Zoom!

Who remembers when Zoom was an ice lolly bought with glee from the ice cream van? The one with the chakras …..

The news in March 2020 was that we couldn’t teach face to face. I cancelled my classes a week before it became law, and I cancelled my therapy clients. What a huge decision; mentally I plummeted. 6 years of building my classes, 3 years since ditching the office job to become solely a Yoga teacher and therapist. It was heartbreaking. There was also my income to consider having no other source.

However …

On social media there are many forums where yoga teachers share. Very quickly, the more techie yogis started to share their knowledge of online teaching. A few rabbit holes later - you know that feeling where you just pop your head in the hole to have a decko and before you know it it’s 2 days later - and Zoom was loaded, the conservatory rearranged and a loose plan evolved. I invited my classes to join me for a practise session and all went well. A timetable was then arranged and off we went! Zoom, zoom, zoom!

Investment. I found that my throat was constantly sore. I was trying to throw my voice all over Knaresborough, Harrogate and Wetherby! So the first investment, apart from Zoom fees, was a decent microphone. The world changed! I could speak normally, and the noise cancellation from outside the house was fantastic. I then bought a webcam and a ring light. These transformed how I appeared and allowed me more freedom of movement. I found out that lighting is key.

But back to noise cancellation. Sadly the microphone doesn’t cancel out noise from behind me and I teach with my back to the house - it’s a small open plan house. Behind me are glass patio doors leading to the dining kitchen and open plan living room. The porch and back door are part of the conservatory building, and having dogs we use the back door more than the front door. The dividing wall is right next to where I teach.

Yes, I have dogs. I also have a husband. Every time he came home or came in from being outside, the walls shook as he closed the back door without using the handle - SLAM! Shaaaaaake! Rattle (especially if he’d been out with the dogs as he’d throw the leads at the hook on the wall - probably not throw in fact but to my highly acute senses it felt like it). Husband’s lesson number 1 was how to enter and exit the building quietly.

Lesson number 2 - do not sharpen knives whilst Judi’s teaching. Honestly, it sounded like he was making pies in a barber shop.

Lesson number 3 - do not sweep up whilst Judi’s teaching. Shoooop, shoooooop, shooop, bang, clang (the bin).

Lesson number 4 - do not tell the dogs off in a loud voice whilst Judi’s teaching. In fact, never talk to my girls like that please.

Lesson number 5 - do not talk to brother in Wales on the phone whilst Judi’s teaching. Why do they have to shout at each other on the phone these Welsh boys rather than talk normally?

Lesson number 6 - his mobile phone. This is a work in progress.

Lesson number 7 - do not do manly things with the Workman and tools right outside the conservatory whilst Judi’s teaching. My heart nearly stopped and not from the manly view. Now you might be thinking of a scene from an advert for a well known fizzy drink … it wasn’t.

I could go on. That is actually what he says to me when I’m teaching him these lessons … that I go on. Hmmmph!

Acceptance goes a long way, particularly when adjusting to a whole new way of life. It has been great fun actually, if exasperating at times.

Then there’s the dogs. Barking, whilst one of the benefits of having a dog in order to alert the human to persons at the door, the bottom of the drive, entering Knaresborough, it is an inconvenience when teaching.

Things happen regularly during face to face teaching and we accept and move on. Examples include a vicar walking in, a caretaker walking in (neither accepted an invitation to join the class), a husband (not mine on this occasion) and 2 small children coming in to deliver something, a headmaster setting the burglar alarm whilst everyone is in relaxation, caretaker setting burglar alarm whilst everyone is in relaxation, a yogi alerting me to the presence of a strange man outside the room (I grab my phone and set off to explore and am surprised by my husband and I scream - not one of my prouder moments). Again, I could go on.

There was the time when teaching online that a neighbour’s hedge was being taken out and shredded. I had to move my whole set up to the living room between classes. An interesting experiment. The change of location affected my concentration having taught in the same spot for 7 months or more. And Tess, my beautiful older staffie collie x, barked when I was leading Oms and I jumped out of my skin. It’s on You Tube if you fancy a peek https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCj-1wk8o46Tx1U6iqqPGQNg/videos.

So barking dogs, sweeney todd impressions, internet issues, phones and so on should be taken in one’s stride. However, for me and you might relate, my senses are heightened to home noises and I tune in too readily. Feedback has been that attending Yogis don’t object to these noises, and in fairness to the dogs, they do quieten pretty quickly. Acceptance, acceptance, acceptance.

But YOUR furry friends, partners, children I find absolutely hilarious. Cats lying on heads, tummies, sitting right up against your camera, fur balls (say no more); dogs coming and going, sitting on you, sitting right up against the camera; children coming in - some breeze straight through, others have clearly forgotten that their parent is having ‘me’ time and look suitably abashed; partners bringing in fresh cups of tea - I get quite jealous especially if I’ve run out. I’m sure you have more stories - do tell.

These tales are here to stay and will be added to, as Zoom is part of our lives now and I intend to carry on teaching indefinitely online. I will return to face to face as well.

I forgot to mention, my granddaughter thinks Grannie goes to moon 6 times a week. Adorable. Zoom, zoom, zoom ………………..