As the children enter the room for yoga, we exchange smiles and hellos, and then they immediately start making requests for class. Sometimes they want to do a specific pose, like camel. Sometimes they ask me to play a specific song, like "Beautiful Day" by Aykanna. But most of the requests are for "Spaghetti Arms." (One group also consistently asked for "Doritos." See my P.S.)
Spaghetti Arms isn't a wacky yoga game or a kidified yoga pose. It's a measure of relaxation -- and they LOVE it. While the children are lying in savasana, a.k.a final relaxation or corpse pose (a name they find scandalous), I walk around the room and check to see if their arms are stiff or relaxed like wet noodles.
Often a few kids double-check, before settling into savasana, that I am indeed going to remember Spaghetti Arms. This is adorable, by the way. I should mention that these are not teeny, tiny unguarded, 4-year-old dumplings that I teach. These are 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 year-olds. Big 8th-graders asking for Spaghetti Arms. Does that melt your heart as much as it melts mine?
Spaghetti Arms isn't a wacky yoga game or a kidified yoga pose. It's a measure of relaxation -- and they LOVE it. While the children are lying in savasana, a.k.a final relaxation or corpse pose (a name they find scandalous), I walk around the room and check to see if their arms are stiff or relaxed like wet noodles.
Often a few kids double-check, before settling into savasana, that I am indeed going to remember Spaghetti Arms. This is adorable, by the way. I should mention that these are not teeny, tiny unguarded, 4-year-old dumplings that I teach. These are 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 year-olds. Big 8th-graders asking for Spaghetti Arms. Does that melt your heart as much as it melts mine?
I assure them that I will remember; then they settle. Such a beautiful thing -- settling! Nothing's coming at them; nothing's being demanded of them; they're not rushing anywhere. I give them a few minutes and a little guidance to sink in to the experience. Then, I make my rounds.
I whisper, "Is it OK if I lift your arm?" The student nods. I lift his/her arm. Sometimes it's a wet noodle. Sometimes it's not. Regardless, I say, "beautiful," or "nice," or "wonderful" because I don't want to correct. They're lying down with the intention to relax, and that's a beautiful thing.
Here's another phenomenon around relaxation that tickles me: Once a student fell asleep during relaxation. When we all noticed that she wasn't sitting back up with the rest of us, I instructed everyone to stay in silence and let me wake her up because it was very important not to startle her. I asked them to tiptoe around and roll up the mats quietly and leave the lights off. They respected that and protected the girl, as I gently woke her. Since that day, I usually have one kid who pretends to fall asleep because they want the same treatment. I totally play along and tell everyone to protect the sleeping child, and we do.
Do you see what I mean? This is heart-warming stuff!
I know I sound like a total cornball because I'm so purely enthusiastic, but I can't help it. Don't make the mistake I made and wait 20 years into adulthood to teach kids yoga. Start now. It'll do the heart good!
P.S. Doritos: What they meant when they requested Doritos is Burritos. A burrito is an exercise that involves rolling yourself up in your mat. One kid mis-spoke once and requested Doritos and it stuck. Do I have to point out how cute that is? I learned how to instruct this pose in a training called: Yoga for ADHD, Autism, and Children Who are Differently-Abled (part of Shakta Kaur Khalsa's Radiant Child teacher training offerings), but it's clearly for EVERY child because they LOVE it! Like Spaghetti Arms, I suspect that they're attracted to the care and coziness of it.
I whisper, "Is it OK if I lift your arm?" The student nods. I lift his/her arm. Sometimes it's a wet noodle. Sometimes it's not. Regardless, I say, "beautiful," or "nice," or "wonderful" because I don't want to correct. They're lying down with the intention to relax, and that's a beautiful thing.
Here's another phenomenon around relaxation that tickles me: Once a student fell asleep during relaxation. When we all noticed that she wasn't sitting back up with the rest of us, I instructed everyone to stay in silence and let me wake her up because it was very important not to startle her. I asked them to tiptoe around and roll up the mats quietly and leave the lights off. They respected that and protected the girl, as I gently woke her. Since that day, I usually have one kid who pretends to fall asleep because they want the same treatment. I totally play along and tell everyone to protect the sleeping child, and we do.
Do you see what I mean? This is heart-warming stuff!
I know I sound like a total cornball because I'm so purely enthusiastic, but I can't help it. Don't make the mistake I made and wait 20 years into adulthood to teach kids yoga. Start now. It'll do the heart good!
P.S. Doritos: What they meant when they requested Doritos is Burritos. A burrito is an exercise that involves rolling yourself up in your mat. One kid mis-spoke once and requested Doritos and it stuck. Do I have to point out how cute that is? I learned how to instruct this pose in a training called: Yoga for ADHD, Autism, and Children Who are Differently-Abled (part of Shakta Kaur Khalsa's Radiant Child teacher training offerings), but it's clearly for EVERY child because they LOVE it! Like Spaghetti Arms, I suspect that they're attracted to the care and coziness of it.
P.P.S At Home, At Bedtime: Sometimes I use relaxation techniques with my daughter at bedtime, if she's having trouble winding down. We lie down together, inhale and, with the breath held, squeeze and tense our whole bodies (face, toes, everything) and then, with a sighing exhale, relax everything. We repeat this a few times. Feeling the extreme contrast of tension and relaxation helps her. Then, we do Spaghetti Arms and Legs on each other.