Hot off the Mat:
KYTA members share their stories

In this issue, we kick off a new column that offers you a forum in which to share your experiences on the teacher's mat, whether they be silly or poignant, joyous or sorrowful. The theme for this edition is laughter on the mat. Thanks to Kathy Kali for inspiring this theme; please contact her at mattayoga@earthlink.net with more humorous stories.

For the next edition of Hot off the Mat, tell us about your act of courage to reach out to teach yoga. When were you willing to enter the unknown to spread the work of yoga? Send your stories to kyta@kripalu.org by August 1. We may edit your submissions.

The first time I taught "Yoga for Latinas" everyone was very patient with my terrible Spanish. I think they really understood how it felt to be learning a new language as an adult. My grammatical mistakes didn't seem to be a problem, and they accepted my "Healing Pool Visualization" even though, instead of the word curativa, which means healing, I used the word curare, meaning poison. Then came the shoulder exercise. Here's what I thought I said: "I can show you what to do with your shoulder or you can just do what feels good. Your second shoulder will be much easier." Some of the women smiled; others looked embarrassed. I felt confused. Then they explained, La palabra que quiere decir es hombro. The word for shoulder is hombro. I had said hombre, which sounds similar, but it means man!
—Roberta Schine, New York, New York

I was in my second month of teaching and I was leading my students through dirgha breath as part of our centering. I began inviting them to observe the breath filling up the belly first, then the middle ribs, then the upper rib cage—all the way to the top of the "clavichords." I guess I had musical instruments on my mind instead of anatomy ("clavicles" would have been the right term)! I recognized my mistake right away and was mortified, but I just kept on truckin'! Ah, the lessons of yoga are so immense—humor, humility, self-compassion—and I needed to call them all up to make it through the class and return the following week!
—Kathleen Gibbons, Portland, Maine

I was teaching a private class to a group of four young moms who were lined up in a row in Virabhadrasana I. The room was very austere as the homeowner had just moved in, and so the ambiance was somewhat serious. As I was expounding on the virtues of the great Warrior pose, one of the women's toddlers came running into the room, dashed over to his mom, whipped her shirt up, and begin voraciously sucking on her breast. We all promptly burst out laughing and fell over like a row of dominos. That was at the very beginning of my teaching career and nothing has topped it since!
—Diana Pollaro, Chatham, New Jersey

When I gave the instruction, in the Cobra posture, to place the hands at breast level, one of my more vocal and outspoken students, a woman in her fifties, asked, "Um, is that where they are now, or where they used to be?"
—Fran Vainas, Warner, New Hampshire

I'll never forget the teacher who, during a jam-packed class at the KYTA conference two years ago, meant to tell us to "sit in shimmering stillness" but had a little slip of the tongue on that first word. As a new teacher, I was deeply impressed that she could bring us to tears of laughter at her own expense. It gave me confidence when I set my scarf on fire during the universal sound of peace one day. Ommmm...oh, no! And recently, I guided a group of diabetic women on the Red Lake Indian Reservation to "Reach your middle fingers to the ceiling" (I meant pointer fingers in preparation for steeple). They howled. I love teaching yoga.
—Karen Filardo, Bemidji, Minnesota