I'm
new to New Mexico, but I'm not new to yoga. I've been practicing yoga
since 1997 and teaching it since 1999. For the last thirteen years
I've lived a short drive from LA and gloriously had access tomany
accomplished yogis: Judith Hanson Lasater, Annie Carpenter, Max
Strom, Pandit Rajmani, Shiva Rea, Amy Wheeler. I have taught yoga and
Eastern Religion at the college level for the last twelve years,
which required eight hours of training in my area of focus each
semester. If asked, I would say I'm quite familiar with the mat, the
poses, and the philosophy of yoga. Do I still have things to learn
about yoga? Absolutely. I just don't see myself as a novice at this
point in my practice, but
a novice is exactly what I felt like last weekend.
I've
been trying to find a place to practice yoga in my new hometown and
it's not going quite as I had expected...once more my expectations
are creating suffering. On Saturday I went to a class at a local
studio to try out a teacher I had heard was “good”. I'm not an
early riser so I was jazzed that I got myself up and out for a
morning class.
It
was a small group consisting of three of his regular students and
myself. We started with a meditation, I was primed. I was ready to
focus on my body, my breath, and to quiet the fluctuations of my
mind. He instructed us (almost solely in sanskrit) onto our hands and
knees for bitilasana to warm up with a series of cow/cat back. I was
feeling the pose: fingers spread wide, fingertips pressing down into
the mat, arms and calves lengthening, spine rounding methodically
with each inhale and exhale. Then we were guided back to neutral
position and led into extended table. As I stretched out my right
arm, fingers lengthening to the front wall, my left leg reaching
back, foot flexed, toes spread. I brought my awareness to my left hip
and I consciously turned it down ever so gently, pulling the left
side of my waist upward as I lowered the hip to level out my back and
that's when it started. He approached me and suggested I turn my hip
more toward the floor...what the fuck, I just made that adjustment
myself...well ok, let me see if I can follow his prodding finger and
move the hip even more. Moving away from me he leaned on the wall
between myself and another student. Next up: ardha muhka shvanasana.
I extended my hands ever so slightly from table, curled my toes
under, and as I exhaled I lifted my bent knees off the floor and
began to stretch out into my version of downward facing dog.We stayed
for five breaths; my last breath was a sigh of relief as he moved to
the other side of the room.
We
were then guided through Surya Namaskar A...so far so good. I was
starting to find some ease in my practice once more. As we took our
first Anjaneyasana I was approached again and the teacher moved my
arms to a bent elbow position putting me in a cactus arm position. He
told me if I couldn't straighten my arms upward without lifting my
shoulders I needed to stay in a bent elbow position. I noticed the
rest of the class was already in cactus arms so I aligned myself with
the rest of the class out of respect for the teacher’s instruction.
He then moved his attention to my left hip asking me to rotate it
forward more by prodding my left buttocks (nothing untoward). I could
feel that his prodding was not good for my body and I said no, that I
could not rotate it anymore and he moved on.
His
critique of my poses continued throughout the class. My Marichyasana
was wrong, in Bakasana I was instructed to pull my knees in tighter
against my arms, in Dolasana I was quizzed on the levers in the body.
He was relentless and I felt terrible about my asana, my breath, my
total lack of knowledge.
For
obvious reasons I had a difficult time quieting my mind in shavasana
at the end of class.
The
words “bad yogi” drifted by like clouds overhead. Then I
realized
there was very little critiquing of his regular students,
only me.
As
I discussed my discomfort with the class, it's my nature to assume
there must be an issue with me, Pete gave me his opinion. He may be a
knowledgeable yoga teacher, but he's not a good yoga teacher. There
was only criticism of me, no praise; only arrogance toward me, no
humility, and these qualities do not make a good yoga teacher. It was
a reminder that just because a teacher knows their Sanskrit, that
does not make them a good yoga teacher. Ultimately I think a good
yoga teacher is humble and feels a connection to the needs of the
students in front of them. A good yoga teacher should definitely
realize when they are making corrections to the detriment of the
students quiet mind.
