Last night, I held a donation-based yoga class overlooking the beach. As usual, I created an event on Facebook and invited a ton of friends and shared the event in a couple of yoga groups. As of 6p yesterday (the class was at 6:45p), there were seven “interested.”
One of the people “interested” texted me to say she couldn’t make it.
No one else showed up.
It was the first time in my relatively short teaching experience that no one had shown up to one of my classes. Even though I always secretly worried about it, it had never actually happened. Until last night.
There was actually another small yoga class going on a short distance away. I think the teacher was doing something similar to me. Some people showed up, although she had been waiting for quite some time before they came.
As I sat on the grass alone, I thought of the different reactions I could have:
- I could be upset and annoyed that people didn’t show up.
- I could be mad at myself for not promoting the event more and encouraging my friends to come. (I hadn’t publicized it as much as past donation classes.)
- I could be relieved, because the truth was, my energy had been feeling off all day and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was to actually teach the class.
- I could be jealous of the other girl teaching.
- I could be disappointed at the waste of a fantastic parking spot.
- I could be grateful that I at least was able to get out of the house for a little bit (and for the awesome parking spot).
In the end . . . well, I was all of these things and I was none of these things. In the end, I just accepted it. Those feelings I listed above came and went, some stronger than others, some barely registering. But really, I didn’t have any strong reactions. It was what it was.
I did end up spending about 30 minutes talking to an older gentleman who stopped and asked me about yoga. We talked about NamaSteve’s weekend classes, other yoga studios in San Diego, ADD, the practice of law (turns out he was a recovering family law attorney), and other things that just came up. In the end, we shook hands, talked about how nice it was to meet, and I left to go home before the sunset.
What’s the lesson in all this? I don’t know. Maybe it was an exercise in remembering that the only thing I control is how I react to situations. Maybe it was the universe recognizing my need to just sit outside for a little bit. Maybe there was no lesson at all.
All that being said, I am trying to make weekly donation classes a regular thing. As of right now, they’re being held Monday nights, around 6:45p or 7p (depending on the sunset), at Law Street Beach in PB. I’m open to suggestions about different locations/times/days of the week, so please feel free to tell me what you’re looking for! Next donation class will be Monday, August 1, at 6:45p at Law Street Beach.