Tuesday Truth: In Search of the "Perfect" OM

When it comes to teaching yoga, I'm a perfectionist. [Surprise, surprise, right?]

That doesn't mean that my classes are always perfect (far from it!), but it does mean that I want them to be--I'm striving for perfect, even though I know that I shouldn't be, even though I know that there's no such thing, and even though I know that this striving isn't very yogic of me (blah, blah, blah...).

It's a problem. But, the truth is that I'll obsess over the smallest error in my teaching. If I mess up a cue, if I say something weird, if my mind blanks for a second, I'll think about it for the rest of the class, and sometimes, for even longer than that. Intellectually, I know it doesn't matter. I know the class doesn't care, that everyone has already forgotten about it, that it shows my humanity (again, blah, blah, blah...) but still, it's in my nature to obsess. 

[Yes, I'm working on it. Letting go is a constant intention for me.]

Along these perfectionistic lines, I have an OM issue. Again, totally unyogic, I'm aware of that, but I want to talk about it, to see if others can identify. My OM issue? I want it to be perfect, and often, it isn't. 

Lets back up for a second: What is OM?  My favorite definition is that it's the "universal sound that unites us all," or the sound of the universe. Some teachers choose to chant it at the end of their classes, and some do not; I chant it because I love the connection and energy that it creates in the room. I really do find that this sound does unite us as a group, and I think it is a beautiful way to close the practice. 

I know that chanting OM turns some people off, and I understand why, but I also think that it can become a really wonderful ritual to close out a long and intense practice. So, obviously, I love a harmonious OM--when everyone is on the same wavelength (or octave or range? I'm no musician so I don't know what to call it) and it sounds really lovely.

But often, that's not what happens. I start the OM, and some go lower, some go higher, everyone is different, and it comes out sounding a little cacophonous. As a level-headed individual, I know this is fine. But, as an obsessive teacher, I sometimes blame this imperfect OM on myself. Was my original OM off? Did I start it too high or too low? Was the tone too hard to match? And sometimes, the answer is yes, it is my fault, and that's the issue here. 

One of my fellow teachers told me once that he had "lost [his] OM" for a while (I know, such a cliche yogi conversation, but this kind of stuff is important!). He thought it might have to do with a blockage in his throat chakra, which is related to how you express yourself to others, and he was honest about feeling thrown off balance when it happened. 

When he told me this, I felt for him, as I understood that feeling--the feeling that you are leading the class through an unharmonious OM--and I understood that finding your OM is an important journey for a yoga teacher. Have I lost you yet? I hope not.

So anyways, yogi friends and fellow teachers, here's what I'm wondering right now: 

1. Is there such a thing as a perfect OM? If it's the universal sound, doesn't it sometimes sound off, confused, discordant? Is that okay? 
2. Am I the only one thinking about this? Do harmonious OMs at the end of class vs. unharmonious OMs have an affect on you, too? [Or, how does it feel to you when you take a class and the OM at the end isn't perfect? Do you feel thrown off? Does it matter?]
3. As a teacher, what do you do when you feel that you've "lost your OM," or that you're leading your class down the road of a discordant OM? 

I'd love to hear your thoughts, if you have anything to share. 

But no matter what, don't worry, because until I figure out what all of this means to me (or says about me), you'll still be able to find me OMing it out at the end of my classes--sometimes out of tune, sometimes a little more "on," but always overthinking it...

[Welcome to my life.]