45 Minute Practicum

One of our assignments for this month is to teach a 45 minutes class to 2 people in our community.  A class of our own design.  When we go back next weekend, we will teach that same class to one of our fellow students.  The class will end using systematic relaxation to sink deeper into shivasana.

 

This is made slightly complicated by the fact that we are supposed to focus the class on the asanas we worked on in depth the first weekend – mountain, pyramid, staff, forward fold, tree, and wide angle forward fold.  Yoga North is interesting in that they focus heavily on therapeutic yoga, somatics (more on that later), and cueing from the center, whereas much American yoga cues from the periphery (arms, legs, etc).

 

It is actually pretty amazing to approach yoga from this angle.  I feel like I am being asked to view something familiar through a backwards mirror, so suddenly elements of the basic structure and foundation I have never noticed before become visible.  The first weekend of training, the asana practices we did were absolute beginner yoga classes – and it was an amazing, but strange experience.  I’ll talk more about that later, too.

 

When I first tried to design my practicum class, I felt paralyzed by the fear of doing it “wrong.”  It took me a week or 2 to relax and remember that in the end, I can only teach from my own experience.  And my experience is always changing.

 

Anyways, the basic sequence/class I have designed for my practicum is as follows.

 

-invitation to come to mats

-centering

-close eyes

-scan body, cultivate curiosity, non-judgmental awareness

-let all be exactly as it is

-heart center – – how willing are you to give and receive love today?

-lay down – feet flat on floor (constructive rest position)

-observe breath

-observe pelvis

-spinal flex/flatten

-knee circles small and large

-sacral rocking (knees to chest)

-come to sit

-seated side release

-seated easy twist

-seated chest opener

-tabletop

-cat/cow

-wagging the tail

-threading the needle

-tabletop

-puppy stretch

-tabletop

-downdog

-mountain

-empty coat sleeves

-breath of joy

-mountain

-forward fold with arm variations

-flat back

-forward fold

-mountain

-squat

-tree

-mountain

-wide angle forward fold with shoulder release

-mountain

-squat

-pyramid

-mountain

-forward fold

-down dog

-child’s pose

-staff

-seated forward fold

-bound angle

-child’s pose

-shivasana with systematic relaxation

 

I’ve run through this a few times, and I keep waffling on whether I should throw in some warrior 2’s and goddess squats.  I’m trying to focus on what we’ve covered so far in training, while staying true to my own experience, and designing a sequence that I enjoy.

 

 

 

untitled 10/30/13

My tongue feels like it’s been glued to the roof of my mouth and every time I turn to my journal I think “I don’t want to, I don’t want to . . .” over and over like a mantra.  This new job gives me time to read, to write, to catch up on homework, but all too often I let my eyes glaze over as I look at buyable thing after buyable thing on-line.

 

My uterus rises up above my belly button and the son inside me flips and turns, kicks and cartwheels with surprising regularity.  This one, it seems, has a very clearly defined schedule already.

 

My alarm goes off at 6 a.m. each morning but I hit snooze until 6:45.  I do my morning rituals, some part of me marveling at what it is like to wake up in the dark, as if I’ve never lived a MN winter before.  Each day it is the same – pee, oil pull, tongue scrape, brush teeth, wash face.  Then 10 minutes of asanas.  Cook breakfast, heat water to mix with lemon juice, pack lunch (which becomes Second Breakfast nearly every day).  Take Prozac, Klonipin, cod liver oil.

 

These things become a habit, these things that must be done.

water takes forever

 

water takes forever

to boil on this new stove

but vegetables

and meats

scald to pan bottoms in seconds.

 

rose petals and raspberry leaves,

i pace the kitchen,

listen to my daughter chatter in the other room.

 

raspberry tones the uterus.

 

it is hard for me to wait until things are ready.

i drink the sweet red tea too hot,

and gladly agree to an early ultrasound –

tracing the profile of this new child

with nervous eyes.

Cushion Me

The longer I am pregnant, the more naked I become.

All my life, I have been a jeans girl.  Low rise, bell bottomed, vintage finds.  The endless racks of Ragstock, Savers.  I like them tight.  “Ass pants” T. and I called them; designed to show off the hours I have spent moving from down dog to low lunge, high lunge, warrior 2.

The longer I am pregnant, the more naked I become.

All my life I’ve been a shoe girl.  Platforms, fur boots, psychobilly heels.  “Zombie Stompers” and pistol-print Mary Janes.

The longer I am pregnant, the more naked I become.

I start wearing harem pants, blousy tank tops, Vibram toe shoes that turn my feet to Hobbit feet.  My online purchases veer from pin-up style dresses and “Cunt Dracula” boyshorts to wideleg yoga pants and loosefit pullovers.  My belly begins to round and swell outward, my breasts spill out of my bras, strain against t-shirts.

I roam the virtual aisles almost mindlessly each night, looking for the perfect shell to cushion this egg that my body has become.

untitled

The first night of yoga teacher training, I come back to the house we are staying at, put on my pajamas, and cry.

I feel frayed.  Full time student, part time job, full time mother, pregnant, and now this.  One.  More.  Thing.

When you push and push and plan and schedule and make the time everything becomes “one more thing.”

It’s not that I’m not pleased with the program, not that I don’t want to do it.

After a 3 hour drive and a 9 hour day, I am exhausted, and I collapse into sleep.