The practice is just a metaphor for life, and getting through the day: some things you're going to excel at, some things you'll never ever master even though you try and try and try, some things you'll be surprised that you suddenly bust out, and some things that you thought were mastered on some days you just ain't got at all. But it's all okay, because at the end of the day, no matter how fancy you are, or how novice your practice, it concludes in the same exact manner and the same exact pose for one and all.
I've got a number of yoga instructors whom I regard enormously – Jennifer Brilliant, Susan Orem, Dana Flynn, and Edward Vilga, to name a few. But in terms of how to live my life, I always try to live up to the example from when I was 19 of the random guy whose name I don't remember who pulled over and helped me change a flat tire.
I'll never forget that when I started teaching, it was the highlight of my day. It was better than my job at the time in advertising or anything else going on. I bring that knowledge to the mat when I open the class: If I've got a stubbed toe, a ceiling that just caved in back at the apartment, the deli was out of my favorite flavor of VitaCoco, these people are here with their own weight of the world. My responsibility is to help provide them the means for the duration of class to be a respite from their stress and to shock and amaze them that, yes, they can do amazing things with their bodies and souls.