I eagerly greeted my yoga student (whom I will give the name Carrie for this piece) at the door of the yoga studio. A teenager on the autism spectrum, I hear from her parents that yoga is one of the activities she runs out of the house to attend weekly (we have this in common).
Carrie is verbal, however her expressive language is limited. She responds well to yes/no questions and prefers verbal choices when responding to questions with multiple answers.
“Hi Carrie!”
“Hi Elizabeth.”
“It is so nice to see you Carrie!”
Carrie offers me a huge smile with a thumbs up.
Upon entering the studio, Carrie quickly takes her socks off and finds a comfortable seated position on her brightly colored-coded yoga mat.
After practicing with me for 1.5 years, Carrie knows the yoga routine by heart but still finds comfort in seeing the visual yoga schedule. I enthusiastically pick up the clip board and say, "Let’s review the yoga schedule!” Carrie, still smiling, nods her head yes! rapidly up and down.
1. Check-in
2. Breathe
3. Sun Salutations
4. Yoga Pose Cards
5. Head massage, hand massage, foot massage, squeeze and relax
6. Savasana
As a Special Educator for the past 15 years, I make strong attempts to pair visual information with verbal cues. My intention is to strengthen my learners’ receptive and expressive language skills. Research supports this strategy – ask any speech therapist. Lucky for me, I love talking . . . ask anyone who knows me. Luckily for Carrie, I realized that she no longer needed me to make my visual cues audible.
Something powerful washed over me this past Thursday while we practiced yoga together. My verbal cues to breathe in and breathe out were gracefully silenced by Carrie’s ability to breathe deeply on her own.
I realized her breaths were long and slow.
I realized her nostrils and abdomen were opening to the song of her own life force.
I realized she was there and now so too was I.
I noticed that the colorful visual yoga system spoke to Carrie's mind and body clearly.
I noticed how hard it was for me keep quite.
I noticed how I felt like I was getting paid for doing nothing.
I noticed how Carrie’s repetitive self-talk disappeared.
I noticed when Carrie whispered “Peace” on the inhale and “Love” on the exhale during savasana - something I had taught her but failed to hear during many of those Thursday afternoons together.
I noticed how beautiful it felt to let Carrie be herself.
Silence never felt so good.
