2016.09.02

Next week, I start a six month course to become a yoga teacher. Even five years ago, I would not have expected to end up here. Five years ago, I was still resisting telling people I was a teacher when they asked. I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. I wanted to make money making art. At 34, I had to admit to myself that it probably wasn’t going to happen, and, hey, it’s not so bad being a teacher.

I’ve been teaching since I was in high school. Yoga is one more skill I can add to my portfolio. My textbooks arrived yesterday, but Bringing Yoga To Life by Donna Farhi was in the library system, so I borrowed it Wednesday and finished it today. Two of my textbooks are written by Farhi, and this was a good introduction. It’s a light philosophy book, edging towards self-help–in other words, exactly the kind of thing I’ve been seeking out over the past decade of wandering. Good ideas to think about, a guide to other writers in the history of yoga, and a bit of comfort, too. I finished this book thinking, OK, yes, I can do this.