The space for my yoga for children teacher training was this beautifully pastel colored room, with huge white cushions and transparent curtains moving to the autumnal breeze and blue, pink and purple mats on the wooden floor.
Sat in a circle, we listened for hours to our teacher, a wise woman that knows how to meet the children in a safe and caring way, while she explained in details how to share the yoga with them. We spoke a lot about asanas – postures – of course. But that was not the only important part. She held a spiritual space for me and the other five students. She showed us how to be committed and connected and she prepared us to become beacons of light – ready to reach even the smallest members of our communities.
It was a sacred space for learning. We talked a lot. We shared a lot – very personal stuff too. We cried a lot. Daily yoga, meditation, and kriyas open your mind like never before. We laughed in cat-cow pose while mooing like cows and meowing like kittens. We cried a lot (did I say it already? well, it was a lot of tears). We drank liters of herbal infusions, holding on the cup with open wide hands. We put ourselves in turn into feeling like young children – to be that small girl we once were. Again and again. We laughed together freely and with all our bodies (right, Roger?). I felt safe. I felt vulnerable. I felt immensely happy. I felt broken and humbled. I was tired in my legs and arms and in parts of my body that hadn’t noticed before.
Sometimes I felt scared of the sheer quantity and quality of the learning I took upon my shoulders. I tasted the worry before the several exams, both practical and theoretical, that we had to pass. I faced that teenager I once had been, before the school test, the adrenaline peak and the action and then the sweet peace of a test done and passed.
This particular branch of yoga for children is based on Kundalini Yoga as taught by Yogi Bhajan and the Montessori method.
It was a good opportunity for me to face my insecurities and limiting beliefs, to overcome the urge to compare myself to the others – I am the least experienced one, one of the youngest, I am no good at this, who am I kidding? But I felt radiant and alive and synchronicity came to me effortlessly, as rarely before (isn’t it true, sweet BFF LouLou?).
You are strong, you are capable, said Lucy to me on the last day during a collective meditation, without speaking any word or making any sound – and it was one of the most powerful personal messages I received during the training. It will stay with me for a long time.
Each one of these women accepted me as I am, and showed to the group their real self with courage and integrity – like little precious stone of their souls.
Chelo’s honesty and laugh was the color of the sand in a wintry seaside and Jacky’s voice was smooth and welcoming like a light pink cotton blanket.
Siri Arti, our teacher, had the presence of a goddess and a defined, solid structure in her inner posture, naturally protecting the space for our learning like a bear mother with her cubs.
“The task of the educator lies in seeing that the child does not confound good with immobility and evil with activity.”
I never really dreamed of becoming a yoga teacher. Especially a yoga teacher for children. As you know I have two, and I thought that was pretty much all the children I could handle.
P.S. I did my Yoga Teacher Training in London UK with StarChild Yoga. I am forever grateful to Siri Arti for her kindness, integrity and wisdom. And for welcoming Eleonora into the circle!