2017-06-02
35 分钟So what about the money?
And how much is enough?
These are questions that I've wanted to explore, oh, for a long time.
And why not today?
You know, over seven years at the helm of Hell's Kitchen Yoga center and teacher certification school, I trained hundreds of people from around the world to teach yoga.
We had a fantastic faculty.
My two topics were, oddly enough, anatomy and money.
We were one of the only accredited programs that I knew of that included formalized business and practice building.
And when it came to nearly every other topic, our students were all smiles and hands on, playful, lit up, deeply engaged.
But when I started the, you know, here's how to make a living day, you could literally feel the room palpably recoil.
We trained people from all over the world, but the response was universal.
It turns out people drawn to the practice also tend to have, let's call it a very challenging relationship with money, especially the notion that they might ask for serious money in exchange for providing a service that's an outgrowth of a fundamental deep interest love, something that's supposed to be pure about healing and connection.
Money just makes it all dirty, they'd feel.
To which I'd respond, well, if you can't live comfortably teaching yoga, you'll have to work another job and teach yoga on the side.
Or very likely, stop teaching altogether.
And if your ultimate goal is to introduce as many people to the practice as possible, connect deeply with and help them, how is making a decision that stops you from being able to do that beneficial for you or for them?
So people tend to have a pretty funky relationship with money.
Money is often about something totally other than money.
Respect, love, proof, shame, so many other things with so much emotion attached to it.
There is an ethic that's become popular in the world of self help and purpose led careership.