I’m considering applying for the YogaWorks 200 hour teacher training this year. I have arrived at a crossroads, however, in my quest towards the hybridization of my passion (yoga) and my heart’s work (journalism). I have reached an ultimate quandary:
Does one want to turn their hobby into an obligation?
Let’s lightly examine both sides of the coin.
One, I am a writer. It’s who I am. It’s in my blood. It’s what I’m here to do. My mind operates in a myriad of prose tangled with poetry, drowning in single words, etched by their own beautiful syllables. Writing is what I will do, whether or not it ever procures a salary.
Two, I am a yogi. The sheer bliss that yoga bestows upon me radiates from my soul and fortifies my very existence. I cannot imagine my life without it. I can’t even go one single day without at least one asana, even if it’s only Tadasana. Yoga brings me a sense of peace, certainty, and inspiration I did not know was possible. It gives my life purpose.
That being said, what being in my shoes wouldn’t come to the question, “Why not combine these two loves?” I can’t really even categorize writing and yoga as “hobbies.” Nor could I classify them as “obsessions” or “passions” or “interests.” They flow deeply within my blood, course through my veins with the fervor of an earthquake tracing a fault line. They are as one as the hemispheres of the very brain that has become cognizant of the qualm about which I’m writing.
Now for less of the dreamy, blissed-out fact, and more of the functional side of the coin. I’m prepared to spend $3,250 for the 200 hour teacher training. This includes unlimited yoga at YogaWorks for the duration of the program, after which I will be a certified yoga instructor. My personal intention in obtaining my certification is to blend my practice with journalism to create something beautiful…I’m not yet sure as to how this will manifest. Baby steps, right? I envision retreats, a magazine, perhaps a studio, definitely a book. One thing is for certain, I am not afraid of the uncertainty involved in a risky move like this. I would love to be able to teach yoga, however this is where my qualm of turning my hobby into an obligation arises. I’m concerned that teaching yoga might become like any other “job” and I might dread my alarm ringing in the darkness of early hours to teach a 6 a.m. class, or missing dinner at home because I have an evening vinyasa to teach. I must admit, though, the longer I practice, the more dedicated I become, and frankly the longer I write about this…the more I’m convinced that teaching would be as much a hobby as practicing. I feel they would entwine as one. Therein lies my answer to that quandary, I suppose!
Next is the assumption I have made about being able to possibly teach at YogaWorks after a 200 hour training. I see that is far from possible. It appears there is an additional 300 hours needed, as well as a hefty application fee to even attempt and become a part of the actual YogaWorks certification. The good news is, my dream is not to teach at YogaWorks (though I don’t doubt it is a coveted, incredible, and rewarding position to earn). My dream is to write about yoga and the divine light of humming energy it shines into the lives of practitioners; I want to lead an annual summer backpacking yoga retreat with my best friend; I intend to reach out to eating disorder victims, both suffering and recovering alike, and illuminate the beautiful lesson taught to me by Ashley Turner that the body is “an instrument not an ornament.”
I selfishly wrote this post so I might work through the internal dilemma I’ve been tossing from left brain to right, and back for several weeks now. I’ve discussed with two trusted individuals, and with their respectful opinions as well as my own under my belt, I am overjoyed to say I’ve reached a point of deeper clarity thanks to this post. I hope it has brought even one thing to light for you, so that you might be repaid for reading to the end. I know it has brought many things to light for me, and this is yet one more reason why I am forever married to the art of manifesting the written word. Cheers to manifesting. I hope you all have a gorgeous Saturday night.