No Plan
No plan is never an option when I am traveling. Even as a young driver, I belonged to AAA and would regularly visit my local branch to pick up maps and ask for advice. Those paper maps remained in my car(s) for decades, even after I discovered the fountain of knowledge known as MapQuest. Domestic or international compelled me to lay out careful instructions; yes, deviations could occur—a roadside stand appears or a much-needed bathroom break—but overall, the plan is what supported my knowledge and confidence that I could successfully navigate all of the pitfalls and opportunities that could be found in those adventures.
In a very crowded yoga studio one weekend this January, when so many of us made the decision to rediscover flexibility, our teacher tentatively shared: “I don’t have a plan or a lesson. I was waiting for inspiration and none found me. Those of you that come regularly know that I often include poems and a theme in each class and know exactly what we are doing to do every minute of this hour. But I don’t today and we are going to see what happens.”
As a teacher, I knew exactly what she was experiencing. All of us who have to put together lesson plans have experienced the lack of inspiration for a new, creative approach to convey the information. We all knew that we were there for a yoga class, just as our students will know they are in their seats to learn history or biology. And yet, the art of how to present, how to capture attention and effectively transfer knowledge, can often fail us as educators. Generally, the iron clad rule is to never, ever share your lack of inspiration with your students. Fake it until it “appears” — that is the operating principle.
In that crowded yoga studio, a vulnerability was shared with us — and what transpired was pure magic. Our teacher began our trip with no plan, yet led us to an hour-long discovery of both fluid movement and self-reflection. Her years of teaching and thousands of hours of training allowed her to create an experience that pushed all of us to stretch both our bodies and our imaginations, and to ask the question: What more could I do if I was open to not knowing the next step?
This lack of planning is never recommended for any teacher. The reality is that this could only happen because our instructor possessed a rolodex of muscle memory lessons that allowed her to be in the moment yet deftly navigate us. New instructors and presenters: Be aware that these moments only happen after years of training; even then, they can end in disaster. But—every now and then—there will be those spontaneous moments of magic, and we will delight in both our abilities and the connection it creates within our classroom. Until then, use a map… but remember to allow for a little magic to be discovered.