You get to choose too.
I have to remind myself of this a lot. When someone doesn’t choose me, or has a different way of doing things, my default is to think that there is something wrong with me. Their way is better. I am doing “everything” wrong.
We all have The Joneses - the people we compare ourselves to. These are the friends, the social media contacts and neighbors we choose to self-flagellate with. Our successes are either propped up or diminished by them.
For example; yesterday we hosted a “last day of school” party for a bunch of tweens. It was six hours of 12-year-olds rough housing, and video gaming. Fun and exhausting. This party was for the kids, but it was also a way for me to see how they interacted, what the social pecking order was and how my child fit into it.
It was also an opportunity to meet the parents connected to his friends. There was the usual exchange of pleasantries; thank you for having him, thank you for coming, etc. Some parents lingered a little longer to chat, some whisked their kids away in a hurry. We all communicated something specific about ourselves and our children. I am in a hurry because we have another engagement; our child is very popular. I have time to kill and feel like talking; I’ll linger a little longer and tell you the great things about us. I am late because my job kept me; I am very busy! I am relaxed and welcoming; hey, don’t worry about it.
Each interaction is the Story of Us; a tale of the family that we want others to not so much know about us, but to believe about us. We embellish. The Stories of Us is us at our best. It is our domestic fairy tale.
Every time I have one these interactions, I walk away feeling like a failure. My kids are often rude and unhelpful. I have to remind them to say “please” and “thank you” all the time. They are picky eaters. They pick on each other. They do not like sports.
I am not nearly as good at this parenting as this guy!
That is when I have to remind myself, “Jen, you get to choose.” I get to decide if that way of parenting is the “right” way, or if I am OK doing it my way. I decide to self-flagellate or not. We don’t just get told what we are doing is wrong. The final decision comes down to us. We either agree with them or we don’t. We decide.
We write our own story.
Yoga teaches us that power is not just forceful dominance. It is also receptive yielding. Accepting oneself is an act of yielding. It is often uncomfortable. Being able to sit in that discomfort is brave. It is also the source of acceptance.
As you head out to teach your classes make a brave choice to never, ever compare yourself to other teachers. Write “I Choose THIS!” this on the cover of a teaching notebook and fill that book with what it means to be a good teacher, what you need to do to make that a reality and what your next steps will be. Sit down after each teaching experience and figure out what worked and what you will do differently next time. Be honest with yourself, be critical and always write “next time I will…” Make sure you leave that door open. And never, ever compare your work to someone else’s. Unfollow your peers on social networks for a while if you find that you are getting too distracted by their stories. Go into your own experience and trust that your story is worth telling too.
Video Games & Philosophy
I picked up my son yesterday from a sleepover and he was strangely content. Usually when I pick him up after a sleepover he is a grumpy, overtired, hungry train wreck. But yesterday he was calm, happy, introspective. He said to me, “You know, right now I don’t want anything. I don’t need anything. I am fine. It’s such a strange feeling. I’ve never felt this way before.”
The sarcastic adult in me said to itself “Wait five minutes kid, it’ll pass.”
Thankfully, I kept my mouth shut because he went on talking. He talked about how we’re all the same, that basically nothing separates us; we’re all the same particles of space dust, a further iteration of the Big Bang, and that the only thing that separates us from each other is thought.
For an armchair philosopher such as myself, it was glorious. He went on to talk about these videos he watched about a video game (he is obsessed with video games and videos about video games). In this game, a robot gains sentience. He endures slavery and prejudice, grapples with free will and emotions, has to choose between right and wrong, etc. When I asked him, “wait, this is a video game?” he confirmed that yes, it is a video game and it hasn’t come out yet, but he can’t wait to play it.
A video game does that?
I was shocked!
Screens are the bane of my parenting life. I hate, I mean really deeply, hate video games. My kids would spend all day, every day on screens if I let them. But, screens make them moody zombies. Screens turn them into these creatures addicted to instant gratification. After playing games, they can’t do anything on their own. They just mull around waiting for something to stimulate them.
Yet, this game had this weird effect on my kiddo. He’s calm, introspective, thoughtful. Because of these videos, we had an amazing conversation about Descartes and the nature of consciousness.
We connected because of a video about a video game about sentience. And he can’t wait to play it.
Wow.
We often think that this way of doing something is bad or that way isn’t “the way” and yet… beauty can come out of anything.
Even a video game.
This is something I have to remind myself of constantly. The thing I think I know, the thing I think is right is only a perspective. We really have no idea. There is no one way of doing anything. There are ways. They either work for us or they work against us. And what that “thing” is, is up to us to decide individually.
Just something to think about on your way to your day today.
Practice Selfishly
I recently read an NPR article re the first government agency dedicated to the health and wellbeing of children. There is a line "women..., arguing to lawmakers that children are a national resource, and that if America's leaders didn't soon do something to help the next generation thrive, the future of the still-young country was at risk."
This idea - that people are a national resource - has stuck in my brain. A resource is a stock supply of something you draw upon to function well. It is always positive. That is why healthy, well cared for people create stable, healthy communities. They create great ideas. They innovate and elevate. Taking care of us is an imperative to creating a great nation.
Yet, taking care of each other is often reduced to an economic argument; I either believe in spending money to help others or I am against spending money on others. Simplifying the argument this way is reductive. It is also destructive. It ignores the actual, physical, mental and emotional benefits to oneself when we take care of each other. Ensuring our neighbors have clean, safe drinking water, access to health care and education, adequate support for joblessness, homelessness and hunger, means we are also improving our own lives. It decreases communicable diseases and infestations, social isolation, and improves public safety. Our lives improve despite the fact that we have less money.
The same can be said for our personal lives. When we believe our self-worth is linked to our financial status, we are over simplifying. We fail to take into consideration our need for expression, connection, play. We limit our ability to be resourceful, creative and engaged.
And while this may seem perfectly obvious, it is often forgotten when it comes to our efforts as a yoga teacher. Because, let’s be honest, teaching yoga is not always lucrative. Especially when we are just getting started.
So why do it? I mean, I took that training because I hate my job. I want to change my career, I want to be able to do this professionally!
Because, while I know we all need to make a living to pay the rent, doing something you love doesn’t have to be lucrative to be worth it. Tying your teaching success to your economics is too reductive. It thwarts your chances for future success. It keeps you from seeing a class of two people as an opportunity. You will walk into that class and think “only two people showed up, damn.” Instead of, “Oh wow - TWO WHOLE PEOPLE showed up! What a gift!”
Every opportunity to teach is a chance to build up your resources. Every teaching moment is a chance for you to practice honing your craft. It may not be lucrative, but it is rich with opportunity.
As you start teaching, think of your efforts like your yoga practice. Effort is not wasted. You need the practice. And practicing is a selfish endeavor. You practice for you. You practice learning, to become better skilled, more acquainted with yourself. You practice filling the tank. As the tank fills, you will have more resources to grow your business.
Yoga teaches us that momentary experiences are transient, that initial perception are often wrong, that loving oneself is an act of faith and determination, and that all of life is changeable. Learning these lessons over and over again as a teacher moves us from the selfish act of practice to the self-less act of sharing. Learning these lessons over and over again make us better teachers and being better teachers means we will be better suited for a life of teaching.
Do not cut out before you get a chance to cut your teeth ;)
I hope this helps. Feel free to below with your thoughts.