I taught my third yoga class to my parents this week. It's going surprisingly well. They are really open to instruction, and the improvement in my Dad's strength, flexibility and posture is already noticeable.
The teaching has sort of swept over me. Even though it's just my kitchen, the room where I spend most of my days, I still try to make it studio-like. I play music, light candles and burn incense. My soothing but confident instructions surprise me. It's not even like interacting with my parents. They are the students and I am the teacher, and that's our dynamic during class. A weird role reversal, but it totally works for the hour and a half.
As I pop up to change the CD, modify a pose to fit their abilities, or make a gentle adjustment to one of their asanas, I realize something that I should have known: I can totally do this teaching stuff. I'm made for it.
I guess I'm glad to be back at it. I think I see an actual class of Adapted Yoga for Beginners approaching me at breakneck speed. I already have about 10 interested potential students with varying degrees of disability.
Nothing like starting out with the challenges.
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