On Being the New Kid...

Before moving to the Cape, I was living life in my comfort zone. After about 3.5 years of working at Tranquil Space, teaching, and settling down in the DC/VA area, I felt like an integral part of a community. I knew my place, I knew my routine, I knew my people. 

Then, in one fell swoop (er, one long drive), I became the new kid again. Although I've been the new kid many times in my life, my comfortable situation in DC had allowed me to slowly forget how it felt to be the newbie.  

Last week, I was abruptly reminded of all of the sensations that come along with being thrown out of your comfort zone.

Each day, I went to a different yoga studio on the Cape, to get a feel for the yoga scene here and to get a taste of each studio's teaching style. As I entered studio after studio, unsure of myself, unsure of where I should put my belongings, of what I needed to do before class, of where I could find the restroom, I was reminded of how uncomfortable it feels to be out of your element. 

In the places where I was greeted warmly by a teacher or a front desk worker, it made all the difference. In the places where fellow students acknowledged me, said hi, or made a comment about the weather, I felt welcomed. In the studios where teachers introduced themselves before class, or checked-in after class, I felt more at home. 

But sadly, this was somewhat rare. And honestly, this surprised me. 

Last night, I went to a staff meeting at a yoga studio where I'll be teaching. People were kind and welcoming (this was one of the studios where I was greeted warmly!), and it felt really nice to know that I've already found a yoga community. But again, it was weird to be the new person. I felt unsure of myself, of what people might be thinking of me, of how I would fit into this community. 

After so many years of leading staff meetings, it was strange to sit back and be completely new, to be a part of a studio that I'm not running (or an integral part of), to be just one of the teachers (and a new one--an unknown quantity--at that!).  

It's humbling to be unknown, to be uncomfortable, to walk into a space and not know where to go, what to do, how to act. Whether it's a new job, a new yoga studio, a new CrossFit gym, a party with a new social group, or new member of a class, being the new kid is daunting. It takes courage. 

I've tried to sit back and observe, to let things unfold slowly, to practice my yoga and just be with my experience here in this new place, but it's difficult. My ego wants to assert who I am, what I do, how I could help. My ego wants people to know that I belong here, that I feel comfortable in yoga studios, that I was "someone" in my old community. But I know that's not how it works.

I have to be patient. I have to allow myself time to become a part of this population. I have to earn my stripes in this new place and feel things out. For someone has impatient as I am (one of the many reasons I practice yoga!), this is hard. 

As I've dealt with all of these conflicting emotions and thoughts over the past week, I've thought a lot about all of you--of this online community that we have together. Here, I still feel comfortable. This blog is the one place where I'm not new right now--where I've been around for a while--and I am so thankful for that. I had no idea how much it would mean to me to have this touchpoint as everything else around me has changed.  

So, since I do have this space to speak my mind, I want to take this opportunity to remind you guys of how important it is to be that welcoming presence for newbies--whether it be in your yoga classes, at work, in your neighborhood, or in your child's play group. 

If you can be that person who goes out of your way to make someone feel welcome, included, like they're in the right place/doing the right thing, it can make or break an experience. 

It can be the difference between someone thinking, "I'm going to be okay here" vs. "I've made a huge mistake." It can allow someone the space to relax a bit, to let their guard down, instead of giving them yet another reason to put up a wall.

I always knew that welcoming new students and new members of a community was important, but as I've become the new kid again, I've been hit over the head with this reminder again and again. As I slowly begin to teach yoga on the Cape, I vow to become a one-woman welcoming committee for any students new to my classes, new to the area, or new to yoga. 

I think we could all use a few more welcoming committees in our daily lives--wouldn't you agree?

To all of my fellow new kids out there: Hang in there! We can do it together! Someday we'll look back on this time and wish we could assure our former selves that everything will work out as it should...