Teaching a group of yoga students can be a wonderful experience, as well as an enlightening one. Even though I’m the one teaching, I almost always learn something from my students. Most recently, I’ve had to relearn the lesson of letting go. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, yet it still surprises me when people come to me desperate for help then fail to even say thank you much less actually listen to and carry out my suggestions. Frankly, I like that it still surprises me — I’d hate to think that I’ve become cynical about it all, closing down my penchant for helping folks who ask for help regardless of whether they’re paying me/thanking me or not.
Not long ago, I was teaching a class in which one student in particular had difficulty listening to my direction. My preferred teaching style is to give my students space to have their own experience rather than over-engineer it with excessive direction. Yet, I’m often in the position that I was in recently — there was a beginner in my class who was concerned with “getting it right” and was looking for lots of guidance. Being that this student is new to yoga much less the style of yoga that I teach, she often found it difficult to remember the sequences I was teaching. I adapted my teaching style to this student and offered up more verbal and visual cues than I normally do in class.
As I drove home after teaching this class my mind wandered to listening. This student’s attention often wandered and at times, I wondered if she was actually listening to my instruction or simply relying on her past — albeit brief — experience with yoga. As the saying goes, those in glass houses…
Back in Boston, I practiced at a studio whose classes were somewhat predictible despite who was teaching. One day I was flowing through my practice when I realized that everyone else in class was in a different asana than I. Sure enough my automatic pilot had kicked on and I was anticipating — incorrectly, I might add — where the teacher was going next. Rather than listening to the teacher, I was in my head making assumptions.
That experience came to mind as I was driving home from class, musing about the student who seemed to be unable to listen to direction. I was reminded of the times that I haven’t listened — both in and out of class. It reminded me of the times I made assumptions based on the past rather than listen to what was being said/happening in the future. And I started to think about listening in relationships with others and with myself. I suggest you do the same by asking yourself:
- Do I listen to my body or simply ignore its signals? As we all know, our body gives us hints before it hits us over the head with a brick (usually in the form of a serious health crisis). If you simply power through your life without paying mind to what your body is telling you (think loading up on coffee when you’re tired rather than look at why you might be tired and what lifestyle modifications you need to make to remedy the fatigue), eventually your body goes on strike and you’re forced to take the time out that you needed.
- Do I listen to my family/friends or am I too focused on myself? We’ve all known an “it’s all about me” person who dominates the conversation without ever once asking “how are you?” And how does that make us feel? I’ve been on the receiving end of this type of behavior, so I’ll say not so good. So the next time you’re having a conversation, notice whether or not you’re listening — really listening. Are you thinking about what you want to say next or wondering what the person is thinking about you or in your own head — if so, then you’re not really listening.
- Am I seeing what’s really in front of me, or am I making up a story about it? So your friend doesn’t return your phone call as he/she usually does. At first, you might not think too much of it. But after some time passes, you may start to wonder what’s going on. Your mind takes over from there — “I can’t believe I didn’t get a call back. Is this person mad at me? The last time we were together I did notice that this person was a little quiet but I didn’t do anything to make him/her angry. I can’t believe I’m getting the cold shoulder. I’ve done nothing wrong. This person needs to grow up. Well, if he/she is mad at me, I’m certainly not going to call. I don’t need to apologize. If anything, this person needs to apologize to me.” After all of this ranting and raving in your head, you then find out that this friend has been out of town tending to a sick relative who has just died. Ah, the truth dawns — it’s not all about you. Your friend has had other things on his/her mind and has been grieving.
- Am I in the moment or on autopilot? Do you find yourself in yoga class going along your merry practice only to realize that the teacher has given a direction that you weren’t expecting and you’re now totally out of sync with the class, as I had done years ago? Approaching things — especially things that we’re very familiar with — with a beginner’s mind can be a challenge. It’s so easy to slip into the “it will be as it’s always been” mindset and move through life on autopilot. Years ago, I was invited to a wedding shower in my old hometown. I was in the bridal party, so I planned to get to the event early to set up. When I was making the arrangements with the other members of the bridal party, I was convinced that I knew where the venue was. After receiving the invitation in the mail, I was still convinced. In fact, I was certain of the location and I had already planned the best route to get there from where I was staying. The morning of the shower I jumped in my car and followed the planned route. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the location to realize — GASP! — that I was at the wrong place. That’s when I realized that I had been operating on assumption rather than paying attention in the moment. Luckily, my penchant for leaving early served me well that day — I still got to the location early even though I had to travel to a new venue.
The lessons that yoga teach us go beyond asana and what we learn in yoga philosophy class. The lessons are there whether we teach or study or practice yoga. We only have to be open to seeing them. And then we must listen — to our hearts, to our teachers, to our students. Because as the quote above so beautifully states, it is only when we listen that we are able to lead with our hearts.
And since this post is about listening, I offer up a beautiful composition worth listening to — The Cosmic Melody. Attuned to 528 hz. this melody will help you attune to your own center. Happy listening!
Namaste!
