If a website falls in the forest….will students still come to class?

Last week the website went down. Lots of you probably noticed. Something went sideways when I tried to install a new webmail portal through my webhost, and the site went “poof.” What shouldn’t surprise me but did was how flummoxed my web host tech support team were. What didn’t surprise me one bit was my own initially overwrought response. Just shy of full on panic, my fear had something to do with the misguided assumption that with no working website, nobody would show up to class—like a confused philosophical thought experiment (see title). It took me a day and a half to simply calm down, walk away, and admit there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. As it usually is, letting go was liberating. Eventually things were fine. And, once I ceded control of the situation I could feel again the smooth river of my breath, and feel ease and connection in my body and mind. Events beyond our control are—like pain and injury—both (mostly) inevitable and also opportunities for continued growth and self awareness, and self-awareness is where it’s at, at least for this yoga instructor.In order for the brain to be able to rest in profound states of meditation, we have to develop the skill of absorption, and an abiding, pervasive awareness. We cannot do that if we are constantly churning with worry and stress.As a yoga practitioner, I’m increasingly interested in the somatic experience of stress—what happens in our bodymind when things go south. This examination of how stress shows up in the body is a laboratory for developing the skill of yoga and for sharing it with others. Life gives us ample opportunity to study the mind and body connection. To yoga teachers, this is fascinating territory.Yoga teachers do most of their learning long after their first teacher training. Life ripens us with its bruises and its joys. Maturity lets yoga in. We find our teachers. We live. We find our teachers again.In this evolution and maturation, those of us who do this for years, decades, more—we go back again and again to learn and relearn, from each other, from innovators, from deep thinkers and practitioners. It’s continuing education in every sense. And really, what profession doesn’t ask that of its practitioners?So, I learn yoga daily in my practice and in planning classes and in helping students problem solve and in turning a questioning eye toward my own injuries and other experiences that are written in my body, but I also try to steal time away to learn from other seasoned, wise teachers. To be a student again. To see the practice anew with beginner’s eyes. I expect to do this my whole life. Not because I hunger for mastery, but because I am compelled by mystery. While mastery (of a pose, of a sequence) can be alluring, especially in the beginning, ultimately, it just isn’t that interesting. Continuing education for me is the more pressing questions: what now? What next? What else?I will be going to Santa Fe for the month of June to study with Tias and Surya Little of Prajna Yoga—both accomplished teachers, writers, thinkers, innovators in the field of yoga and other contemplative practices.I look forward to a deep and immersive learning experience, and I look forward to sharing what I learn.The site is back up. I thank you for all the emails and voicemails, and apologize for any inconvenience this might have caused you. As noted below, we have lots of very cool additions to the schedule and the teaching roster. Some in May, some in June. The studio is alive and well and as always, we welcome everyone.Much love,Leslie