoga blogging buddy The Missus used to write a weekly post called "Short List of Reasons to Live," which was exactly that: a round-up of all the good things that had happened recently that made life worth living. I am stealing this idea from her for my title, although I left off the "short" part.
In response to my last post, MLJosey wrote a comment asking "What kinds of student feedback make you feel especially valued?" I thought that was a great question, but I didn't have a short answer to it. It sounded to me like a good idea for a whole post!
So. As a teacher, what kind of feedback makes me feel valued?
First of all, I will say that as a teacher you have to be prepared to get all sorts of feedback. This was something that they tried to impress on us at teacher training, and the idea really stuck with me. As teachers, we don't have complete control over the experiences that our students have in the hot room, because every person is going through a unique, individual experience. We know this from our own practice. Think of a time when your favorite teacher was teaching, but you just weren't at your best and had a crummy sort of class. Now think of a time when you had a teacher who wasn't doing anything special, but maybe something just clicked in your body and you had a really terrific class. See? The kind of class that you have doesn't always depend on the teacher.
This means that, as a teacher, you might see some people coming out of class elated and some people coming out looking kinda defeated, and you have to remember that it's not about you. Not always. You never quite know what's been going on in someone else's body, or in someone else's life.
Oh yeah, and anytime there is a significant heat issue going on in the room, most of the students will ignore your contribution completely. This appears to be a universal fact. During my first month as a teacher, I taught a handful of classes at the LA headquarters while they were having issues with their heater. I would come out from teaching feeling pretty good about myself. ("Hey, lookit this, I'm actually teaching yoga at headquarters and I didn't forget the dialogue!") Then all the students would come out and say to me, "Augh, the heat, the heat, the heat, it isn't hot enough, this is terrible, not hot enough, absolutely terrible!! When is the heater going to be fixed, when is it going to be hot again?! Oh, but thanks anyway for class, you were good." HAH! I was so irrelevant. It was a good lesson for me: I cannot control all the variables that go into the class.
With all of that said, the teacher still does have a huge influence over the class. A good teacher might pull you out of a funk, show you something new, say something in a way that you've never heard it before, and turn your day around. (A bad teacher might do the opposite.) Teaching matters!
Here are some of the things that make me feel good:
- You want to take my class! It's always nice when students are happy to see me (instead of being like, "Oh shit, it's you again!") Of course, sometimes students end up liking me just because I was their first teacher. Don't you remember imprinting on your first teacher, just like a baby duck? We all have our pets, our babies. That almost doesn't count; if I'm your first teacher, then the deck is stacked in my favor. But every now and then I'll get more experienced students telling me that they came because I was teaching, and that's a great compliment. Earlier this week, some girls from a college field hockey team came and told me that their team is going to start coming for yoga on the weekends, and they wanted to know, "Can you teach the class? We want you!" Well, shucks. I am terribly flattered. Better not let it go to my head.
- You laughed at my joke. Hooray!
- You learned something! This is great. I love it when students tell me about their new discoveries. If you hear something new in class that really helps you out - whether it's something about the posture, yoga, or life in general - let you teacher know! Like I talked about once before, I'm always doing my best to say things that will be helpful, informational, motivating, and maybe even inspiring, but I have no way of knowing whether I'm getting it "right"... unless you tell me!
- "Your smile was the only thing that got me through that class." Enough said.
- My correction helped you! This makes me so proud. I gave a long-time student a little correction in class this morning and suddenly she was able to lift her hands off the floor in toe stand for the first time. It was so exciting! That moment alone would kind of make my morning, without anything else said. But then after class, we were talking again about her big moment. She was amazed at what a big difference the little details make. She told me that was still thinking about a correction that I gave her ages ago in triangle ages ago and it was making a huge difference. Then another student wandered out of the yoga room into the middle of our conversation and said, "Oh, yeah, your little corrections have made a huge difference for me, too!" Oh man. I am gonna sleep sooo well tonight.
- You like my energy. Thank you. I am basically a professional Energizer Bunny. I consider it my job to have the most energy in the room, because I'm the one who keeps everyone going. Sometimes this means I have to sacrifice other things, like going to bed early instead of going out swing dancing (sniff sniff). It is a full-time job, making sure that I save up enough energy for the times when I need it, and it is nice to be appreciated!
- You are listening. You don't have to tell me that you're listening. I'm watching you. I can tell.
- You are improving. You don't have to tell me about this one, either. I can see it. Sometimes, I can see it before you can. I love to watch people transform from ordinary newbies into real yogis.
- You feel better! This is one that I can't take credit for, because the yoga series is doing most of the work. But it's so great to hear about good results. "I felt more relaxed after class." "I had so much energy!" "My arthritis pain started to go away by the end of half moon." "I slept really well - lots of dreams." That stuff is so cool.
