Students and Teachers

Last week, I got a phone call from an old colleague of mine, Susan.  She was calling to ask if I would teach yoga to a group of women in a parenting class she is facilitating.  Susan is one of those people that embodies what is right in the world.  I think she always does the right thing.  She was a home-ec teacher before she had kids, has raised 3 beautiful daughters, has more Cougar spirit than most men I know, fights against injustice, stands up for what she believes in, even when its hard. She is one of those people you feel privileged to know.  I don't see her often or catch up with her on any kind of a regular basis, but when our paths do cross, I am always thankful.
When she called, I, of course, said yes.  Susan is one of those people that I would probably say yes to just about anything she asked me to do.  She proceeded to describe to me the women she is working with.  They are living in a clean and sober house.  They are all mothers, but none of them have custody of their children.  They are completing this parenting program as a part of their treatment and what they have to do to get their children back.  They live in a highly structured environment, express feeling very judged, watched, and have very little free time or time for self care.  She described them as needing deep healing, many having suffered significant trauma and abuse in their lives.  I asked myself, can yoga begin to heal them? I believe it can.
I have never taught yoga in this way, to a group that hadn't necessarily chosen to do yoga.  As I agreed to do it, I thought to myself that I would have to really plan for this class, that I couldn't just wing it so to speak.  I wasn't really sure where to begin.  I believe in the power of yoga and trusted that if I sat with the idea, with the intention to do the right thing, to offer these women something that could be of use to them, it would come to me.
One morning on my early walk, I started to craft the class in my head as I walked.  It seemed to come together in my mind, make sense as to what would work and what they would be open to.  I spent some time last night outlining what I would teach.  I don't pretend to know what goes on inside the head of anyone else, but I did have some ideas about what these women might be feeling, about what ideas they might have about who they are or what they are.  I believe with all my heart, that at their center, they are light, radiant beings, filled with potential for joy, love, and compassion and without saying that, I wanted them to feel that. 
I had my regular noon class today at the yoga studio and then headed over to where the parenting class meets.  They took a break when I got there, so I could set up the room for the class.  I laid out the mats, put them in a circle, hoping that it might foster a sense of unity, as opposed to a sense that I was the teacher and they my students.  The two mats on either side of mine were the last to be taken.
I talked for a bit about what yoga is, about why I do it.  One woman said to me, "You aren't going to make us like to downward dog or warriors or that s#it, are you?"  Another woman asked me if I had been to a studio in Spokane where they talk about "tapping into your divine energy".  I could see that they were nervous, definitely out of their comfort zone.  I was too, not nervous, out of my comfort zone.  I just held on to the notion that if I practiced what I was there to teach, it would all turn out okay. 
There was lots of giggling the first 15 minutes or so, side conversations, inappropriate comments.  At one point, one of the women who had looked skeptically at me when we began said, "This actually does feel good."  I stayed with it and they began to soften a little, to get a little more comfortable.  I almost felt as if they were testing me, seeing if I was the real deal or if I was just preaching something I didn't practice, if you know what I mean.
The last 10 minutes or so of class we practiced savasana.  Rather than simply let them lay there, I talked them through a guided meditation/relaxation.  I could see the feet of two women tapping, could see them struggling to completely relax.  I kept talking.  Eventually, they all settled in.  They all became still, quiet, a couple might have even fallen asleep.  It worked.  Yoga did its trick.  I could see as they came out of savasana, they all looked a little calmer, more peaceful, more centered.  As we brought our hands together in prayer at heart center to close the class, I shared with them why we say Namaste at the end of each class.  As I spoke a heartfelt Namaste and bowed to them, I felt immense gratitude and respect for what they taught me in our time together.  I just hope that they got as much out of the experience as I did.