One of my first teaching opportunities came through a friend from my teacher training course. She asked if I would sub for her, to teach a class that she had been leading for the past few weeks for a corporate group downtown. I jumped at the opportunity to teach.
I went right to work, putting together a sequence that would include options to suit all levels of experience, as the group was a mix of new students and a few advanced practitioners. The weekend before the class I rehearsed my plan, from how I would start with a theme about power coming from within, followed by three Oms then a warm-up.
The day before class my friend called to see how my preparation was going. She mentioned that I would have the option to play music during the session, and that the students seemed to enjoy having something a bit mellow playing in the background. That night while scanning the songs on my iPod a slight panic came over me. I tried to rationalize that Neil Young's Harvest album would be an appropriate selection. I frantically searched for serene and calming music on iTunes, slightly ironic, I know. Eventually I came up with my first 'yoga tunes' playlist.
Confident with my plan, I went to teach the group, certain that I would enlighten them with my yogic teachings and tunes. The group was friendly, and I introduced myself to all the students as they came in. It was a great start, my music was playing in the background, I set up my mat at the front of the space and mentally reviewed my class plan as I waited for everyone to get settled.
When it was time to start I asked everyone to take a comfortable seat on their mats. One of the students, an older gentleman, told me he was fine to start the class standing. I urged him to take a seat. Reluctantly, he did. I welcomed the group and started into my theme—blank looks stared back at me—I continued on and asked that everyone close their eyes and bring their hands together in front of their chests.
Then I put it out there: "We will chant three Oms together… Inhale to Om."
I took a deep breath and started the first Om. Maybe two out of the 12 voices chimed in. I fought the urge to open my eyes, to peek out at the group, to see what was up. Time stopped as I recalled that I had, in fact, said I would chant three times. I took a deep breath in and chanted the last two Oms, my voice the only sound in the room.
I shook off the awkward start, turned up the music and started the warm-up. After the first sun salutation, the older gentlemen told me he could not hear me over the music. Gah! I turned the music down and pressed on with my sequence. Remembering what my teacher told me during our training, I found the most enthusiastic student and locked my eyes on her: her smile giving me the positive boost I needed. I walked around the room and offered encouragement to the new students and then challenged the advanced yogis. Apart from getting my lefts and rights confused in the forward folds and twists, I finished the class unscathed.
Now that I have had more experience teaching, I try to take the group dynamics into account. More importantly, I feel that we need to stay true to our authentic self. If this means you want to share some insights or have the group connect at the beginning with an Om, then do so. You may be pleasantly surprised. That said, when teaching a new group, I usually start with a single Om! Namaste!
Photos: by fatherrazz
