“We all know fear. But passion makes us fearless.” – Paulo Coelho
Yesterday during a group workout in the park, I checked my phone and saw a text message by my yoga teacher, “You wanna give it a go today? Teach.”
My mind immediately raced to excuses as to why I couldn’t do it. The class is in an hour… I don’t have enough time…. I’m not adequately prepared…. I’m in the middle of something…
As I stared down at the text, I realized the biggest excuse was I was scared. Plain and simple. My heart has been wanting to share and teach yoga since I began four years ago. I finally made the time and comittment to teacher training last August, and just officially received my 200 hr certificate a few days ago. But truly, I could have been practicing my teaching skills a long time ago. I had (enough) knowledge to instruct a class. So why was it taking me so long to get out there and do it?
I ended up putting conditions on when and where I was going to teach, making it easier for me to back out of it and blame everything but my fear. I couldn’t teach till I “officially” completed all my hours, I wanted to invest in insurance first so that I was covered, I wanted to learn more about anatomy so I could cue poses better, I was still figuring out my teaching style… blah blah blah.
Oh ya, and I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to be that teacher who didn’t mess up and do the same side twice, who could perform demos with grace and ease, who didn’t need a “cheat sheet” of the sequence at the front of their mat, and who could answer any and all questions like a master guru. I wanted to be like my teachers who have a silent confidence and effortless beauty to their classes (and years and years of experience). They say the right things at all the perfect moments, and give me that little something extra to contemplate as I leave the studio and take my yoga and physical body back to the outside world.
Holding myself up to a standard of perfection was holding me back. I was scared to teach until I was perfect, which is obviously a huge joke and so not happening. This deeply rooted anxiety was coming from a place of unrealistic expectations and my strong desire to effortlessly communicate the many beautiful aspects of yoga.
So before I could bail out on the opportunity, I let my teacher know I could step in and teach. No backing out now. I raced home to prepare. I looked over the sequence I had been playing with that week, put on my red “fire” pants from lululemon (wearing them has always brought a feeling of strength and power), adorned my wrist with a special bracelet from Spain (given to me by a loved one), and grabbed a few shells I had found during my solo Australia & Indonesia adventure (as a reminder to have courage and be bold.)
Before heading to class, I text a few people I knew would supply words of encouragement and ease my racing mind and heart. As expected, they all got back to me sending positive vibes, funny emojis, wishing me luck, and promising that I was going to rock it. I sent a silent prayer to the universe asking for faith and the ability to get out of my own head for an hour and fifteen minutes so I could focus on my students and be present for them.
And before I knew it, my first official class was over! I was instructing the students into savasana, and I could breathe a sigh of relief. I survived.
We all start somewhere, but the most important thing is you have to START. You have to take that first step whether it’s big or small. Take the leap, the net will appear. Have compassion for yourself and don’t worry about the screw-ups, they are inevitable and serve as a learning experience. Let your passion and faith be bigger than your fear. And when all else fails, go out and buy yourself some red pants, I swear they make a difference. 😉
Happy Aloha Friday & have a beautiful week!
