Maybe it's my appreciation for literature and language that makes yoga metaphors so compelling. Or perhaps it's just my disdain for trite explanations. More likely, though, it's the fact that I can talk about virtually anything I want to and make it relate to yoga. (For example, "Did you see American Idol last night? The contestants who are the most successful are those who know they're amazing singers no matter what the judges say. If you notice a Simon Cowell in your head during class today, tune him out.") The best metaphors are creative and playful, but at the same time serious and memorable.

This week, I tried using a visual metaphor to explain to my students why yoga works so well. I got this idea from the YogaEd director Leah Kalish at the Yoga Journal conference a few weeks ago and I couldn't wait to use it.

Here's what you need:

• a glass bowl


• a colorful sponge


• water

You fill the bowl with water and put the sponge in, letting it sink to the bottom. You let your students know that they are the sponge, and the bowl of water is their life. We often get bogged down with stress, pressure, and day-to-day life that we become completely saturated—it's like we're drowning. But when we come to yoga class it temporarily takes us out of our life (take the sponge out of the water). With each twist, back bend, forward bend, and side stretch (which you demonstrate with the sponge held over top of the bowl), we release our stress. And by the end, we're more sponge and less water! You can breathe! Then, when you go back to your life, you might float on top for a while. When you sink, it's time for yoga again!

So simple!

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 06:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

My name is Erica, and I am a yoga pusher. I will stop at almost nothing to pursuade friends, co-workers, family members, coffee shop baristas, people I pass on the street—anyone who will listen to me—to do yoga. If they already do yoga, I'd like to convince them to do more, or at the very least engage in a conversation with them about the subtleties of breath and alignment.

It is usually not a problem for me when I'm mulling about San Francisco, doing San Francisco-like things (buying organic produce, honking for peace, etc.). I'm blessed to live in an area where the yoga pushers might even outnumber the conscientious (or not-so-conscientious) yoga objectors.

Believe it or not, it's unusual for people to look at me like I'm a complete nut.

This was not the case when I visited my childhood home in Tennessee last week. Even though I tried to hold back, I was reminded that there is another world outside of my happy little yoga bubble. The one yoga class I drive 35 miles to attend was in a beautiful space, had only four students. My 12-year-old niece did not approve of my vegetarian cooking (granted, I'm not the best cook in the world). The few non-family member encounters I had during my trip, I got the feeling my yoga discussions might not go over so well since I had to repeat "yoga" two or three times before they understood what I do for a living. Alas, whether I like it or not, some people will not be converted to my yogic point of view.

And that's OK . . . I guess. After all, yoga teaches acceptance, or at least tolerance. But it's still hard for me to find a balance between speaking my truth and forcing it on everyone, especially those people who aren't interested. That's why I wanted to become a yoga teacher in the first place. Now, those who are interested in learning can come to me and ask.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 06:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

This weekend I've been able to study with some of the best yoga teachers in the free world at the Yoga Journal Conference at Grand Geneva, Wis. In the last four days I have met/studied with the following amazing teachers:
Ana Forrest, Desiree Rumbaugh, Aadil Palkhivala, Gary Kraftsow, Ganga White, Seane Corn, Shiva Rea, David Swenson, and Leah Kalish.

So it's easy to understand why I feel like luckiest yogi in the universe. I've been to these conferences before, and I've always learned a lot—usually a lot of helpful asana tips. But this weekend wasn't just about the teachers and the asana for me. It seemed like their messages all aligned to give me the exact message I needed to hear.

"Stop whining! Take a deep breath and move on, because you've got more important things to do."

You see, I've been feeling bad about my yoga practice lately—and worse about my teaching. I haven't been practicing daily. I recently hurt mysef. And no matter what I do, I can't get the attendance for my yoga class up. In other words, I needed this conference.

First, Desiree Rumbaugh taught about physical and emotional strength. All of the challenges that come up in your life are there to mold you into who you are, she said. And yoga makes you strong engough to handle it all.

I watched Ana Forrest twist and turn her body into the most beautiful and inspirational positions I've ever seen in an asana demonstration she performs to help us realize it's possible to overcome adversity. (She had been born crippled and endured a great deal of abuse in her life. She may be my new hero.)

Then, Seane Corn talked about Karma Yoga. She told about her work with YouthAids in poverty-stricken countries. And she encouraged the class to think about what we're passionate about—ways we can make a difference. She also explained her theory that all the negative things happening the world today are a culmination of all of our bad thoughts. Oops.

But perhaps I was most impacted by Leah Kalish, the director for a program that works to educate yoga teachers and school teachers to introduce yoga in the school systems, Yoga Ed. I spent the entire day with Leah, as she talked about lesson plans and teaching tactics. And even though this workshop was about teaching younger kids than I teach, I got tons of ideas for my class. We hissed like snakes. We roared like lions. We played a lot of fun games. I was reminded of how much fun yoga can be.

I can't wait to teach again.

Posted by Erica Rodefer at 02:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)