Rosa Stark

Do you lead groups or guide individuals? How does this responsibility impact you? Ever feel like you should do more, know more, be different?
Depending on the context, the people involved, and the subject matter, I experience guiding others as either exhilarating, or a delicate dance with impostor syndrome. Often, it is a blend of both, encompassing curiosity, insecurities, passion, presence, etc.
Years ago, a teacher of mine emphasized the importance of keeping our personal matters separate from our role as teachers. Undoubtedly, holding space requires the ability to contain ourselves and fully engage with our students' experiences. Plus, some students may appreciate a teacher who stays at a distance.
I am not that type of student. I thrive in my own learning when I can relate to someone as a genuine human being with both strengths and challenges. A mentor who knows their subject matter and maintains professional boundaries on the one hand, but who is not afraid to show vulnerability, to express personal opinions (while acknowledging their subjectivity) on the other hand; Someone who remains open to revising their views based on the feedback they receive. It is this type of sincere and respectful teacher-student relationship that I trust instinctively. Thanks to this trust, I take away the greatest amount of learning.

From a remarkable sequencing strategy to what can feel like x-ray vision, has a lot of knowledge to offer. After three weekends with her, I’ve certainly jotted down tons of new ideas and tricks. Beyond that, I’m grateful to have a mentor who portrays balancing professional competence with personal authenticity. Observing Annie grant herself permission to be herself in a teaching context encourages me to do the same. Learning about some of her struggles, hearing her respond "I don't know,” from time to time, and witnessing her genuine interest in her students' points of view contribute to finding more ease in my own teaching practice: Her example helps me soothe my insecurities and remind myself that, while there is always more to learn, I am already enough.

Rest your hands on your thighs. In your right hand, feel your strength, your efforts, your ability to show up. In your left hand, feel your ease, your ability to accept.

Slowly, lift your hands.
Let your palms face one another. Maybe bring them together, maybe allow a little space between them. Stay with it for a moment.

Loved this play with effort and ease at the end of last Saturday's morning practice with (who may have used slightly different words). Picture by .

Big groups make me uncomfortable.
Yes, I'm extroverted. Yes, I ask 10 million questions in any learning environment, even one with a lot of participants. Still, the average 40+ people group in a Yoga training triggers a colorful bouquet of insecurities for me. This has nothing to do with any individual in the group: I assume that each participant is a great human being.

During my training with and , I would stare blankly into a corner for hours each night, or I'd cry. Or both. It was the quickest way for my nervous system to down regulate after ~seven hours of group input.
I used to think I needed better boundaries and a clearer sense of self to avoid getting overwhelmed. Of course, boundaries and a sense of self tend to be helpful in general; but I no longer think they will prevent my discomfort in large learning environments. Instead, I believe the root of the phenomenon is sensory overload in social contexts. It is also why I struggle with group vacations, big family events, or conferences. Reframing my perspective has decreased the pressure I feel to change my personality. Instead of pushing myself harder, I now regulate the amount of stimulation, in an effort to accomodate my mind:
1. Shorter days (Thankfully, does 5.5 hr training days)
2. Long walks, lunch breaks alone, etc.
3. Hearing a familiar voice (this can be a podcast, too).
4. Keeping other obligations at a minimum when in training.
5. Forcing myself to go to bed early.
6. Placing my mat at a corner of the room.
7. Adjusting my expectations: knowing that a big group training will be as much of a joy and inspiration as it will be a challenge for me helps me go through the training with a steadier mindset.
Thanks to these tools, I can redirect my focus from negative thoughts bubbling up towards the wonderful, multi-layered information I receive.

If you teach me something, I'll relate it to you. Yoga, Chemistry, languages; My memory links content to people.
Put me in a Yoga pose, and I'll immediately hear the sound of my teachers' voices.
Pick a ligament and I'll tell you which one of my fellow students I memorized it with.
Give me a violin and I'll name the people who taught me a specific technique 20 years ago.

