Today is the first day in my career as a yoga teacher where class was not one bit about how it should be feel as I put my teacher’s hat on, nor was it about striving for perfection in the delivery. It wasn’t about attention to details of alignment and posture, verbalizing technicalities and precision. It wasn’t about the right groove of music, nor was it about creating the impeccable flow. Today was not about the level of intensity, long hold of positions, core strength and stacking of joints. Today was not about kicking anyone’s ass, pushing anyone’s buttons or even teaching to connect with emotions to survive and cope with physical and emotional trauma.
Today, class was just an untainted and pure expression of the one thing I long to see more of out there in the world; the recognition and embodiment of how similar and interwoven we all are in essence, regardless of our gender, age, social strata, skin color, history, preferences, skills, languages we speak, religions we believe in, laws we abide by or cultures we stem from.
Today, I had the privilege to move my body and breathe breaths of beaming love and bursting laughter, alongside 30 Syrian refugee kids who genuinely displayed levels of attunement, curiosity, brilliance, strength and spirit, like I have never encountered in any of the other 2000 classes I have ever taught.
Today, was the most heartfelt and breathtaking lesson of oneness I have ever been taught, and I feel blessed.