Photos courtesy Brooke Buchanan
A month ago I did something I never thought I would growing up. I decided to forsake my final semester of high school in Steamboat Springs, Colo.
My dad and mom are awesome. They raised my sister and I in the outdoors: backcountry skiing, mountain biking, running rivers. They encouraged us to take “calculated” risks to honor those things that fed our souls.
For some reason—many reasons actually—high school wasn’t feeding my soul. My soccer team, a small high school squad in Colorado, made the state championship my junior year and I had a blast competing with my friends. We were pretty good together. But something else was tugging at me. Something deeper, maybe? I don’t know.
But that’s one reason I decided to graduate early in December for a “gap” semester before college and work to earn my yoga teaching credential. The crux of this journey was self-discovery, and a month-long trip to Costa Rica to earn that certification at the School Yoga Institute’s 200-hour course near Santa Teresa on the Nicoya Peninsula, blending sadhana yoga and shamanism with something else I’ve always wanted to learn: surfing.
So I pitched it to my parents, kept my grades up, graduated early and, next thing you know, said goodbye to friends and family and stepped onto the airplane. I had no clue what tools I would need or what this whole “yoga course” thing might look like.
All I knew was that I had fallen in love with yoga the year before, infatuated with it mentally, physically and spiritually. And I realized I wanted to share my love of it with others through teaching. So I drew up the trail map to get to that point.
As my departure got close, my nervousness grew. Excitement mixed with fear and dread. I thought of everything that could go wrong while traveling alone internationally: getting kidnapped, robbed, sunburned, poisoned by local food, bullied, you name it. All of my fears, mind you. Then, like ripping off a Band-aid, I started my trek.
At first, traveling alone was scary. I felt like everyone was watching me, like I was under a spotlight. I started questioning who I was and what I believed as I walked through the different airports. But as I got into traveling—with all the waiting, lines, connections, taxis— I became less sensitive to people’s perceived judgments. I realized that I am not that big of a deal; everyone was paying attention to their own lives while I was wrapped up by own insecurities. Humbled and free, I had passed my first test.
Two days later, I reached my base camp and home for the next 25 days along with 18 other women from all over the world with incredible stories of their own (one runs a surf camp in Alaska, for example). Together, we toured the classrooms, dorms, yoga studio and beach of the center outside Santa Teresa. With solid swell in the water, monkey-filled palms and a fiery sunset on my first night, I was pretty excited.
I had only just met everyone, but after the opening ceremony it felt like I’d known them for years; we had an instant, deep connection. By 8 p.m. we were fast asleep, readying for our first 5 a.m. class.
The course was split into four, four-day blocks, each centered around a different theme. A day off would let us surf or explore before the next block began, bringing new lessons and ideas.
Block one revolved around the serpent cycle, teaching you to feel through your emotions. We were guided to understand why we feel the way we do. Each class, meditation or practice centered around understanding your own emotional setbacks. What did I need to let go of? What was I attached to?
We practiced holding space for one another to open up and share our darker sides. Like an onion, I was able to slowly peel away layers that no longer benefited my character, and find the light from underneath them. I also learned how to nurture and support my classmates while they did the same. In doing so, I discovered more about myself than I ever had before. On the last night we threw symbols of our burdens into a bonfire and with tears pooling, we watched them burn away, closing the space with a harmonious “Om.”
The next block revolved around the jaguar, which fears nothing, not even death. We were taught how to become free from the jungle of fear in our minds. I confronted my fears of failure, being alone, and not having control. Freshly liberated, I was able to step outside my boundaries and gain a new sense of confidence.
Next came the hummingbird cycle and embracing our creative sides. We practiced singing, playing guitar, drawing and writing poems. Yoga teachers, I learned, need to channel creativity. Instead of using words like “stand up” or “move,” make the flow more imaginative with phrases like “float your arms up to the sky” or “extend your energy.” This cycle helped me embrace my own creativity.
It closed with the eagle cycle, a totem representing universal understanding and the all-knowing. The eagle sees things for what they are, without any preconceived notions or judgment. I was guided to release my perception of what is “good” and “bad” and instead see the object for what it truly is. While teaching, I should view my students as equal to one another, controlling the class with balance and power. Outside of teaching, I feel like it kind of prepared me to maybe let go of my judgments toward other things as well. At least it was a start.
Getting your yoga credential isn’t easy. It isn’t supposed to be. You’re supposed to have moments of pain, some might say suffering, as you negotiate new poses and refine your own practice during the long hours in the studio. Along with the study of ancient philosophies, it’s a complete reset of everything you new before and forces you to do some serious inner examination. It wasn’t always fun. You end up relying on people to get you through a course like this. People you didn’t know before. I had a hard time saying goodbye to everyone who helped me along the way while I was there. I’m excited to share my yoga practice with others as a teacher. And I think I can go at it with a more open mind now.
Learn more about the School Yoga Institute, here.
