And so it is over; after much blood, sweat, and many many tears, our yoga teacher training has come to an end. Our graduation weekend not only marked the end of our time teacher training with Power Living, but the anniversary of a wonderful first three months of Sydney-side living.
As the queen of procrastination, I have spent most of the last three months promising myself to put aside time for studying for our written exams – but alas, life – as it does – got in the way. I had planned to spend the week leading up to our exams practise teaching by sunrise every morning, revising anatomy and the philosophy of yoga by night. Alas it wasn’t to be – I fell ill with a cold; had my work Christmas party on the Friday, and the ‘study’ night I spent with my gorgeous friend Sarah turned into a much needed post-Bali catch up.
I arrived on the Saturday feeling pretty reflective; it has been a messy, emotional, wonderful experience and a sadness set in that this would be the last weekend our yogi family spent together. Emee – who along with Jase has led much of our teacher training – took us through an intense and ninety minute practise, that left much of the class pouring with sweat and physically exhausted.
And next: the revision. Our manuals had stated that the Saturday would be spent going over everything we’d learnt over the past three months; the Sunday would be for the exams. The panic didn’t set in until it was announced that the 90-question written exam had been moved to Saturday afternoon, and thus a frantic morning and lunch break was spent going over everything we’d learnt over the past three months as I cursed myself for not having done anything sooner. I finished the exam, convinced I had failed; but relieved it was over and that I wouldn’t have to spend my Saturday night holed up at home going through spreadsheets on bones and muscles. After the exam we did another couple of hours of practise teaching – our last opportunity before Sunday’s finals.
As I walked to the studio on Sunday – deliberately going the longer route which took me across the cliffs by South Bondi – offering the perfect early morning view of the beach I now call home – I felt hugely emotional. Both my move to Sydney and training to be a yoga teacher have been the two biggest challenges I’ve faced, and the last day of teacher training not only felt like the end of an era; but was also a day I never thought I’d see all those weeks ago when I first arrived in Sydney.
After a wonderful class led by Eliza the practise teaching began. Amy was up first – who was absolutely brilliant – but by the time my name was called I was on the verge of crying before I even got to the front of class. Suffice to say I screwed it up royally – the only similar experience I can compare it to was when I was playing the much coveted role of the Virgin Mary in my playgroup’s nativity play, and got such horrific stage fright that I burst into tears and spent the rest of the evening banging the tambourine as I sat on one of my teacher’s lap. I left the studio in tears, convinced that I should never have left London and that the whole teacher training thing was a colossal mistake. Thankfully I had everyone around me to assure me otherwise, and my fab friend Ally took me to the beach for fresh air, a prep talk and some much needed words of wisdom.
While my second attempt that afternoon was no where near perfect, I passed, and felt not only a sense of huge relief, but also so very loved by all my new, wonderful and supportive friends. The day drew to an end quicker than I would have liked, and I began saying staggered goodbyes to the people who have become my family over the past three months. I’m unbelievably lucky that most of them live near me, and that I’ve already formed such incredible friendships in the short time I’ve been here; certainly my three months in Sydney would have been much lonelier without each and every one of them. Whether or not they go on to teach, I’m sure they’re all destined for great things. There is something so special about the group of people I trained with, and I will forever be thankful that they – and yoga – came into my life.
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