I love my job. I love the people I meet, and the creative process of choreographing a sequence to a playlist. I love researching ways to help, and figuring out how I can weave that knowledge into my classes. I love reading the class energy and making changes on the fly. And I love when I get a new student.
They're often timid, a little nervous, and generally will place their mat closest to the door or as far back into the corner of the room as they can. Sometimes they'll even approach me before class and say, "I've really never taken yoga before, and I'm not even sure I'll get through the class."
You know what I say to that?
"I don't care."
And, confession. I really don't care.
If I didn't have to start the class right then and had more time to talk with them, I would expand.
Ode to a New Yoga Student
I don't care if your clothes match, if you have a hole in your shirt, or, gasp - your pants are slightly sheer; I care that you threw on whatever you had to make it to class.
It doesn't matter to me if you can't straighten your legs in downward dog or can't stay still in savasana. I care that you gave it a solid attempt and let that be enough.
It doesn't matter to me if you sweat a lot even though the class is a gentle flow, or if you're bone dry after a power hour; it matters that you listened to your body and gave what you had.
I don't care if you started crying in pigeon pose or were laughing uncontrollably in happy baby, I care that you let yourself experience whatever swelled up and were willing to ride that wave without self-judgement.
I don't care if your Om is really loud or off-key.
I don't even care if you're quiet while the rest of the class chants a closing Om.
I care that you sat with an open mind, allowed yourself to soak up the positivity around you, and let that energy carry you throughout the rest of your day.