After a mild period of hesitation, I began working with my chosen subject matter, about six weeks from the début. I began by brainstorming every possible theory and practice that could support each theme-based class. From this basic platform, I constructed sequences and drew together key points. In the process of assembling the sequences, I noted which poses needed to be work-shopped, which poses would be enhanced by partner work and which postures would be done simply based on their own merit as they related to the overall theme.

Intertwined within this process was my personal, physical experimentation. This, by far, was the most significant part of the preparation. As a result of this exploration, my own practice slowed down and I came to accept that regardless of how much I got done, it would be complete. I also began to extend the duration of my asana sessions, for up to two hours in length. Gradually, through the process of ongoing revision, the practices began to assemble themselves.

Still, I noticed that I gradually became worn down over the weekend and came home with less energy than when I left. I think some of this is to be expected. Two suggestions come to mind as to how to address waning energy. The first is practice – I could teach longer venues/workshops more often to increase my endurance (my ytt is a really good outlet for that already). The second suggestion would be to experiment with what ever that green drink is that you use. Is the recipe available to forward on?

The classes were comprised of a mixture of pranayama, meditation, theory, humor, and both active and more restful postures. Not only was this beneficial to the overall construction of the weekend, but it also allowed me to exercise different parts of my being without overtaxing any one skill set.

Another change I would make would be to increase the volume of my own voice.  I found myself dipping into a low auditory range more than once and have gotten similar feedback from students in the past. Do you have any suggestions as to how to cultivate this skill?

On another auditory note: the music (as I discussed) had both its ups and downs. Overall, the music complemented what I was doing, however, at times it pushed the class in a direction that did not resonate with what I was trying to create. I gradually learned to work with this, though it meant hovering over the mp3 player at times and drawing my attention away from the class. Overall, I’d consider using it again, selectively.

Based on my own perception and the majority of the response I received, the workshop went exceptionally well. A real highlight for me was getting to know the students, a few of whom had attended my first presentation at the Canebrake. Inwardly, I was very satisfied and felt that my abilities as a teacher really expanded as a result of this experience. I look forward to offering it again and will have the opportunity to do so in Dallas this fall.  As they say at the Yoga Barn, “Namaste Ya’ll.”

One could easily make a case for or against the roll of music in yoga practice.  On the one hand music/sound has played an intimate roll in the history of yoga (particularly in the nada and bhakti yoga traditions).  On the other hand the power of sound can unduly influence the environment and mind of the practitioner, distracting one from the immediate perceivable reality.

Without going into too many details, I have been privy to both ends of the spectrum; having experienced the acute and transformational power of sound, largely from classically based Indian genres, to having my nadies and vritties accosted by the likes of Michael Jackson, Def Leopard, and Huey Lewis.  Rock On.