It’s been a good while since I attended a yoga class. Weird I know, but I practice at home a lot myself, I teach it daily and sometimes I have enough of being so immersed in just Yoga! So I go to the gym, I walk my dogs, I hike, I meditate, I read, I write. I enjoy lots of different types of movements and ways to find headspace. However, of late I’ve been craving a yoga class led by another. So I joined one. It was a vinyasa class – the style I learned to teach, one of the styles I still teach today, albeit I infuse it with lots of different bits n bobs I’ve picked up along the way.

The teacher was friendly, the room, beautiful. The practice was strong and I got a sweat on. Yet I left feeling empty. About midways through yet another chaturanga (a flow sequence at the core of vinyasa – includes a press up etc) I began to think, is this the kind of yoga I teach to my students? Something akin to a workout? Devoid of emotion or feeling? Something that would be better served being taught with an anatomical focus in a gym with the purpose of building muscle? Something I think needs to be taught more slowly and carefully to a smaller group of people who have signed up for a workout? There on my yoga mat, an existential crisis unfolded. What do I teach anymore? If this is considered yoga, is this what I want to be teaching? Does the yoga I teach leave my students “feeling it” on a physical level only, with just burning shoulders and a parched mouth to show for the hour on the mat? Do they leave feeling empty too?

I pondered this for some time after, resolving that if this is what Yoga has become, then I don’t want to do this anymore. If this is what I actually unwittingly teach, then I’d better find myself a new job or train as a fitness instructor. All this swirling around in my head as I faced a weekend of work, so I to set my worries aside for a while, resolving to pick them back up for more pondering later and I headed back west.

My friend John, the proud owner of Brandon Adventures, had asked me to teach a yoga class to eight of Ireland’s best content creators (sometimes known as social media influencers) who were joining him for an adventure weekend. They were young, fun-loving and adventurous. I did my homework and checked out each of their envy-inducing pages full of sun-drenched old city walls, sundowner cocktails, galloping up mountains at sunrise, misty vistas and banging sound tracks – you get the picture! With these insights, I gave a lot of thought into what type of yoga practice I would offer them, my theme, intention, the type of poses I would choose based on their lifestyles, their interests, carers, age and the multiple possible layers that sit beneath each.

As John and I rolled out the yoga mats and set up the space in his stunning glass sunroom overlooking Brandon Bay, I lit candles, wafted incense, placed a bottle of lavender oil on each of their yoga bolsters (body pillows) and a rolled up scroll with journaling questions I’d created for them to take home. I slid a piece of homegrown lavender still damp with morning dew under the twine that secured the scroll.

The group filed into the room, full of oohs and ahhs and attached their tripods to high up windows, set up phones and recording devices and snapped photos to be later used on their social media pages, as part of their jobs. Then I invited them to sit and put their phones on airplane mode, or power them off. I explained our theme was about switching off, about not always being connected or available to others, but to be here to do something just for you, no one else but you.

One hour and fifteen minutes later as they lay in stillness on their mats with soft music enveloping our sunlight room against the backdrop of Mt Brandon, I could feel a melting pot of emotions rise from my students. Tears flowed, bodies trembled softly as tension and pressure released. Their perpetual motion and fizzy energy had settled and come to ground. I sat still and breathed slowly, allowing them space and time.

In the quiet after class, I spoke of how Yoga brings us home to ourselves, it invites us to let go of the outer world and distractions, to be with ourselves and how we feel. And sometimes in that stillness we realise how tightly we are holding on, how hard we are trying to keep everything together. When we soften our grip, tension, emotions that we have swallowed down rise up, that it’s normal, healthy and welcome. I shared on how the movements and poses I chose were designed with them in mind – extensive phone and laptop usage, a lot of driving, anxiety and the pressure to always be switched on. That the movements were a way of first allowing their physical bodies to unwind, to peel back the outer armour layers. Linking breath and movement together is a way of giving our busy over-active and over-stimulated minds something else to do for while, so we can singularly focus and be in the present moment. All of this so we can listen to our hearts and come back to who we really are and how we are really feeling.

”Influencers” we see online are mostly young people, doing their best, to be their best at something they enjoy and are good at. They are real and raw and vulnerable just like everyone else. They have what some may see as privileges, but with that comes expectation and the pressure to be always on – switched on, online, on trend. This comes with a hefty price tag for them. They are kind, fun, intelligent young people and we’d all do well to remember that the next time we cast a judgement or a fling a harsh DM or comment their way.

Some of us shared openly about the ups and downs of self-employment, how hard it is turn away work, never knowing if it will come again and how this is a one way ticket to burn-out. Of the invisible hound that nips our heels whispering “do more, try harder, go faster”. We shared a group hug and I imparted a little bit of advice from someone double their age (!). And I spoke of trust in the universe and how I remind myself she always provides for me and how I’m guided when I ask for help. They gifted me beautiful feedback such as - having attended many Yoga workshops at Ireland’s biggest wellness events, they had never experienced a Yoga class like this – where someone said “switch off now, I have no expectations of you, please place none on yourself, this time is just for you”.

I’ve received beautiful messages since the class and I shed a few tears in return as I let their kind words in. You might read this and wonder why and how after doing this for six years full-time I have these doubts? I carry the weight of not feeling good enough along with me since childhood. I am working on releasing that heavy weight but it takes time. I am human, I am vulnerable and I am honest. I sincerely hope the yoga I teach is not just stretching or an endless stream of insufficiently cued press-ups to an unseen crowd.  I try my best to hold space, to get to know my students and share a little bit of the wisdom I wish I’d known along the way. My style of teaching won’t resonate with everyone, but I hope that it reaches those who need it most, underpinned by my intention that I want what I do, to really matter, to make a difference in your life.

The universe aligned her stars this weekend and reminded me of the value Yoga has to offer, the value my teaching has to offer. Thank you to John of Brandon Adventures for inviting me to teach in your beautiful space. Thank you Dev, Niamh, Kevin, Eadaoin, Robyn, Joshua, Gareth, Clodagh, for your honesty, energy and openness and for inspiring an adventurous spirit in each of us who marvel at your experiences. I needed to meet you this weekend. You reminded me.

Go raibh míle maith agaibh,

Maeve x