Choose your words carefully...

Tonight before my class began we were all kinda chit-chatting. Various topics came up and I was asking if anyone had anything specific they would like to work tonight in class. I have one gal who always throws out "We could just do final relaxation for the whole class." We always laugh and today I told them that someday I was going to honor that request and that I didn't think they would find it as easy as it sounds. No unnecessary fidgeting. No sleeping. No making lists in your head. (That one brought up a few "uh-ohs".) Suddenly the memory of my least meditative meditation experience came up and I thought it appropriate to share with the class.

As those who have ever attended a yoga conference know, there's usually the chance to join in group morning meditation before the "official" sessions begin for the day. Last spring I attended one such session. Mind you as someone not known for her "morning person" personality (I'm much more a night owl, hence why I'm writing this at 9:45 pm) getting up for one of those sessions took a little extra effort but I couldn't pass up the chance for a new experience. So I set an earlier alarm that allowed just enough time for me to get up, dress, brush my teeth, and grab my mat and my wrap (conference rooms in hotels are often cold...even in June) and headed to the designated room. I chose a spot near a window where some sun was streaming in, made myself comfortable and waited for the person leading that morning's meditation to signal that we were ready to begin.

Things were going well. I was comfortable and focusing on my breath UNTIL the instructor said something to the affect of "Let's remain still, finding a place of stillness again if we have felt the need to move so that we can find SUCCESS in our mediation today."

Success? Really? I wasn't aware that I was coming to my meditation to find success. All I could think about for the remainder of our seated time was what a poor choice of words "success" was in that setting. The more times the instructor uttered those words the more I wanted to simply roll up my mat and walk out of the room.

Personal I don't judge my time spent in meditation by if I was successful in remaining perfectly still. Meditation time is still sporadic enough for me simply committing myself to some sitting time brings positive vibes in and of itself. But what if there were total newbies in the room? What if someone left feeling like they had FAILED because they couldn't remain comfortable and still? What if that feeling of failure meant those people NEVER tried meditation again after that one experience because they were certain they would never find success?

I thought about that story a lot tonight as we progressed through a class that ended with time spent working assisted forearm balances, handstands and headstands at the wall. I try to explore these type of inversions in my Wednesday night class at least once a month. Even so we often have new classmates who haven't been with us before as we've turned our world upside down OR who have, but still are uncomfortable with the concept of trusting their body to support them in a new perspective. I always talk about the importance of simply being open to the thought of trying something new and that being present, aware of how one is feeling as an unfamiliar pose is attempted is all I'm asking of them. And of course they always have the option NOT to do the poses or to ask for an alternate pose to work on if they wish. Never would I want someone to feel as though I've viewed their attempt as a failure. After all aren't we all our own worst critics? Nobody needs to also feel as though I'm viewing their attempt in a poor light if they themselves are feeling a bit disappointed in their attempt.

Earlier today as I was teaching my seniors class, where we had someone new come for her first class, I was thinking about a very similar topic. I love my senior classes. They are slower. They are thoughtful. They are full of options to accommodate knee replacements, hip replacements, back troubles, cranky joints, and balance concerns. My seniors are the most dedicated practitioners, filling our small studio each class 3 days a week. They are also some of the most stubborn students when it comes to getting them to understand there is no "perfect" pose. That at 70-something they shouldn't compare how they look to how I look at 30-something. That if something hurts it doesn't mean just ignore the pain because it will get better with time. They want to have a goal to work towards. A measure of their success. This was the case with our new classmate today. She was embarrassed by how much should couldn't do today on her FIRST day. Luckily we have a wonderful community who offered her many positive comments and after I reassured her that it's not about being able to do everything perfect, it's about doing what she can where she is each and every day, I think she'll be joining us again.

The longer I practice (and teach) yoga, the more the whole concept of what's success and what's failure shifts in my thoughts. In fact I've really felt an aversion to the word success lately because I feel like we limit ourselves in so many ways if we only think about finding success in our adventures. Or in some instances the experiences we miss out on because we're afraid of failure.

Once again I'm reminded of the power of the words we choose to use as teachers of yoga. I hope that through my years of teaching I'm able to keep light of this fact and choose my words carefully.


namaste