1. Share Your Enthusiasm (Don’t Curb it!)

I’ll never forget the look on David Garrigues’ face when he helped lift my body through the transition out of eka pada sirsasana (“leg behind head”). It’s a ninja floaty move, and I was far from ninja-y (or floaty-y) and more, uh clunk-y. Enter this rare DG boost through the motions, and as I returned to earth I saw his face and he grinned at me as if to say:

HOW FUN IS THIS SH&T!

The best teachers I know get on their mats because they love to practice yoga; they teach because they love sharing what they do, too. You can just tell– they live for it. In my early days as a teacher, and even in my current days when I feel tired or stressed it’s easy to forget the simple truth: I teach because I love the practice. And when I share that love, it’s (to borrow Richard Freeman’s word from his recent podcast with Ashtanga Dispatch) “infectious.”

2. “Don’t Throw Any Of Yourself Away.” Austin Kleon has an entire chapter in his book, Steal Like an artist, devoted to this idea and I’ve found it applicable to just about everything, including teaching. It makes sense to let all of you come through in your life as a person and as a teacher. David Garrigues’ punk rock and skateboarder past come through in his lively videos (check out the “face plant”) at 4:55-5:24; my teacher friend (and pro skier) Ashley always seems to organically infuse her ski life in with her classes; and my current ashtanga teacher, Sammy, is a recovered addict –knowing that about him makes me respect his practice and thus his teaching that much more, it also shows through his open, non-judgmental approach to everyone in the mysore room.

And have you read blogger and ashtanga-phile, sutras- studier Shanna Small compare kapotasana to her experience learning to swim?

I admit in several embarrassing blogs that I spent my first year teaching doing poor impersonations of the teachers I idolized. Several “worst class ever” teaching experiences painfully revealed the difference between impersonating your favorite teachers versus letting the knowledge and curiosity they’ve sparked in you as a student flow through you as a teacher. There’s a difference between hiding parts of yourself to be more like some vision of what you think a teacher should be versus using those parts of yourself to teach from an organic– thus believable — place.

3. Prioritize Your Own Practice (Over Teaching).

What do the best teachers I know have in common?

They practice.

Call me weird, but I prefer to learn yoga from people who actually do some yoga (“Or aspire to it” as Richard Freeman might say). Maybe this is because the teachers I respect have their own committed, daily practice– and this goes for the vinyasa/Bikram worlds as well as in ashtanga-land.

I remember practicing mysore at the yoga workshop where they had two sessions each morning. The teachers of the second session were always there practicing in the first session. On the days other teachers taught, I’d see the teachers in the room doing their own practice. When I’d see the wonderful vinyasa teacher Lesley Desaulniers in her Brooklyn studio, she’d invariably be talking about the space she’d carved out that day for her own practice.

Yes, I believe that the ability to teach someone in the moment means having yoga practice in your life moment to moment, day to day. And yes, I believe this because this is what my practice has taught me. You have a daily practice, you evolve, you change, you feel the cues change with you. It doesn’t give me a perfect rigid route or “right way” for teaching, but an awareness that I reach people best by reacting in the moment, moment to moment, to others the way I do with myself.

I practice because my teachers inspire me to practice. I teach, because practice inspires me to teach.

4. Be A Carol. There’s More Than Enough For Everyone — Help Other Teachers Get in the Door.

I moved four times in five years (Brooklyn >Boulder>D.C. >Virginia >Park CIty). With each move I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without the help of other yoga teachers pushing me along. I arrived fresh off the teacher training press from New York to Boulder, Co, where yoga teachers make up 75% of the census % of the population is roudned out by dogs).  Thankfully, Nancy Kate Rau helped me get my foot in the door. Touching down in D.C., it was none other than Peg Mulqueen (of Ashtanga Dispatch) and friends nudging me to my teaching in that fabulous yoga city.

As for Park City, let me tell you about my friend Carol. She’s a beloved teacher with a physical therapy background and a mountain of packed Carol-crazy classes to show for it. You know what these guys with followings and packed classes don’t do? They don’t get threatened; they get curious. Carol championed me when I landed here, taking my class and supporting it. Then, when she left for the summer, she hooked me up to cover her packed sunday morning class.

Carol is special– she goes above and beyond to support other teachers and their individual special ways of offering yoga practice (remember Austin Kleon’s advice– “don’t throw any of yourself away!”)

I hope to be more like Carol.

Do I occasionally fall prey to SMALL SELF BITCHY JEAN who sees other teachers and morphs into a greedy small Gollum-y anti-Carol? Yes. But catering to small self bitchy sucky jean makes me feel like crap. You get in the game by giving and sharing more than you do by taking and hoarding.

