So often we think about wisdom being associated with old
age, and it is, but not exclusively.
After teaching a six week yoga series for ages three through nine, I
have evidence that the ten and under crowd have some wisdom of their own to
bestow. It is important to note that I
also teach adults yoga twice a week, so by comparison I can say we grown people
have a lot to learn from the little folks.
In adult yoga class, we try not to fall, in fact many adults
are so intimidated by falling when teetering in tree, they prematurely step
out. Not it kids class, if they fall to
the ground, they simply rename their pose. “That was toppling tree.” “Hey, let’s all do falling tree pose!” These
are declarations I’ve heard as half a dozen little ones fling themselves to the
floor with glee! I’m not sure that would fly in adult class,
but I would love to try it next April Fool’s Day, just to revel in the looks of
horror it would probably illicit. But
honestly, how do we expect we can try new poses and take on new challenges
without the occasional slip? Children
are well schooled in this truth. They
embrace it. If one child falls in a kid’s
class, I bet you 10 to 1 that of the remaining kids still standing, over half
of them will fall, just because it looks like fun. The odds of that are not so good in a grown
up class. Little ones teach us that
falling is not failing. In fact it
means, I tried really hard and I didn’t hold back. I can laugh at my attempt and try it once
more. This playful nature of not judging our practice is something adult yogis
often need to be reminded of by their instructors. So much so that the line, “Notice, but don’t
judge,” is a phrase you’ll hear in many grown up classes more often than not.
 |
| Falling can change your perspective... |
 |
| ...and even improve your view! |
Have you ever been asked to chant, sing, or even audibly
sigh or breathe in your adult yoga class?
Did you feel slightly self-conscious?
This is an area where little people can help you! Stick out your tongue, roar like a lion, pant
like a dog, moo like a cow; they are up for all of it! In addition, they will do it with such volume
that it is sure to shake the walls of the studio, and you will marvel at the
fact that it did not disrupt the adult class going on across the hall where
they were trying to noiselessly jump to the top of their mats during vinyasa
flow!
As a teacher of adults, the request to leave your mat and
find a wall, or go to the ropes, or grab some extra props; often results in
looks of confusion, bewilderment or even fear on the faces of some of my
grown-up students. Leave my mat? My safe place? How can I drift from my preferred location in
this class and still feel safe? In fact,
these are not just the thoughts I read on my adult students’ faces, but the
thoughts that echo through my own mind, when I’m taking class and a teacher
asks me to practice off my mat. I get it! This is your home base, your space, your
happy place… why would you want to leave it?
In a kid’s class, good luck keeping them on their mats! You might manage that for a few poses, but
then the three year old is likely to take up residence on her friend’s
mat. Here they will likely lie down and
look into each other’s eyes and start a giggle fest. Meanwhile the four year old, has rolled
himself up in his mat, burrito style.
The five year old is racing around the room, leaping from mat to mat, Frogger
style. The six and seven year-olds are
attempting a version of the pose you taught that also involves falling down and
laughing. The eight and nine year-olds are still trying to meticulously
recreate the pose that was just presented and they are asking for feedback. “Am I doing this right?” From this seeming chaos, we can glean
insight. We often feel most comfortable
learning new things with friends. Minus
a friend, we might embark on a path to self-reflection (rolling yourself up in
your mat…). As we gain confidence, we
feel comfortable pushing the boundaries (stepping off the mat or falling down
just for fun). As we progress, we look
for subtle adjustment in our poses, mirroring our teacher as closely as
possible.
Young people have many lessons we can learn. Among them; not judging ourselves, having fun
in our practice, not fearing failure, laughing for no apparent reason, trying
new things (no matter how ridiculous they may seem at first), and most
important being 100% present in the moment.
With our practice shifting from movement, to games, to play based
inquiry, to arts and crafts, to more games and movement, then to stories, songs
and relaxation; in our hour of practice the furthest any child got from the
present moment was to ask to show their mommy their pose or to have some
yogurt. All the encouragement they
needed to set aside these concerns were, “We’ll show mommy, right after class,
but now we are going to play this fun game!” or “You’ve been very active, so of
course you are hungry. Now we will do a
resting and relaxing pose and you can ask daddy for a snack after class.” As
adults, it is often much more difficult to set aside our concerns in favor of
being present for our practice.
There is so much we can learn from children. Often we think of ourselves as the
teacher. Whether you are a parent, a
relative, or a friend of a young person; next time you have the pleasure of a
child’s company, ask yourself what you can learn from them. Sure you may offer a story, a lap on which to
sit, an insight into our world, but how can you grow from this
interaction? Learning is a lifelong
process and it goes both ways. We can
learn from our elders and our youngsters.
As we open our minds to our teachers in life, we will find they come in
all ages. May your learning be diverse
and from many sources. The richest
lessons come at various stages of our lives, from multiple teachers, during our
most susceptible moments. Be open to the
lessons the universe has for you, and the unassuming forms your teachers may
take.
