Change Your Perspective

Recently I attended a Kid’s Yoga Teacher Training at Asheville Yoga Center in Asheville, North Carolina.  A lot of topics were discussed over the course of the training, but one topic that continued to make an appearance in our conversations was about the pressure that children feel from being ever connected to the world of social media, how they believe they must respond immediately when their phone buzzes, and how as a whole, they spend most of their  daylight hours in front of a screen and less and less time outdoors.  JaneAnne Tager, led the discussions and emphasized the importance of using nature themes in our classes as a way for children to disconnect, leave the world of technology behind, and become more grounded using tools found in nature.  

One morning at the beginning of class, we were instructed to go on a short walk, find a leaf and bring it back to class.  I believe the point of the exercise was to help us get out of our heads and find a connection with the universe, returning to class more grounded than when we left. As I walked out the door of the studio, I imagined being on a treasure hunt, looking for the perfect leaf—the one that spoke to me; the one that calmed and soothed me.  Being early September in North Carolina, however, the temperature was still peaking in the eighties and nineties during the day.  The leaves had not yet started to change color and the only leaves on the ground were small and lifeless.  Feeling uninspired, I continued to walk further and further away from the studio.  I began to feel desperate.

“Finding a leaf should not be this difficult, I thought.  Why do you always make everything so complicated?  Just pick up a damn leaf and be done with it!”  And just as I was about to listen to that little voice inside my head, another voice spoke.  This one said, “Why are you only looking at the ground?  Look up!”  Obediently, I turned my gaze toward the sky and that’s when I saw it.

With it’s long, slender, bean-like fruit, I recognized it right away.  Magnificent in size and stature, it dwarfed all the trees around it, offering a canopy of protection with it’s abundance of large, over-sized leaves.  It was the exact same tree that stood in my front yard as a child!  

As I approached the tree, I noticed two shopping carts full of possessions parked under it’s shelter.  The owners were not home so I carefully proceeded to the tree and plucked a single leaf from a low hanging branch, being mindful not to disturb the refuge the tree provided for it’s occupants.

As I walked back to the classroom, I felt humbled.  I have not seen a tree like that since the day my dad had it removed, deeming it undesirable, along with all the mulberry trees that dropped their gifts in the yard staining our feet as we played in the grass.  What are the odds that just as I was about to give up on finding a leaf that I felt a personal connection to, that a Catalpa tree would appear before me?  

I was the last person to return to the classroom and felt a tad bit conscientious knowing all eyes were on me.  The room was silent except for an audible *gasp* that could be heard as I laid my elephantine leaf to rest alongside the treasures that everyone else had gathered on their journey. In the center of the space with our mats spread like spokes on a wheel, the flora and fauna resembled and offering on an alter.

I’ve been thinking about that moment a lot since it happened and wondering how much of my life I’ve spent looking at the ground, not making a connection with anyone or anything around me, when what I was looking for was right in front of me all along.

If you can’t find what you're looking for…CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE!  

At the beginning of the training, Jane Anne stated that one of the goals of the weekend was to help us become reacquainted with our inner child.   With each exercise, I found myself being transported back to my childhood, a time in my life that was filled with happy memories, uncomplicated and innocent.  While this was not intentional, I also do not think it was a coincidence.  I finished the training feeling more grounded than I have in several months and freshly inspired to be the best mom, wife, and yoga teacher I can be, to make a difference in the lives of children who may not have as happy a childhood as me, and to write.  This is the third of a three-part blog post.

Two bucks a day

Recently I attended Kid’s Yoga Teacher Training at Asheville Yoga Center in Asheville, North Carolina.  A lot of topics were discussed over the course of the training, but one topic that continued to make an appearance in our conversations was about the pressure that children feel from being ever connected to the world of social media, how they believe they must respond immediately when their phone buzzes, and how as a whole, they spend most of their daylight hours in front of a screen and less and less time outdoors.  JaneAnne Tager, led the discussions and emphasized the importance of using nature themes in our classes as a way for children to disconnect, leave technology at the door, and become more grounded using tools found in mother nature. 

We began the four day training in typical fashion with an ice breaker activity, going around the room making introductions.  But after stating our name and where we were from, the information we were asked to share was a bit more atypical.  We were asked to recount a “memorable time in nature” and then state one word to describe the event.

As a side note:  I struggle with any activity where I feel pressure to speak in front of a large group of people.  When I’ve never met the people, the stress is even greater.   I often spend the entire time trying to think of something clever to say for the inevitable moment when the baton will be passed to me, which leaves me unable to listen to what is being said by the other participants.  And while this activity was no different in terms of what it was trying to accomplish, this time I knew immediately and without hesitation what “memorable event in nature” I would be able to share with the group.

People described canoeing on lazy rivers, hiking in exotic places, the delicious reward of mushroom hunting, experiencing a herd of migrating caribou in the Alaskan wilderness and climbing Half-Dome.  They used words like:  calm, majestic, humble, and serene to illustrate their experiences.

When it was my turn, I recalled an event from my childhood.  I was eight years old when my grandparents took me with them on their annual fishing trip to Canada.

One afternoon, midway through the week, we were out on the river in our small, fiberglass boat. Without warning, the skies turned black as storm clouds rolled in.  Lightening began to crackle and flash and rain poured down on us filling the boat.  My grandfather worked furiously to start the engine, but received nothing but silence for his efforts.

This man, who I absolutely adored, had a really bad two buck a day habit. He believed that $2 worth of gas would still get him just as far in the 1970’s, as it did in the sixties, as it did in the fifties.  He ended up walking a lot.  But on this particular day he was not on dry land and my grandmother became hysterical under the circumstances.

On board, he had an oar…not a paddle, an oar—for a row boat.  But since we were not in a row boat, he used the oar to paddle the boat like a canoe.  Only we weren’t in a canoe.  We were in a boat much wider than a canoe. So he had to stand.  He paddled furiously on one side and then switched to the other side, making progress in inches.  
  

We were not close to shore.  His hysterical wife frantically bailed water from the boat using an old coffee can, that had once held the worms all while his grand-daughter sobbed.  And somehow, paddling, paddling, paddling he managed to get us safely to shore.  

We were back out on the river the next day, probably with another $2 worth of gas in the tank.

Nature and me—me and nature.  We have a tenuous relationship at best.

My name is FAWN and my word is FEAR.

At the beginning of the training, JaneAnne stated that one of the goals of the weekend was to help us become reacquainted with our inner child.   With each exercise, I found myself being transported back to my childhood, a time in my life that was filled with happy memories, uncomplicated and innocent.  While this was not intentional, I also do not think it was a coincidence.  I finished the training feeling more grounded than I have in several months and freshly inspired to be the best mom, wife, and yoga teacher I can be, to make a difference in the lives of children who may not have as happy a childhood as me, and to write.  This is the first blog post of a three-part series.