Day two, what what!
The other night I went to a yoga class for the first time in over a year. I inadvertently ended up the beginner class, which is no big deal, except that my teacher was a beginner too. As in, this may have been his first class ever. He was from Venezuela and had a soothing, purring accent that was sort of hard to understand. He spent the first ten minutes of class talking about yoga. Then he led us in some warm ups that I’m fairly positive were rooted in jazz dance. For the rest of the hour he went back and forth between very very simple and very very advanced positions. He’d go from a mellow strech a la ‘Sit And Be Fit’ and then very gently instruct us to turn that posture upside-down, balance on one hand, and stick our heads between our legs- or something to that effect. When he came around and saw I was having trouble, he purred “yes, this pose can be uncomfortable.” I think he basically taught us his own daily yoga routine, but tried to dumb it down for us dummies.
BTW, OMG! TGIF! I mean, TGITh. Cuz I definitely wrote this on Thursday. Yessiree.
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I have had this exact same experience in a Yoga class, years ago. My teacher was an American, and kept going, “um, what should we do now…um…ok, let’s try this one” with no lesson plan whatsoever. And then he would take us in crazy advanced positions with no preparation whatsoever. I vowed that if he was ever teaching or subbing a class I would otherwise take, I would walk right out. Good think I stopped doing yoga!
Oh man, I feel you. You know how angry bad yoga teachers make me!