Whisper #12Feet Before Hands

Some days, teaching feels light.
Words arrive on time.
The room listens.
You feel like yourself.

Other days, nothing lands.
You lose your words.
You feel watched.
Your body feels a half-second behind your voice.

Most teachers assume this means they’re not ready.
That they need better cues.
More preparation.
More confidence.

I used to think that too.

But every time I looked closely, the issue wasn’t skill.
It was where I was standing from.

When my attention floated upward — into thoughts, expectations, how I sounded — the room felt unstable.
Not because students noticed,
but because I did.

So I stopped trying to fix my words.

I felt my feet.

Not metaphorically.
Literally.

Weight through the heels.
Breath low.
Jaw unclenched.

Nothing mystical happened.
The room didn’t change.
I did.

And from there, everything simplified.

I didn’t need better cues.
I needed gravity.

Presence doesn’t come from saying the right thing.
It comes from being somewhere the body recognizes as safe.

That’s why you can forget a sequence and still hold a room.
That’s why silence can feel clearer than speech.
That’s why some teachers feel steady without trying.

They’re not performing from the head.
They’re standing in the body.

Yoga doesn’t begin when the class starts.
It begins the moment you stop reaching upward
and remember to arrive downward.

Feet before hands.
Always.

With Love & Stillness,
Saf