Teaching, trauma and facing fears

How We Face Our Fears Every Day: Yoga as Our Training Ground

Understanding Triggers

Over the Christmas period, I had the privilege of attending a teacher's course in London. There was a ‘Vegas rules’ agreement for all participants—what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. So, I’ll only share that one session focused on a trauma-informed approach to teaching yoga. This framework was incredibly useful for considering the well-being of all students. Anyone who has taught for even a little while knows that difficult situations can arise with students, and this insight can be invaluable.

In previous blogs, I’ve mentioned how many in the yoga community often question whether yoga—especially Ashtanga—attracts “troubled souls.” Or at least, whether it draws more of them than other activities. Personally, I’ve always thought that a Shala is merely a reflection of the world at large. However, I understand that yoga is perceived to offer healing, which may naturally attract a higher proportion of people seeking that.

One key element of the framework was about ‘triggers.’ It’s crucial to be aware of what might trigger a student and to tread carefully around those issues.

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What Are We Actually Doing?

This concept triggered something in me. It connected to a topic I’d been mulling over for some time. What are we actually doing when we teach? (I’ve discussed this topic at length in a previous blog.)

Sure, we show new poses, correct them, and adjust students. That’s teaching, right? But often, as a Mysore teacher, it feels like teaching is also about deliberately pressing students' buttons. Is part of our job to trigger them?

Let me clarify: I’m not trying to upset anyone or cause harm. What I mean is that teaching often involves helping students face their fears.

To be clear, trauma is not the same as fear, or even extreme fear. But in both this workshop and the yoga world, these terms are often used interchangeably.

As a Mysore teacher, we confront students’ fears daily. This can manifest in obvious poses—like inversions and deep backbends. Think about drop backs, Kapotasana (dove pose), Pincha Mayurasana (peacock feather pose), and Sirsasana (headstand). For some students, even a basic bind can be intimidating if they’ve never put their body into that shape before. I’ve noticed that those who struggle the most with Supta Kurmasana (sleeping tortoise pose) often aren’t physically restricted; they’re just terrified.

As teachers, we can avoid these situations. We can find workarounds to prevent causing fear. Sometimes, that’s the right choice—to give students the time and space they need.

But ultimately, if a student wants to learn to do something they fear, they must face that fear. Our role as teachers might be to encourage them to stand on the edge of the cliff alone. Initially, they might need our full support, standing by their side a few steps back. Gradually, we help them step closer until they can look out across the horizon independently.

Facing fear when learning to drop back

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Fury: Facing Our Demons

Some of you might know I’m a bit of a Salman Rushdie fan. The first book I read by him—Fury—was devoured while backpacking in my 20s. To be specific, it was during a slow boat ride down the Mekong to Luang Prabang in Laos. Trust me, the reality was far less romantic than it sounds.

Released in 2001, the book is set in pre-9/11 New York and eerily prophetic in diagnosing America’s ills before the Twin Towers fell, leading to the war on terror and everything that followed.

One specific quote from this book has always stuck with me:

‘He had to go through it all over again: the shaking, the pounding, the gasping for air, the shower, the darkness, the breathing, the visualisation. No drugs; he had put them off-limits, and he was also avoiding head doctors. The gangster Tony Soprano might be going to a shrink, but fuck him, he was fictional. Professor Solanka had resolved to face his demon by himself. Psychoanalysis and chemistry felt like cheating. If the duel were to be truly won, if the demon that possessed him was to be wrestled to the mat and consigned to hell, it had to be just the two of them going at it, ass naked, without restraint, in a bare-knuckle fight to the death.’

For clarity, my views on therapy and antidepressants are more nuanced than this. I’ve seen both the benefits and side effects of each. Different things work for different people in various situations.

What resonated with me is that if something needs to change, it can only be done one way: by standing up and facing the issue directly. (Or as Rushdie puts it: 'wrestled to the mat and consigned to hell’). This quote illustrates the idea with a colour that only he can.

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Staying Calm: The Yoga Connection

One argument I’ve encountered numerous times regarding the purpose of yoga asana is that our practice helps us learn to remain calm in stressful situations. Personally, I’m a bit unconvinced that this was the original intention; it seems more like a beneficial by-product. However, there are clear parallels, and whether intended or not, the benefits are real.

1.2 (yogaś citta-vrtti-nirodhah) — Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind.

During practice, we often place our bodies in stressful situations. These can be poses that involve actions we rarely perform in daily life or movements the body isn’t naturally inclined to do (like inversions and deep backbends). It’s common for students to panic during their first attempts at challenging asanas, wanting to exit the pose immediately. Their heart rate spikes, and their breath becomes rapid and uncontrolled. Just think about how many students feel during their first drop backs. Yet, over time, they learn to hold a pose without fear and with a calm, steady breath.

This is the essence of practice. We face our fears repeatedly until they no longer intimidate us. We become the masters of our fears rather than their victims.

Those who have practiced with me over the years know one of my 'shala rules' (I try not to have too many) is that I don’t allow students to use a wall to learn Sirsasana (headstand). I don’t do this out of cruelty or dogma; I find it’s the quickest way for students to learn to stand on their heads. Of course, if a student has a physical constraint, using a wall is perfectly fine. But for most students, the issue is fear. The only way they’ll learn to do a headstand unsupported is to face that fear.

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Attraction & Aversion: The Dance of Fear

We’re all drawn to things we like and do our best to avoid those we don’t. This isn’t new. It’s even discussed in the Yoga Sutras:

2.7 (Sukha-anushayi rāgah) — Attachment is that which dwells upon pleasure.

2.8 (Duhkha-anushayi dveshah) — Aversion is that which dwells upon pain.

Most people would rather eat chocolate than carrots, even though the health benefits are clear. Similarly, most people will seek a comfortable posture they know they can do rather than tackle a scary inversion or backbend.

As teachers, isn’t it part of our role to help our students face their fears?

Initially, this might mean finding a workaround. It may involve providing total support. Over time, that support can be reduced until the student is independent of you—and, more importantly, free from fear.

Many people spend their entire lives avoiding anything that scares them. But if you want to use yoga to transcend this, you’ll need to confront your fears. To reduce or remove the citta vrittis, one way or another, it will involve someone pulling a trigger.

Conclusion: Embracing Fear

In the end, facing our fears is a journey. It’s not just about the physical practice of yoga; it’s about the mental and emotional growth that comes with it. So, the next time you step onto your mat, remember: it’s okay to feel fear. Embrace it, face it, and let it guide you to new heights.

Free Breathing Ashtanga Yoga - Berlin