See, I told you this was not going to be a "short" list. I could go on and on. But I'll end with one more story, a simple one and a good one.
I was at the desk one morning a few months ago, waiting for the students to come in. The first to arrive was a woman who had just finished her first month of Bikram yoga. She had taken almost 20 classes in her first month and had decided to sign up for the annual membership. I was the one to set up her account for the next year. As she handed me her credit card, she gave me a huge smile, eyes tearing up just a little bit, and said, "I know you probably hear this all the time, but I just wanted you to know, you guys are changing my life."
Oh.
No, it's not something that I hear every day. I can still picture the way her eyes looked when she said those words.
That's a good reason for me to be alive.
In response to my last post, MLJosey wrote a comment asking "What kinds of student feedback make you feel especially valued?" I thought that was a great question, but I didn't have a short answer to it. It sounded to me like a good idea for a whole post!
So. As a teacher, what kind of feedback makes me feel valued?
First of all, I will say that as a teacher you have to be prepared to get all sorts of feedback. This was something that they tried to impress on us at teacher training, and the idea really stuck with me. As teachers, we don't have complete control over the experiences that our students have in the hot room, because every person is going through a unique, individual experience. We know this from our own practice. Think of a time when your favorite teacher was teaching, but you just weren't at your best and had a crummy sort of class. Now think of a time when you had a teacher who wasn't doing anything special, but maybe something just clicked in your body and you had a really terrific class. See? The kind of class that you have doesn't always depend on the teacher.
This means that, as a teacher, you might see some people coming out of class elated and some people coming out looking kinda defeated, and you have to remember that it's not about you. Not always. You never quite know what's been going on in someone else's body, or in someone else's life.
Oh yeah, and anytime there is a significant heat issue going on in the room, most of the students will ignore your contribution completely. This appears to be a universal fact. During my first month as a teacher, I taught a handful of classes at the LA headquarters while they were having issues with their heater. I would come out from teaching feeling pretty good about myself. ("Hey, lookit this, I'm actually teaching yoga at headquarters and I didn't forget the dialogue!") Then all the students would come out and say to me, "Augh, the heat, the heat, the heat, it isn't hot enough, this is terrible, not hot enough, absolutely terrible!! When is the heater going to be fixed, when is it going to be hot again?! Oh, but thanks anyway for class, you were good." HAH! I was so irrelevant. It was a good lesson for me: I cannot control all the variables that go into the class.
With all of that said, the teacher still does have a huge influence over the class. A good teacher might pull you out of a funk, show you something new, say something in a way that you've never heard it before, and turn your day around. (A bad teacher might do the opposite.) Teaching matters!
Here are some of the things that make me feel good:
- You want to take my class! It's always nice when students are happy to see me (instead of being like, "Oh shit, it's you again!") Of course, sometimes students end up liking me just because I was their first teacher. Don't you remember imprinting on your first teacher, just like a baby duck? We all have our pets, our babies. That almost doesn't count; if I'm your first teacher, then the deck is stacked in my favor. But every now and then I'll get more experienced students telling me that they came because I was teaching, and that's a great compliment. Earlier this week, some girls from a college field hockey team came and told me that their team is going to start coming for yoga on the weekends, and they wanted to know, "Can you teach the class? We want you!" Well, shucks. I am terribly flattered. Better not let it go to my head.
- You laughed at my joke. Hooray!
- You learned something! This is great. I love it when students tell me about their new discoveries. If you hear something new in class that really helps you out - whether it's something about the posture, yoga, or life in general - let you teacher know! Like I talked about once before, I'm always doing my best to say things that will be helpful, informational, motivating, and maybe even inspiring, but I have no way of knowing whether I'm getting it "right"... unless you tell me!
- "Your smile was the only thing that got me through that class." Enough said.
- My correction helped you! This makes me so proud. I gave a long-time student a little correction in class this morning and suddenly she was able to lift her hands off the floor in toe stand for the first time. It was so exciting! That moment alone would kind of make my morning, without anything else said. But then after class, we were talking again about her big moment. She was amazed at what a big difference the little details make. She told me that was still thinking about a correction that I gave her ages ago in triangle ages ago and it was making a huge difference. Then another student wandered out of the yoga room into the middle of our conversation and said, "Oh, yeah, your little corrections have made a huge difference for me, too!" Oh man. I am gonna sleep sooo well tonight.
- You like my energy. Thank you. I am basically a professional Energizer Bunny. I consider it my job to have the most energy in the room, because I'm the one who keeps everyone going. Sometimes this means I have to sacrifice other things, like going to bed early instead of going out swing dancing (sniff sniff). It is a full-time job, making sure that I save up enough energy for the times when I need it, and it is nice to be appreciated!
