My Yoga Teacher Flirt Fail—Lessons Learned

 

So, I’ve had a crush on my yoga teacher for some time now.

I did an unlimited month of yoga and was often at her class (purely coincidentally). But my month ended, and we all know my track record for committing to anything for too long. So, I’ve been cheating on yoga with CrossFit and spin classes. Because variety!

The thing is, my crush on her has remained strong. So, today was the day. I am house-sitting for my brother, and I was walking his fiancee’s dog and happened to stroll past the yoga studio. I stopped in, and there was class going on. And she was teaching. She saw me through the glass and did a small wave.

I found out that she was teaching again at 11am, but that she’d have a 15 minute break before her next class, so I hatched a plan.

I didn’t want to go to the yoga class. I mean, I did, but I didn’t think it was wise. I was trying to break the yoke of the “yogini-teacher” relationship, in part, by not coming. If I wasn’t currently a student… perhaps I’d have a better shot at the girl. (I was assuming there is an unwritten rule that yoga teachers don’t date their students, but maybe I’m wrong.)

I came back around, this time sans dog (mistake!), and I thought I saw her as I was walking up about 50 yards ahead of me, headed to the nearby 7-11. I was pretty sure it was her, but I walked into the yoga studio just in case (also so as not to announce my status as a card-carrying member of the “Stalker Society”).

The guy at the desk smiled and said, “She just stepped out, but she’ll be right back. You’re welcome to sit down and make some tea if you like.”

If only I had done that… ye (me!) of little faith.

But, noooo. Here was my rationale:

If I’m inside, with other students waiting for her class, I might get to talk to her, but there was no way I was going to ask for her number out loud in that space with other ears. Mostly because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by putting her on the spot.

So, you ask, what did I do instead?

I walked outside, leaned on the brick wall adjacent the door, and waited for her to come back.

Like a stalker.

 

I’m casually lookin at my phone when she walks up. She had a nice smile and said, “Hey. I saw you walk in earlier.”

She then asked me if I was coming for the yoga class. I said, no—that I really just came to say hello.

Now, let’s step a few paces back to analyze the situation (i.e., what’s going on in my head).

I’m probing at this point to see if there was a window of opportunity; if there’s interest coming from her. We definitely shared some highly intimate “yoga time” in class (like the time she sat on my leg to hold it down, about a foot from my face), and I thought maybe there was some chemistry between us.

I asked how she’s been, and she told me a couple things going on with her. At this point, there is only ONE question in my mind: do I pull the trigger or not? Do I ask for her number by way of saying some awkward form of I’d love to hang out sometime.

The conversation was now edging towards that space bordering on over, and she said, “Hey, I have to get inside to teach my yoga class now.” She was very sweet about it, and I just said it was nice to see her and left.

So, more analysis:

I’ve been reading Kierkegaard and Unamuno lately, two heavy-hitting philosophers, who both talk about faith.

And I realized something about this morning about myself:

When it comes to life, I think I have faith, but I really don’t.

Because if I did, I would have listened to the guy at the desk, plopped my ass down and made myself some fucking tea!

But, taking this deeper, the reason I didn’t was because of this:

I had an outcome, a goal—to get her digits—and if I was inside the studio, I saw 0 possibility of that happening.

So, what did I do?

I forced it.

Or, tried.

 

And that’s my big “aha,” take-away, realization from this whole experience!

Life is so much about trusting the moment—and trusting life.

Life was inviting me to leave my expectations outside of the yoga studio, to come in and enjoy some tea—and see what wanted to unfold.

But in my head, since that was incompatible with my primary objective, I stood outside, awkwardly trying to force an interaction—like a weirdo.

I think the big lesson here, for me, and perhaps for some of you reading this, is to:

1. Be aware of our desired outcomes
2. Notice when it feels like we’re bending ourselves into a pretzel (i.e., forcing it) to make it happen
3. Take a deep breath
4. See what becomes available when we let go of our one-and-only possible outcome

 

I mean, who knows what might have happened had I come in and just waited for her with my cup of tea. Maybe we have a nice chat and nothing else.

Maybe I just get to know her better and establish a deeper connection.

Maybe the next time I do yoga, a few of us, including her, all go out for coffee afterwards.

Maybe I meet another student who is not on my radar; someone that I don’t have to worry about the teacher-student relationship thing with.

 

The thing is, we probably don’t know the totality of what’s possible.

And if I look at my whole life’s work of trying to get closer to women, it almost always has involved “forcing it.”

But not just women! I’m trying to force being successful; force getting my books published.

Forcing, forcing, forcing!

And that’s both my revelation and my resolution: to notice when I’m forcing it and instead choose to play in the space, listen for the invitation, and surrender to what wants to happen next.

 

 

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