Welcome to the ramblings and trials and discoveries of a newly qualified Yoga Teacher searching for her Yogic purpose…or maybe just in the middle of having a mid-30s breakdown.
Either way, here you’ll find things I love whether it be an asana I’ve finally cracked, something inspiring I’d like to share, or a recipe thats FIT, all along my quest to open my kundalini (that’s the primal energy of the spine by the way).
In this 1st entry id like to share with you a little bit about my yoga “journey” so far (barf and don’t worry – I’ll attempt to keep those guff descriptions to a minimal) so you at least can be assured I know what I’m talking about. Sometimes anyway.
Once upon a time, a girl went to Nottingham Trent University (the not-good-one) to study Fashion Marketing, and joined a £10 a month student gym and tried her first yoga class in her Adidas poppers. Obviously I’d heard about Yoga before this point – but in the 90s Hull (where I’m from) wasn’t known as a hotbed for spiritual enlightenment – so it was a new concept to me. Off I went to a regular gym class, throwing my shapes in disregard of any type of purpose.
I wouldn’t say like many it was an instant marriage made in heaven, unless that particular marriage had frequent breaks, was fraught with accidents and generally very painful every time. So yes exactly like a long and complicated marriage I suppose.
My next significant foray was in New York where I lived for a while. This was unlike anything I had seen (or felt!) before. We were mat to mat, repeating the same sequence over and over, sweating competitively in pants and a bra (not me!?), and trying hard not to routinely pass out. I was sick in a bin outside the first time.
Yep that’s right, I had discovered Bikram yoga.
Like the lover you know you shouldn’t keep going back to, I just couldn’t help myself. It was a little like joining a sweaty, salty, cult.
When I moved back to London with my interest piqued, I tried all the Yogas. Ashtanga, Hatha, Vinyasa, Scaravelli, Restorative, Yin, fumbling my way through the classes, always at the back, and always envious of those at the front and their spiritual flexible ways.
Even though you might say I lacked direction, I knew I liked it, as this was the only time in the week I would be focused on just this one thing. I turned my phone off. I was unreachable.
I found regular teachers I loved, and started on the retreats and festivals. I did yoga in India, Mallorca, Canada, Australia, Ibiza and Essex (!!). It was becoming an actual hobby I didn’t get bored of after a month (see: Netball Team, Philosophy Cult, Italian Course, Tennis, Interior Design, unsuccessfully joining a choir after singing lessons, pretending to be a professional runner for Nike and ending up at the Olympic stadium, oh and Krav Maga. Stories for another time.)
And so it was thus, Yoga was the constant from the age of 18. No matter the stressful day job or where I was, I found a place to do yoga. I liked the Sanskrit words that I had no idea what they meant, I liked the breathing instructions when it became evident I was a breath-holder, I liked both the familiarity and opportunity of the postures, I liked to still my whirling mind cycles even for a moment.
So in the summer of 2016, I decided I’d quite like to know what it was all about. Properly.
My research drew me to the Zuna Yoga 200 YTT course in Bali promising to impart the wisdom in technique and traditions. I was pretty sure my motivation was to learn more and definitely not to teach. I must have misplaced my crystal ball that day.
I was accepted onto the course and off I went on the 29th November to Ubud, the spiritual home of mopeds, plastic bottles and Eat, Pray, Love. Step outside the traffic jammed centre however i found serenity, rice fields and the odd erupting volcano. It was ruddy beautiful.
The training was the most challenging thing I’ve ever done – physically, mentally, and discipline was drilled into us from day 1, which I fought at first and then which became strangely comforting. The 5am starts, the silent mornings, the days without phone distractions all became everyday life for a moment in time. I was astounded at how you could break the patterns of a lifetime in a few short weeks. Truly remarkable.
Beyond that, it also made me appreciate my relationships with loved ones and friends, the life I’d lived and the one I was living, and certainly put my search for something greater into perspective. Life was bloody special and full of opportunity.
I also had a profound respect for any teachers I’d had before knowing the thought and practise and work that went into every single class.
Was it transformative? Yes. But not in the way a nun gets her calling. It suddenly allowed me to take stock, refocus, and learn an entirely new skill I was hell bent on sharing…in case it was helpful to my friends and family and even beyond that. So yes, the course was actually…life changing.
And so, in the summer of 2017 after finishing my reports, it was official. I was accepted by the yoga gods and turned into an overnight Guru. I will now be referred to as Guru Glover. If you’ve had too much tequila.
So here I suppose is where the “journey” begins. I’m equipped and ready to start working the rest of it out. It’ll take a lifetime, but I’ll give it a good go and share anything that might be a bit interesting here with you. Well until I decide to try and get on the Bake Off anyway.