In various contexts, I've watched my teachers model instructing, think critically, and be human. By chosing their role, they've invited me to project a bit of my baggage on to them and own it in the process; on top of that, they've taught me the content I came to them for. Being offered a safe space to grow is maybe the biggest gift there is (to me).

11 years ago, I started teaching Yoga. Although I was aware of my fondness for my own teachers, I had no idea about the kind of love I was going to feel for my students: Witnessing the individual journeys over the years, being trusted to guide something as intimate as breathing, and swimming in oxytocin co-highs while sitting with a group in Savasana -- experiencing the other end of the relationship has been as incredible as it has been humbling.
By means of their authenticity and their commitment, my students have taught me more than I could have hoped to learn in any training or course.

Happy new year!
I'm back and excited to teach:
Tuesdays, 530 p, & online (Livestream only)
Tuesdays, 8 p, Feelgoodstudio • Yoga & TCM] & online (live & on demand)
Thursdays, 530 p, Feelgoodstudio • Yoga & TCM]

#1010 #1150 #1070

This is me, in my happy place²: listening to 's meditations after a very slow swim. I've been dealing with some stress related physical symptoms for a bit now, and I'm fascinated by the way that water provides relief. Two laps in, I start watching my nervous system downregulate thanks to water pressure.
It feels like, for a moment, my whole world slows down. Topping it off with the soothing quality of Andrea's voice can sometimes lead to tears, which is another sign of relief to me. Her meditations are free, by the way, and I highly recommend them.

I teach two more classes this week:
Today, 6 pm (not: 730)
1040
Saturday, 6 pm, 1040.
We'll incorporate restorative poses in both classes; like water, these poses, provide pressure/weight and lots of tactile feedback to invite your parasympathetic nervous system to take over.

I'm back!
Today, 6 pm and 730 pm at ; 730 pm online.

Come practice 💜

I hated gym class. All I cared about was music, and for the last two years of high school, I convinced my doctor to sign a statement saying I shouldn't participate in any physical education to "protect my fingers", so my future as a musician wouldn't be at risk.
The real reason I didn't like to sprint, play ball, or hold plank pose was much simpler: I sucked at it. I was the slowest runner in my class, often tripped, and instead of throwing a ball in a perfect arc like so many of my class mates, I would regularly drop it behind me.
In other areas of life, I was a fast learner, and my identity didn't leave space for struggling with a task. As a consequence, I avoided the task and decided once and for all: Sports are a waste of time.

14 years, some suffering, and many new beginnings later, I am still clumsy. Very clumsy. I fall off my bike or lose my keys every week. I know now that this is a symptom of my ADD. But for a while, there has been a small rectangle in my life that helps me hold my focus and refine my physical alignment. On my Yoga mat, I have learned to adjust the angles of my joints independently of one another, sometimes even while balancing on one leg. To my high school self, this would have been unimaginable.
Last week, I took a five day training with in which she laid emphasis on femur grounding and "the rib wheel". When I moved into down dog post training yesterday, my body took the Annie-informed shape without me thinking about it (pic 2): I made no conscious effort to soften the groin, descend the femurs, or breathe into the back ribs. Instead, my body remembered, all by itself, after just five days! This was completely new to me. Undoubtedly, Annie's remarkable ability to teach paying attention played a significant role in it.
I know it's a lot to hope for but I wonder if some day, muscle memory will help me hold on to my keys and maybe even keep me on my bike...

This week, we'll work with psychological resources. In the midst of it all, we'll look for pleasure, strength, and trust. This doesn't mean we'll ignore everything that is happening and stop processing, assisting, or caring. It just means we'll take an hour to refill our mental (and physical) batteries, so that when we leave our mats, we can return to the world feeling replenished.
Come join:
Today, 530,
Today, 8 pm, Feelgoodstudio • Yoga & TCM]
Thursday, 730 pm, Feelgoodstudio • Yoga & TCM]
Each one of these classes is available online, live and on demand.