Nov 2: Bagheera saved me from myself by nearly pulling off my pants

As part of YTT, we have the opportunity to lead peer group classes. I thought I’d resurrect my slow flow to restore class and thread in messaging around the Vayus, something I haven’t even whispered in a class before.

I spent a ton of time studying and creating, prepping, the works. I was so nervous and excited at the same time that I actually lapsed into a state of emotional confusion.

So I taught the class only to realize after that my mic hadn’t been connected and you could barely hear me from across the room. What could be heard though was Bagheera attacking my doors from both the hallway and the deck (she throws full punches, it’s kind of intense) and the dryer clacking away in the background.

Woof.

I was pissed. I felt terrible. Terrible because of wasting 90 minutes of my peers time. Terrible because of the hours spent preparing a class that didn’t really reached peoples ears. Terrible because I’d been hoping if it went well I’d share it with you all in this email. I could go on.

That was just the start of the downward spiral. I was no longer thinking about this class but now other mistakes I’d made. The doubt of being a teacher. The overwhelming sense of not being enough. There was an internal shit show going on as I stared blankly into the toaster while Bagheera pulled so hard on my yoga pants that she nearly took them off me.

I checked myself. Mostly thanks to Buggy’s nips. I took a big breath and left for the yoga room to find my journal.

I poured out my frustrations into the pages like venom. But then it softened and turned to honey. I wrote a header - ‘The positives of the class no one heard’ and I listed some of the kind feedback received from my peers. I wrote out the positive experience of having prepared and learned so much about the Vayus. I tooted my own horn even if I didn’t really believe it.

Gradually, I felt the shift back into the present moment.

It can be a lot. When you put 110% into something and it doesn’t exactly go to plan. Journaling was a reminder that there’s more to it than the finished product. There’s all that insanely wonderful stuff that surrounds it. It’s the creation, the learning, the experience.

Journalling can be a magical tool. It’s a wonderful thing in itself to be able to write. So my homework for you would be to grab your journal or piece of paper the next time you’re feeling out of whack. Or even when you’re over the moon. Let the pen be your translator of thoughts to words and remind yourself that you’re a fucking rockstar.