This week, I’ve been preparing for my very first attempt at leading a group of students through an hour-long class. As soon as I had the date and location for my first class set, all of the anatomy books, study guides, and flash cards I’ve been toiling over fell by the wayside as I agonized over what I should teach. Even more than what I should teach, I couldn’t get out of my head what kind of teacher I will be—what kind of teacher I want to be.

“Should I teach a strong vinyasa-style class or take things at a slower, more thoughtful pace? Will I focus on getting students deeper in a particular pose or part of the body? Should I bring a mixed CD or invite my students to use silence as a tool to help them turn their focus inward? Maybe I’ll bring candles for a little ambiance. No, a smoke smell might be irritating or distracting—or worse, could set off the building's sprinklers.”

I carefully considered the “students” (a small number of my friends and co-workers) who had agreed to attend my first class. Some are beginners, some are experienced; some have injuries, some are the epitome of health. “Somehow, someway, I have to teach something that will serve them all . . . ”

My mind had been racing like this for a week, and I was beginning to wonder how on earth I was going to pull everything together to provide my students with a cohesive yoga experience, when I finally threw up my hands in surrender. I realized the mistakes I make will make me a better—and more humble—teacher.

So, last night I pulled out my mat with the intention of practicing for an hour. I guided myself through a series of yoga sequences—whatever poses happened to come to mind—as if I were teaching a class to myself.

Low and behold! It was like the ideal sequence popped into my mind naturally! I drew on everything I’ve learned in the last six months. When I was done with my practice, I knew I wouldn’t need to change much about the sequence. I don’t need music or candles. I don’t need to think of jokes or try too hard to impress anyone. I am the teacher I am in this moment and when I get up to teach I will be who I am in that moment, and no amount of planning or analyzing will ever change that.

I’m no longer nervous about my class, now only three days away. I don’t think I’ll even create a cheat sheet. I don’t think I need to. My own practice will guide my intentions, my words, and my teaching.

Wish me luck!