Before the yoga art adventures continue, so shall my story of yoga teacher training (YTT) and the actual teaching of yoga that followed!
Behind the Scenes of Being a Yoga Teacher
Even though I’d wanted to go through YTT, I ultimately feared the teaching aspect. For one, the public speaking bit terrified me. Also frightening was the idea that someone would ask me a question and I wouldn’t know the answer. And what if I led someone to have a painful or injurious experience? What if I adjusted someone who didn’t want me touching them? What if I forgot the sequences I had planned?
In retrospect, I realize that if I had a yoga teacher friend with these worries, I would tell them that the fact they even care so much about doing a good job and ensuring everyone was having a safe, fun time is an indicator that they would do well. A part of me has always felt like, “Who do you think you are, thinking you know what you’re doing? And now you’re trying to convince others of the same thing?” But I guess the solution is to just play it honest—do what I know how to do, admit to mistakes, laugh off faux pas, and just not take myself or any situation so seriously. “How do I want my students to feel?” was the question to ask there.
Besides, I did want to be seen as an expert, as much as I feared being in that position. I also really enjoyed putting together classes and playlists. It excited me to bring my creativity to yoga, to structure the kind of class I would want to take myself.
And so, I took steps forward as soon as training concluded. I registered with Yoga Alliance, took a CPR course, and got myself some bolsters and blankets. Opportunities presented themselves in short order: I was soon regularly teaching classes at a couple local studios (including my favorite place, The Wonderstone Gallery) as well as giving private lessons. I was even so bold as to contact a nearby business and offer to be their on-site, after-work yoga teacher for their employees. I assisted and collaborated with fellow teachers on yoga workshops and wrote a yoga article for a local indie magazine. Look at me go, showing moxie and can-do-it-tivity and accomplishing my white mage goals!
However, I never got used to teaching. I often would have brief out-of-body experiences when I was teaching (and, perhaps ironically, advising everyone to be present) and think, “How am I doing this right now? How am I commanding a room? I can’t believe this is me.”
In addition to bewildering me, teaching also sapped a lot of my time and energy. I occasionally taught classes on the fly, but by and large, I had a sequence all planned out, from drop-in to Savasana. Before heading over to the studio, I would quickly run through all the poses I’d prepared, like listening to a 33 RPM record on the 45 RPM setting. I created playlists and memorized the songs that would alert me when to turn up the intensity and when to wind things down.
Everything was very orchestrated, which seems in opposition to yoga’s chill, organic vibe. The structure was a scramble for me to feel more at ease, yet still I almost always had a stomach ache of stress before class. I simply never got used to the performance aspect of teaching yoga and the accompanying anxiety—not even after I taught 100+ university students wearing glow-in-the-dark necklaces in a dark gymnasium at a Glow and Flow event. (That feels like a dream, like it happened to someone else. I even had a microphone!) Teaching became easier, but it was never effortless, not like I’d hoped.
I stopped teaching after I moved from Pennsylvania to Oregon in 2015, and I do miss parts of it. (After seeing Inside Out at the drive-in, I told my honey that I was worried about my Yoga Island falling into the dump.) I miss feeling confident, empowered, and like a leader in the yoga community. I miss meeting and connecting with other yogis; it helped me feel involved in the world. And honestly, teaching made me feel good about myself. I saw students leave my class in a visibly more relaxed, content state than when they arrived. I had people hug me and thank me because they liked my classes so much. This was especially amazing on days when I’d felt off my game and not good at teaching. Reminders that I can’t anticipate what kind of meaning someone will wring from what I do just blew my mind.
One of the last times I taught yoga was under casual, collaborative circumstances; I showed my sister-in-law some modifications and restorative poses she could do using bolsters and blocks. She gave me feedback on the poses. In turn, I gave her helpful adjustments (something I felt so shy about doing once upon a time!). Together, we tweaked the poses so that they were comfortable challenges. I felt so amazing afterward; it was such a rewarding, mutually beneficial interaction. Maybe I was a good yoga instructor after all!
More Yoga Art (Pixelasana)
Drawing a diverse cast of characters striking different asanas wasn’t my only foray in creating yoga art. In 2018 and 2019, I created a series that combined photos of yogis practicing in pixelated video game environments. (I once referred to this series as Pixelasana on my Patreon and then promptly forgot I ever had that idea, so this project went largely untitled.)
It’s unclear what led to this idea. Maybe it was as simple as me having a growing Pinterest board of advanced yoga poses that I kept forgetting to consult before practicing yoga myself. I also followed a now-defunct Tumblr that featured backgrounds for video games published by Sierra Entertainment. (I’m deeply nostalgic about those games; I played a lot of King’s Quest 4, 6, and 7 and Laura Bow 1 and 2 growing up, and I always wanted to explore every bit of their scenery.)
Anyway—perhaps I had no stronger idea one day than to add a yogi in Skandasana to the beach in King’s Quest 4: The Perils of Rosella. The yogi’s giant size (as tall as the palm trees!) in the highly pixelated setting entertained me. I didn’t try hard to make the yogi blend seamlessly into her environment; I liked the ludicrous juxtaposition. Plus, this new project combined so many of my interests: yoga, art, and the video games of my youth.
I eventually invited others to propose video games into which I could insert yogis. The resulting suggestions ran the gamut: Paper Boy, Tetris, Tomb Raider, Sonic & Knuckles, even the text-only game, Zork. It was fun to get others’ involvement! And it definitely challenged me. (How am I going to pop this yogi into a text-only game??)
Here’s the collection of the pixel yoga art, gang. Which video game would you choose to practice yoga or meditate in, or just simply explore?
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