I was co-teaching with another local yoga teacher a couple of months ago. We had planned a free workshop to promote body inclusivity in yoga - she was doing modifications of traditional asanas, and I was doing somatics for pain management. I thought we had a great line-up, but I hadn’t thought through the realities of collaborating with someone. In retrospect, I should have been more careful about assessing whether our backgrounds matched and how our personalities would gel. I taught first, and then she reset the room for her session which I stayed to participate in. It was a great class, really innovative. But I was taken aback when she started by saying, now we don’t all need to be as eloquent as Francesca using all those long words, it’s ok to just be simple and not over-complicate things.
Honestly, it felt like nothing so much as being back at school with the bullies.
The irony, of course, was that my fellow teacher was making a point about inclusivity, that everyone is welcome in a movement practice and you don’t need a certain level of education to belong. Quite right. And yet, in so doing she revealed her own prejudices, her belief that her own simplicity of speech was superior, in some way, to my own (I admit) verbose style.
It hurt. Because this was an event I had created, done the admin for, made happen. And I had expected mutual respect. I learned to think more carefully about who I collaborate with in future and to make sure our visions match.
But I also noticed that I was angry and hurt by her words, rather than anxious and self-critical. Past me would have left with a gnawing worry that perhaps I was a bad teacher, that I had been ‘found out’, that I needed to dramatically change my teaching style. Whereas present day me can acknowledge that, actually, this IS me being authentic, it’s how I think and how I speak. So that’s how I teach. Some people like my style, some people find it isn’t for them. That’s fine. I’m not saying there isn’t value in thinking about reducing my constant chatter on the mat - for some practices I think it is essential, I barely speak during yin. But we each need to be more ourselves, not less, when we turn up to teach, or to write.
Worrying about how our words will be received is the absolute enemy of confidence and flow. Whether it’s second guessing yourself on the mat, analysing the faces of the participants for signs of enjoyment or disgruntlement, or trying to write something you don’t really have a clear sense of yet as though it was going to the editors tomorrow - to find ease in a practice we need to put aside concerns about the end product and the judgment of others, and just find our voice. The best way to move forward with this that I’ve found is to practice being as wild, free, and spontaneous as possible. Once you have played, really played, with any art form or movement style, you can find far greater ease and control when you return to its formal structures.
This month’s theme for Slow Writers is ‘Flow’ and is all about finding that playful, spontaneous relationship with words again. You are welcome to join us on Thursday night this week for a live creativity session from 7pm BST. We start by checking in with our writing over the past month, and then I offer prompts and exercises on the theme for around an hour. For the rest of the month I post my own writing and follow-on prompts to stay connected. Head over to The Slow Writers Club to subscribe now.
How about you, how do you find your flow and what builds your confidence in your own practice?
Wow, that was an incredibly rude thing to say. And congratulations for not taking it on board in the way you would have done before 🧡