rained out

I have a phobia.

I've had this phobia since college, and for the obvious reason, i've been asked by the universe, and the deepest part of myself to overcome this phobia.  This morning I was scheduled to teach a large outdoor class at Bryant Park, a-la Yoga On The Great Lawn.  With the threat of rain, it was Y@GL redux, as the Bryant Park class was canceled, and last year i was rained out too.

whew.

This fear is of microphones, and sorta of public speaking.  Hilarious, right?  I'm a yoga teacher.  I get up in front of sometimes (what I would consider) large groups of people, and talk to them. 
Prepping for last year's angst filled class, i asked Elena Brower, who is so experienced and skilled with large group teaching (even better now, I'll bet) for some pointers and advice.  She said "mind your p's and t's cause they pop.  You must remember to cover the mic if you have to cough or clear your throat.  Chanting is ok, but don't be alarmed that you can't hear them, they can hear you.  Speak from your heart and they will FEEL you".  It was great advice, and I was so ready.

But got rained out.  whew.

In a simple google search on 'fear of microphones', something called PPF - Paralyzing Presentation Fear, also associated with just the fear of public speaking, came up.  Who knew Fear of Microphones had a diagnosis? 

Some great tips I found on www.ezinearticles.com were fairly obvious, like do some breathing techniques before a presentation.  While I no longer really  have the huge fear of public speaking when I can't catch my breath, i do generally take time before all classes I teach to get centered.  If there's time and space, I'll meditate for a few minutes.  If not, I just get quiet, review my class plan, and breathe into the space I know and trust in myself.  

The first time I taught yoga, it was during our final presentation from Teacher Training with Amy Ippoliti, circa 2002.  We each had to teach one pose to the group.  That's it, one pose.  The poses got chosen randomly by Amy, and I got Tadasana.  Easy, right?  Mountain pose; basic, easy, simple.  Even when the poses were assigned, like, weeks before the actual date of our Final Presentation,  my anxiety was huge.  I mean sweating, heart-beating-fast, near paralyzing fear just thinking about having to teach this pose in front of my 25 peers.   We had to give a brief intro of our theme, then teach the pose to the group, and I'll never forget or appreciate enough the way my peers gathered around with such glee and pride for me in their eyes while I spoke of Tadasana, the mountain, and the majestic beauty and steadiness of our core that is always present.  And then i let it rip.  I truly don't remember what came out of my mouth as I was teaching, but something shifted, and I think it is because my heart knew the way. 

This article I read also spoke of a few more tips.  One was to know your material.  I think that's what happens when my heart knows the way.  Anytime you study something over a long period of time, knowledge builds, so confidence in that knowledge builds.  Abhyasa is the sanskrit word for 'practice over a long period of time',  and it references how things we embark upon usually don't come to fruition immediately.  Everything needs time to germinate, grow, and fully blossom.  Everything, so even things you're trying to get over, or rid of.  (See Bernie Birney's blog).  Along the way there may be some mistakes - I'm sure today I would've forgotten I was wearing a mic at some point when I had to clear my throat and blown everyone's eardrums, or just startled the heck out of myself.
Mistakes are intrinsic to abhyasa, and considered in the Tantric tradition to be part of the fullest full spectrum of possibility to see, witness and embody in this life.  Patanjali speaks to this in the Yoga Sutras (1.13-1.15), and says that through abhyasa, one reaches vairagya (no, not viagra, although my teacher thinks they may be linguistically related). Vairagya is considered 'non-attachment', but its also a learning to let go of the aversions and fears, and even the false beliefs that cloud the true Self.  And uh, yea, it takes time.

So it's taken some practice for sure.  Teaching steadily since that fateful March day in 2002, in front of my beloved teacher and my peers who, to this day, still stand in front of me with glee and pride in their eyes, I have grown.  Now I actually love teaching large groups because the bigger reason is bigger than my fear.  I love connecting to people.   Sharing with them my love of this practice, its teachings, and the wisdom from my teachers is priceless.  Seeing student's leave a class beaming with a renewed sense of their own beauty is pricelss. 

But that damn microphone is gonna have to wait.  Rain date: September?