From student to teacher: Megh's Story
Many people consider yoga teacher training without being sure if they’re “ready.” After exploring trainings that didn’t fully click, Megh found her way to Yoga Baum.
This is her story, in her own words.
On this grey February day, as I read the Bhagavad Gita for the seventh or maybe even the eighth time, I started reminiscing on the twists and turns that led me here.
Like many people, I came to yoga when something was wrong. Instead of back pain, I began yoga because of a broken heart. I was 17 and just had my first relationship end, and I was miserable. My mom had bought a VHS tape of a woman in a skintight white leotard, who instead of telling me to stand up straight used a complicated sounding word. So for 30 minutes, I would practice tadasana (standing mountain), virabhadrasana (warrior) one and two, garudasana (eagle) on both sides, and my favorite, sarvangasana (shoulder stand).
I was hooked, and like a new acolyte, I wanted to know more. At Goodwill I found a book that I still have. If my VHS tape was very 1990s, this book was right out of the 70s, with all the glory of wild hair, wild makeup, white leotards (why!?!) and some questionable touching of the models.
It wasn’t until college that I took a yoga class. In fact, I still remember my very first down dog. I hated it. It was too hard and we were in it for too long. But somehow by the end of the class it was something that I wanted to do every day.
But I didn’t. I wanted to, but it seemed that something else took precedence. I had an exam to study for, a project to finish, a paper to write. Later, my excuses were I was too tired for work, the dishes needed to be done, I had to go to the grocery.
It wasn’t until I moved to the Highlands and walked by a new fitness studio that had just opened that I took another yoga class. I was part of a community. I felt like I belonged, and most importantly I had a yoga teacher that I loved. Finally, I had a consistent practice and I grew stronger and more confident in my body. On a whim, I talked to my teacher about teaching yoga.
I honestly never thought that I would be a yoga teacher. Growing up I was certain that I would be an anthropologist or a writer. Later, it was a photographer, or maybe an elementary school teacher. Yoga was something that I would do certainly, but as a nameless, faceless body, far in the back of class.
When I asked about becoming a teacher, I kind of expected her to laugh, maybe to say that I wasn’t ready, that I didn’t know enough. Maybe I didn’t have the right personality or the right body type. Maybe I was too old, too inflexible, too short, too who knows what. Instead, she looked me in the eyes and said, “Good, the world needs more yoga teachers.” And that was that.
In Japan, there is a concept of Ikigai. Simply stated, Ikigai translates to “reason to live” and consists of four major elements: what you love, what you are good at, what the world needs, and what you will be paid for. And finally, at 32, I found my Ikigai. It was like my whole life was coming together, my path sharpening into focus. My time as a drama major was where I learned to modulate my voice and to speak from the diaphragm. My time as a writer gave me insights into poetic cues, useful analogies, and original meditations. Things were coming together for me, and all I needed was to join a training.
So, I did.
My first training was not at all what I expected. For starters, I was new to the studio and felt very much like an outsider. For a weekend a month, I sat on the floor listening to someone read from their notes about concepts and philosophies that it didn’t seem like they understood. We did some movement, and there were the physical elements of practice, but no hands-on practice teaching. And then we were off for another month.
I was disheartened and dreading the next weekend. This was not what I wanted.
So, I did what any other millennial, with a short attention span and immediate gratification fixation did—I found another training. Within two months I was on a plane to sunny Nicaragua, where I spent thirty intense days learning the ins and outs of poses, anatomy, philosophy, and history. I was with 60 students from Canada, Australia, and the United States. Strangers became friends, friends became family. There, with the Pacific Ocean as a constant soundtrack, I became a yoga instructor.
I came back to the States and immediately started teaching with 300 hours under my belt. Six months later I completed another 200 for a total of 500.
Roughly two years later, I finished my original teacher training.
At this point, I had met Laurie when we were both teaching at the same studio. From social media I saw that she had been leading yoga teacher trainings and, out of curiosity, peeked at what she had to offer. Mind you, I had 700 hours of learning and was feeling pretty confident with my education.
I was a kid in a candy shop.
At some drafty former church in Old Louisville, I took workshops on creating safe spaces, creative sequencing, pranayama, chakras, Ayurveda, and so much more. These sessions filled in gaps in my knowledge that I didn’t even know I had.
I spent many weekends and evenings just soaking in more and more knowledge. I looked forward to each section. I came with questions, and the answers I received were reasoned and profound. I learned verbiage to better help students who had experienced trauma, pose modifications to support pregnancy. I learned about my dosha in a much more informed way than an off-brand Buzzfeed quiz. And I learned my voice as a teacher. Up to that point, I was still relying on things that I had heard others say.
Yoga Baum is where I learned my own authenticity.
I was very lucky. I was part of the first class to practice in the new space. Bye bye to the cold, cold mornings in that drafty Old Louisville church, hello to bright, comfortable bolsters. (I’m telling you, restorative yoga became my new favorite class.) Classes were cozy and the teachers knowledgeable and supportive. I always felt like I belonged.
This studio, with its beautiful murals and brilliant instructors, has become like a second home.
It is this time of year that I start reviewing my notes, rereading philosophical texts, and preparing for the next generation of bright-eyed, enthusiastic, and maybe a little self-doubting yoga instructors.
Teacher training is starting soon. So maybe you have been floating the idea of becoming a yoga teacher. Maybe you want to learn more about the poses, or anatomy, or the stories behind the poses. Maybe the time is right and you are ready to sign up.
Because the world needs more yoga teachers.
If you’ve been considering teacher training, whether to teach or to deepen your practice, you can learn more about our upcoming training here.