Trust the girl with the leg behind her head who has been there again and again as the “New Girl” (minus Zoe Dechanel’s quirky cuteness and until recently, bangs): there’s more than enough for everyone, so–

Be a Carol.

5. You Don’t have to be a Social Media Star to be a good teacher. Nope. You have to be an Instagram star to be… an instagram star. Sure, in certain big cities you need some kind of presence. But one of the best teachers I’ve met is Sammy Brown here in SLC, and his insta account is populated with cat photos and tumbleweeds rolling by between rare postings. You know who else doesn’t have an active account? That’s right: Carol. Personally, I’m actively showing my practice online, but this doesn’t translate much into students. That still happens the good old fashioned way– connecting in the moment, in person with people in my classes. I spend plenty of time with my legs behind my head on social media–

It still has nothing on connecting in real life.

6. Cheerlead, Don’t Judge.

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them” ~ Mother Theresa

Sometimes when teaching I see students doing things that I hate, I mean like nails on a chalkboard type stuff….

I’m gonna call myself out here– this says more about me than anyone else, and it distracts me from what i’m actually trying to do. I find that no matter who I approach, it works best when i don’t do so with a big judgmental axe to grind. Put another way, as Dena Kingsberg beautifully said at the ashtanga yoga confluence “people respond when you’re soft.”  And why not be soft– we are in this together, after all.

In my experience, a good teacher is a cheerleader (or, as David Garrigues calls it, a “cosmic cheerleader”.

(Pom Poms optional.)

7. Consistency is Not at Odds with Evolution And Breaking the Mold.

What do Mark Robberds, Kino MacGregor and Eddie Stern have in common (besides the ashtanga thing?) they are all doing cool new things– from other movement practices, to tv channels to science and yoga and breathing apps. They also share in common a consistent, regular daily practice.

What this tells me is that if you really want to evolve and break through the ceiling you’ve capped onto your own potential,

“any regular, repetitive action primes the well.” (julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way).

Or, perhaps with ashtanga, you can repeat yourself different.  Just listen to Jen Rene talk about evolving the mold with reference to how we teach:

“Ashtanga Yoga will continue through all the committed practitioners around the world. Currently we have an opportunity to evolve how this practice is taught.  We can teach in a way that student and teacher are on more equal ground. No student should be hurt by an adjustment in practice. It’s time to teach to the student in front of you – to meet that person where they are on any given day. If Ashtanga is to evolve being able to see the student is far more important than a posture or series.

It’s up to us, the current generations of Ashtanga practitioners to reinvigorate the model so that it provides the capacity for students to make their way down their spiritual path.”

8. Be Humble: Even The Best Get Crooked And Down On The Ground

On Labor Day I went to San Diego and headed for Tim Miller’s Ashtanga Yoga Center. Tim was there (holiday be damned) teaching. In headstand I noticed Tim on the floor, angling his head, brow furrowed in concentration and then:

“yep,” he declared: “You’re crooked.“

It’s true– but thanks to Tim on the floor–  I am a little less so.

At the Ashtanga yoga confluence, Richard Freeman said: “Our practice should be getting off pedestals.”  From these giants of the teacher species I’ve learned that part of being big is staying small– present in the single present moment with your students, as in, down on the ground to work with them. Because that’s just it– the best teachers are collaborative dancers in the moment with me, sharing the practice we have in common rather than standing untouchably apart.

9. Every person is an opportunity: teach people, not numbers.

As a new teacher I struggled with small classes, few students, teaching one person. Lesley DeSaulniers gave me this advice: Everyone is an opportunity. I wrote a blog entitled just that and I won’t rehash it here, except that It began with teaching a new class in a new town. One person showed. By the time I left the class, it was full.

Don’t forget–

Everyone is an opportunity, including — maybe most of all — you.

10. A Daily Practice Teaches What We Can’t See….Yet

Yes, it has been said before and watch me falling in line: The practice is itself one of the best damn teachers I have, and as a solo practitioner — sometimes it’s everything.

A daily committed practice has taught me that the only thing between where I am now and where I want to be is practice. This is going to sound cheese-y and new age-y, because, well, it is.

I apologize, but understand that this is scientific method, experiment-based cheesy-ness. After nine months of failure to launch, I managed to rise up into third series arm balance called “urdhva kukkutasana.”  I spend hours telling myself Jean, you want to do x, y and z in this precious life? Well why the eff don’t you get to your desk/skis/parenting hat/mindfulness class and work on it like you do your practice on your mat?

 

It’s a new year. What do you want to do or achieve? Is it out of reach, or is it just somewhere between now and practices later?

Let’s find out.

~~~~~~~~

I called this blog “ten things I’ve learned about teaching from some really great teachers.” Then again, perhaps i should call it:

What I’ve learned about Living.

Happy New Year!

xo, jean marie