When you're on, you're on & when you're not...well, you recover.

I always get slightly nervous moments before I have to teach a yoga class. Not sure why - I have been teaching something or other for the last 10 years but yoga is different. I used to write a full sequence out an hour before teaching. I would include cues and weave a theme into them depending on what I wanted to focus on. Eventually I got away from having to rehearse prior to delivering the material asana by asana. It took up so much time. And in the end I found I only stuck to it for the first couple of poses anyway and winged the rest.

Nowadays, I come to the mat and class pretty open to what I see and feel. What needs to be released or attended to, or share something I read or discovered myself. Some days are better than others. The best days are when there is this tangible connection between me and my class. I get into the energy, they get into the energy and feed off each other, and I leave feeling as if I had participated in a lengthy and strenuous practice myself.

And then there are those others days, like this morning. Despite the space (less than ideal with thick wall-to-wall carpeting, mirrors on three walls and the disruptive sound of conversations by non-yogini's and yogi's), I just couldn't seem to settle in. The room was colder than usual and the heater blew loudly into one end of the studio overpowering my whirling sufi selection. It's trance-inducing-style lost in the drone of rumbling hot air in the ducts above . Ugh...I thought. I looked at the clock more than usual, moved through a heat-building standing sequence and quickly settled into twisting dragon. Still, no connection - not even with my breath or my voice, until finally it was over. Somewhat apologetically - and probably a bit unethical - I invited my sole practitioner to attend other classes I taught in the area.

As I drove home I started to think about a spin class I attended in Santa Monica this week. The teacher, popular in her own right, was subbing the time slot. There were about 10 of us in a room of 50 bikes. It didn't seem to phase her. She started a bit late, muddled through a couple of mixtapes finally settling on a climbing theme. This continued throughout the hour-long spin. Not a seamlessly presented class but I got a great workout, burned a few calories and was better for the effort. Truth is, I enjoyed the class even though it had this haphazard vibe the entire ride. She was herself, delivering a sucessful workout and unapologetic. Not sure if she was on or off - it didn't matter. I was in my head and feeling my gluts burn. Perhaps my sole practioner was doing the same and didn't even notice the things I found distruptive. Of course I have no control over the setting - it is what it is. But I can be myself, continue on and recover. Learning to stay in the moment rather than rushing to the end no matter what else is taking place, and realizing that others are probably doing the same.