- You are listening. You don't have to tell me that you're listening. I'm watching you. I can tell.
- You are improving. You don't have to tell me about this one, either. I can see it. Sometimes, I can see it before you can. I love to watch people transform from ordinary newbies into real yogis.
- You feel better! This is one that I can't take credit for, because the yoga series is doing most of the work. But it's so great to hear about good results. "I felt more relaxed after class." "I had so much energy!" "My arthritis pain started to go away by the end of half moon." "I slept really well - lots of dreams." That stuff is so cool.
See, I told you this was not going to be a "short" list. I could go on and on. But I'll end with one more story, a simple one and a good one.
I was at the desk one morning a few months ago, waiting for the students to come in. The first to arrive was a woman who had just finished her first month of Bikram yoga. She had taken almost 20 classes in her first month and had decided to sign up for the annual membership. I was the one to set up her account for the next year. As she handed me her credit card, she gave me a huge smile, eyes tearing up just a little bit, and said, "I know you probably hear this all the time, but I just wanted you to know, you guys are changing my life."
Oh.
No, it's not something that I hear every day. I can still picture the way her eyes looked when she said those words.
That's a good reason for me to be alive.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Teacher Training vs. Teaching
It feels like it's been a while since I said anything about teacher training. But I have had lots of thoughts about it recently. It's been almost 8 months now (what?!?) since I graduated, and here are some of my recent observations.
Similar: As a trainee and as a teacher, you typically spend a minimum of 3 hours a day sweating in a hot room, with a day-and-a-half off per week.
Different: As a trainee, you never really have to do more than 11 classes in a week (unless you have a make-up class or you on demo team in week 9.) As a teacher, I am sometimes in the hot room (counting both teaching or taking) for 11 classes in one weekend. "Weekend" as in "three day." This is one of those weekends. Basically, the amount that you sweat at TT is nothing compared to how much you might end up sweating as a teacher.
Similar: Hydration and sleep are top priorities at all times!
Different: As a teacher, nobody makes you stay up late watching strange Hindi movies. Now I only stay up moderately late, and I'm watching episodes Doctor Who instead of Mahabharat. (And by the way, David Tennant, how sexy is his hair?!)
Similar: Dialogue, dialogue, and more dialogue. Talk, sleep, and breathe dialogue.
Different: When you are a trainee, everyone around you is dialogue-obsessed. You hear it in the stairwells. People are practicing wind-removing pose in the parking lot. (I have pictures of this.) When you say the dialogue, you have a whole room of people checking to see if you're doing it right. When you're a teacher, no one is checking (for the most part). There are plenty of times when no one in the room knows if you're saying it "right" (nor do they care). This means that it is up to you to keep yourself honest and stay on track. (And if you happen to have a dialogue trophy sitting on your desk, it is up to you to uphold the high standard for the whole studio, so don't slack!)
And then here are some more differences:
Opposite: At training, you are always saying your dialogue for a bunch of people who already know it. You basically just recite the dialogue. At best, it's role-playing. As a teacher, you are giving instruction to a bunch of people who sometimes have no clue what they are supposed to be doing. You have to actually teach using the dialogue. This is a whole different ballgame.
Similar: As a trainee and as a teacher, you typically spend a minimum of 3 hours a day sweating in a hot room, with a day-and-a-half off per week.
Different: As a trainee, you never really have to do more than 11 classes in a week (unless you have a make-up class or you on demo team in week 9.) As a teacher, I am sometimes in the hot room (counting both teaching or taking) for 11 classes in one weekend. "Weekend" as in "three day." This is one of those weekends. Basically, the amount that you sweat at TT is nothing compared to how much you might end up sweating as a teacher.
Similar: Hydration and sleep are top priorities at all times!
Different: As a teacher, nobody makes you stay up late watching strange Hindi movies. Now I only stay up moderately late, and I'm watching episodes Doctor Who instead of Mahabharat. (And by the way, David Tennant, how sexy is his hair?!)
Similar: Dialogue, dialogue, and more dialogue. Talk, sleep, and breathe dialogue.
Different: When you are a trainee, everyone around you is dialogue-obsessed. You hear it in the stairwells. People are practicing wind-removing pose in the parking lot. (I have pictures of this.) When you say the dialogue, you have a whole room of people checking to see if you're doing it right. When you're a teacher, no one is checking (for the most part). There are plenty of times when no one in the room knows if you're saying it "right" (nor do they care). This means that it is up to you to keep yourself honest and stay on track. (And if you happen to have a dialogue trophy sitting on your desk, it is up to you to uphold the high standard for the whole studio, so don't slack!)
