My first time

I’m thinking about my students: those who have opened or are opening their own studios; those who are pursuing their yoga certification; those who come to class to practice with me; those who have moved on to different paths and lands. Also thinking of my colleagues and the responsibility that we have when we stand before our students. And also, perhaps selfishly, thinking of my teaching and where is it taking me.

I had my first yoga experience almost ten years ago. It didn’t happen at a fancy yoga studio or fitness club—at a facility that provided bottled water or towels or complementary chair massages or expensive workshops. The magic happened in the living room of an acquaintance. The humble donation was five dollars per class. We didn’t have blocks, straps, or mats—only a few regular blankets and lots of floor. It was not love at first sight, but then I am not a love-at-first-sight kind of guy.

My guru’s accent wasn’t Indian but very Cuban. He didn’t have a Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram account—he didn’t even have a computer. He didn’t have a car, either, so every week some of his students would give him a ride to the studio so he could teach us.
He wasn’t a swami, a monk, a guru, a yogi, or anything like that. He didn’t wear a mala, stylish yoga pants, or spiritual T-shirts with cool messages. He was an ordinary, humble family man who had learned yoga in his country while trying to be a good husband and father under less-than-ideal circumstances. You could see and feel the joy that man experienced every time he taught a posture. He infused his teaching with love and compassion. Teaching was his way of being of service, his dharma, his spiritual practice. In his presence, through his selflessness and humility, you felt there were no differences between him and his students; he was a devoted student, too, of the path.

Looking back to those first steps, I consider myself very lucky because I was introduced to the practice of yoga and meditation with a very clear intention. You work on your body and your mind to realize your full potential. I saw yoga from day one as a spiritual practice, a link to myself, a way to reach deep within me and bring some clarity to the superficial chaos that seemed to be the constant reality. In that early learning environment, the theory never overtook the practice. The particular lineage of school was never relevant. It was clear to me that the student and the teacher were in the same boat heading in the same direction. Self-realization. Becoming better human beings, more compassionate beings, more loving. Taking care of our bodies and diligently working on our minds.

In a world that seems out of control most of the time, where shapes and appearances are regarded as most important than quality and meaning; in a world where yoga and meditation are proliferating like fast-food chains, it is important to remind yourself why you practice, why you teach—to remember the things that brought you to this path and the reasons you are staying on it.