In my early 20’s, I relied on a whole slew of people to manage my reactions. After having a bad day, I would reach out to a compassionate ear (or three) to relive the day’s happenings: my boss was being ridiculous, my boyfriend and I broke up again, or so-and-so said something slightly off about my awesome outfit.

These conversations often did two things: made me feel justified in my victim-hood and/or exasperated the problem. Often, I wouldn’t even think twice about what I had mentioned to my friend until my friend gave me their feedback on it. Next thing you know, instant mountain out of molehill.

Your words have power, and the ability to alter someone’s life.

After a year of solid practice I began to notice I wasn’t having as many breakthroughs. None of the teacher’s words were landing, and all that was left was me, my mat, and a teacher telling me to push through my insecurities in hip openers.

I found the lightness I walked in with was becoming rancid with humid air and suffering, straddling me with every thick life lesson weaved in between postures.

Not to discredit the practice itself, or any of the beautiful teachers I have practiced under – and I own my projections – but I started to wonder if all the rhetoric was turning my zen into a never ending cycle of “peeling back the layers” and “digging deep” into whatever past pain had lodged itself into my thirty-year-old body, that needed to be mined out with a chiseled thunderbolt.

A tough question to answer, especially with several lineages (and new spins on a classic) reciting these terms in every class. Is it perpetuating the issue? Is it CREATING an issue?

My answer: to try my hardest to encourage the light side of life to emerge in a class, and this is why I recommend you do the same:

1. Transformation happens with or without you.

Yoga works, plain and simple. Everyone who shows up to their mat is either going through a different challenge or having a perfect freaking day. Leading and coaxing students into a “transformative” class doesn’t honor where each individual is at. And it doesn’t accept the students for who they are, perfect in each moment.

As a facilitator, ask yourself:

• Are you focused more on the “end” than the present?
• Is there some part of you that needs to be the “one” who led the student to the breakthrough?
• Could your ego be involved?

2. Yoga is about creating ease in the body.

Tension, discomfort and pain are all signs of not being at ease in the body. Yoga offers a great way to let the body move and relax, creating this ease.

Wrestling with the dark and chasing the shadow is one hell of a way to take the ease out of a class.

Floundering on the inadvertent edge does offer students the opportunity to experience, express and grow – though taking them here too often can create a love hate relationship with the practice, and increases risk of injury.

3. The mind is extremely fertile through the practice. Plant better seeds.

Being in the body allows a break in the mind. During a practice the mind may have certain things resonate, like “aha” moments. The little gold nuggets of wisdom or a new truth about life becomes apparent.

Leading a class, you have the opportunity to choose the general theme for these “aha’s”. And why not choose limitless possibilities and  positivity? Drawing attention to the negatives can only increase them under the rule that what you focus on grows. Shifting your attention to the positive radiates out to students.

Instead of “letting go of everything that’s happened today,” try say “embracing everything that’s happened today” – follow it up with a big hug and kiss your troubles goodbye!

In my personal practice, I use savasana for manifestation. I close my eyes and dream up what I want to attract in life. I carry all the good feelings associated with it through this final posture, often pretending that the heavens are raining its abundance down on me.

Sounds glorious, right? It is. Go try it!

Note from Jesi (2/11/17): Many of us raised in the Power style of yoga practice often go through a period of time where there is a disconnect from what we are taught in the practice, what our teachers tell us, and what we learn to teach. This moment beautifully captures the disconnect I had. I am beyond thankful that I stayed with the practice and moved on to teachers who have done the work and the studies this practice requires. Teaching yoga with pure intentions (keeping students safe, speaking your own words, being in service, holding space, and letting the class be about the students) is one way to move past the disconnect. “Passion is not power; it is the abuse of power, the dispersion of power. Passion is like a furious storm which beats fiercely and wildly upon the embattled rock whilst power is like the rock itself, which remains silent and unmoved through it all.” – James Allen, 1906