And then here are some more differences:
Opposite: At training, you are always saying your dialogue for a bunch of people who already know it. You basically just recite the dialogue. At best, it's role-playing. As a teacher, you are giving instruction to a bunch of people who sometimes have no clue what they are supposed to be doing. You have to actually teach using the dialogue. This is a whole different ballgame.
Opposite: At training, everyone tells you what to do. When you are a teacher, you are responsible for telling everyone else what to do! It's the difference between being a passenger on the bus and driving the bus.
Opposite: In posture clinics at training, you're always kind of worried about "How am I doing?" When you teach class, you stop thinking about yourself. You think about your class and think, "How are they doing??" (And also sometimes, still, ".... but really how am I doing?")
Opposite: At training, people are always around to tell you how you are doing and clap for you when you do well. Heck, even if you kinda suck, your group will still clap for you! As a teacher, you have to chase people down and ask them if you want someone to tell you how you are doing.** And the clapping? Not so often.
Here's the thing, though: teaching is great. Teaching is like a million times better than being a trainee. Why? Because you're actually doing something! When you're in training, it's all just a big simulation, a preview, a teaser for the real thing. It prepares you, kind of... but really, nothing can prepare you for what it feels like to lead a class. With apologies to The Matrix, no one can be told what teaching is... you have to see it for yourself.
I had an awesome class this afternoon. I had been at the studio all day - I took the 9am, taught the 11am, then advanced class right after the 11 ended, and then I barely had time to shove some microwave Pad Thai into my face (thank you Trader Joes!) before students started coming in for the 4pm. And coming in. And coming in. And coming in. Um. I ended up having FIFTY-FIVE people in my 4pm class, which might be some kind of record for me. (Our weekend and evening classes typically have 30-something people, or maybe 40+.) I have no idea where all these people came from. It was some combination of Groupons, 30 day challengers, studio regulars, and random people who just decided to show up for some SuperBowl weekend yoga. I thought this was supposed to happen in January, not February?!
Anyway. My class of 55 people. Man, that room got hot. It was a constant balancing/juggling act to keep the temperature under control, keep everyone moving (or at least alive), and keep the newer folks from bolting for the hills! One of the new girls ended up sitting outside to get air for a couple minutes, but she was by the window where I could keep an eye on her (I have no problem with this), and she rallied and came back in after some coconut water. Hooray!
It was funny, because in the beginning I could feel the whole room being like, "Yo, holy crap, I dunno about this, this is a whole lot of people and it's really hot." I felt a tiny bit of doubt myself, in a very very small and secret place inside myself, when I looked around the room and thought, "Geez, all these people are here listening to me to find out what to do, and I have to convince them to do this whole yoga class?!" (I almost never think this. It's the equivalent of looking down when you're in the middle of a tightrope - you just don't do it. I take my responsibility seriously, but I can't dwell on it!)
But as class went along and we got onto the floor, there was a definite turning point - I felt it - when everyone was like, "ok, alright, this is actually quite cool." I got the fans running and started cracking little jokes, and I can't even remember what I said, but the whole room laughed. Not just once, but a few times. It was fun. We were having fun together. The great thing about Bikram yoga is that yes, it's so hard sometimes that it's almost a sick and twisted joke, but everyone is in on the joke. After rabbit pose, one woman headed for the back door (which I was standing near, adjusting the fans). I grinned at her and said, "Oh, stay! You're doing so great! There's only 5 minutes left." (More like 10 minutes - it was a white lie.) She looked at me and said, "Really? Promise?" I said, "Would I lie to you?" She turned around and went back to her mat, and the whole room surprised me by spontaneously bursting into applause. Someone even went "wooo!" It was terrific.
We finished the class strong, and everyone staggered out looking shell-shocked but happy. My favorite post-class reaction: "That was terrible and awesome! SO awesome!"
I'd do that again.
Of course, now I am torn between feeling awesome (because today was really fun) and feeling like I've been beat up by a gang (because today was no joke)! I am spending my Saturday night on the couch drinking Gatorade and watching more Doctor Who Episodes. (Exterminate!!) Just like at teacher training, I have no life. And just like at teacher training, I am having an unreasonably good time.
Same thing tomorrow!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
** Side story to go along with that point: I have found an exception to this rule. A couple months ago, when I visited Diane and Teri's studios, I discovered the funniest thing. At both (completely separate) studios, the students are used to periodically taking class from visiting/traveling teachers who are there to get feedback from the studio owners. And after almost every class I taught at either of those studios, the students would come out of class and tell me, "You did a good job." Not "great class" or "thanks for class," which are the usual comments - but rather, "You did a good job." And I swear, they would practically pat me on the arm when they said it. "Good job, dear!" It was the funniest, sweetest thing. It still cracks me up, just thinking about it. But that is an anomaly...
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