I’m a Yoga Teacher Now
by Jennie Rose Halperin
It was in an Instagram post that I saw a muted green background overlaid with a collage of beautiful white women practicing yoga and meditating. Below it, an advertisement for a yoga teacher certification on the beach in Mexico. It cost about a third of the price of a similar training in the U.S. and I was headed for that part of Mexico anyway, so I signed up.
Soon I received the 50-hour self-study portion of the course via email and started to look forward to two weeks of full-time stretching on the beach, capped with a useful credential at the end. Most of the curriculum seemed fine, if a little woo-y: there was a section focused on making a shrine at home, and another on looking intently at a candle. In “Journalling through the Chakras” we were encouraged to answer the prompt: “How do you know everything is going to be okay?”
“The first noble truth is accepting that life is suffering and is not going to be okay. What kind of stupid question is that?” I responded in my journal. I was doing great already.
Even though I’ve practiced yoga and meditation regularly for more than fifteen years, I am still physically inflexible, fidgety, and overly analytical. I find astrology, reiki, crystals, sound healing, and the theory of chakras (the seven “energy centers” located along the human spine) to be highly questionable. I will not chant in bad Sanskrit, I will not ever utter the phrase “may all beings be at peace,” and I refuse to read Rumi. Still, ever since I walked into a tiny suburban studio at 22, began to learn how to stretch, and felt my back pain dissolve, I’ve wanted to become a yoga teacher. Daily stretching and meditation have made a major difference in my life; I love teaching, I love the postures, and I love helping people.
Keep us breathing fire!
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