Suffer the little children

I was lucky enough to be involved in an event in Northampton yesterday: Yoga in the Park, which coincided with International Yoga Day and the summer solstice. There was a tent dedicated to yoga activities for children, and I told the women running the sessions that I was in awe of their abilities, because although I have trained to teach yoga to teenies, I have decided that I don’t have what it takes. I was reminded of an article I had written for Om yoga & lifestyle magazine a while ago, in which I related the following anecdote. 

I was thinking that the class had gone well. First time with a new group of 11 students, all yoga beginners. We’d had a chat at the start to share our expectations and together had worked through the programme gently and with good humour – or so I thought. Then my ego got a jolt when a voice to my left said: ‘When is this Godforsaken class going to finish?’ 

I was rather taken aback but I wasn’t annoyed, because the person with this brutally honest approach was only four years old. I was taking a class with a group of primary school pupils. I was a bit disappointed that he wasn’t crying out for more (and I wondered where he’d heard that particular turn of phrase), but I just smiled at him and reassured him that it was nearly home time, which seemed to pacify him. I just hope that his experience with me hasn’t put him off yoga for life.