Self-transformation: how dragons and fairies led the way to yoga, coaching and lifelong learning

As some of you may know, I recently completed a 200hour yoga teacher training course. I enjoyed it so much I signed up almost immediately to the more advanced 300hour course. One may wonder why when I already have a full-time job teaching and supporting academics and undergraduates; a young family; a school governor role and the embryonic start of a PhD to keep me busy!

I was set an assignment recently on the topic of self-transformation. It provides an answer of sorts to the question above and it links together some of the areas I am passionate about - coaching, lifelong learning and yoga - which is why I thought it would be appropriate to share it here. Transformation is a fluid, rather than a linear process and the 'final' state is very much a moving picture. It's quite personal so please be kind...

Self-transformation

When I was asked to think of transformation for this essay I did not really know where to start. Had I ever been transformed? I imagined a phoenix rising from the flames and said to myself – nope, that’s not me. Of course, I’ve suffered my own regrets, disappointments, life events etc but so has everyone else. It seemed like hyperbole to call it a transformation. According to the Cambridge English Dictionary, a transformation means ‘a complete alteration in the character or appearance of someone or something’. This reminded me of how, when I was growing up, I was transfixed by the makeovers on the morning chat shows my mum used to watch while I ironed our clothes. Someone looking flat, tired and frumpy would disappear behind a screen and then with a few sweeps of a makeup brush and a quick snip with the hairdresser’s scissors, they would emerge through lots of dry ice for all to see and admire. The most transformational part of all was how happy they seemed to feel afterwards. I was similarly in awe of the effect on those who were brave enough to say ‘tonight Matthew, I’m going to be…” on Stars in Their Eyes. The producers and makeover experts seemed to really see the individual in front of them and understand what would work for them.

I grew up reading stories of transformation – princes, magic spells, and feats of bravery would transform the main female character into a beautiful, witty and brave princess. Often, stories would tell me of sacrificial transformation – a common trope seemed to be the teenage girl learning that the only way she could save others was to lay down her life as she knew it and become a tree. On reflection, I wonder if this is one of the reasons I have always liked walking in the woods! As I read of characters turning into dragons; stone; or ice; becoming winged or turning invisible after stealing golden treasure, I would sit, hoping, for a transformation to happen to me. I felt uncomfortable in my life and in my skin. I found my solace in books and at school playtime I would sit in the ‘magic rings’ on the grass pretending to be a fairy.  I read about changelings and wondered if I was one.  

At school, I saw education as a way of transforming from what was expected of most children in my peer group. I was always a rule follower, not wanting to upset anyone or cause a fuss. When that did not work – I was still made homeless - I grew wings and became the first in my family to go on to university, where I studied English Literature. I did not know what I would do afterwards. I just knew I wanted to keep learning, to not live in the environment I was where boys used to brag about how little they read as a chat up line, and to open up possibilities. This became a transformation of sorts – I found friends, my own way of living, and I now felt comfortable talking about Norse mythology, Cottingley fairies and Danish fairytales.

My next major transformation involved moving from Yorkshire to and around London, facing repeated disappointment of job rejections; workplace bullying; repeated landlord problems; culminating in looking after my husband after he was involved in a life-threatening accident.  I’ve thought for years that my 20s were a time when I stalled, that nothing happened. In reality, I completed my Masters in Library and Information Science and developed my career. As I was also recovering from severe depression and mild chronic PTSD, I was not feeling or experiencing any joy from it. I did not celebrate my achievements, I was punishing myself and was not sure why. It was never enough. There were instances of potential happiness - meeting interesting people who introduced me to more books and to different lifestyles; bike rides around parks and rivers, running and so on. Bizarrely, and contrary to what I’ve just written, I would feel these small glimpses powerfully and be bowled over by their intensity. This feeling seemed too good to be true and so I was scared.

It was during this time in my life, I was introduced to yoga. As with previous exercise experiences I initially used it as a tool to beat myself up with. I was not good enough, was not flexible enough and could not do the poses. I never stayed for the relaxion part at the end – it felt silly, odd and my mind would not stay still. As I kept practising, I began (very slowly) to see it as something different. I began to feel calmer, more relaxed and more confident after each class. I started reading about it, I attended the Om Yoga Festival and attended classes teaching different variations. I was hooked. The confidence started to seep into other areas of my life. On the same day I won an Early Career award, I also took the risky leap of accepting a maternity cover position in a UK university.

I was ecstatic. I had made it.

Several restructures, temporary contracts and job changes later… I went through the physical transformations of pregnancy, emergency c-section and long-term breastfeeding. Yoga helped me to connect with myself, both mentally and physically, again and stop grinding at the grindstone without looking up, without having a purpose. The twin effect of yoga and some coaching I received as part of a Higher Education programme for women leaders helped me to keep my sense of self as I struggled to keep hold of it through the endless sleepless nights of cradling a baby who just would not sleep. They gave me the confidence to apply for the coaching qualification I had been wanting to do for a while.

This does not mean I have been in a state of non-ending bliss since. Far from it!

Completing my first 200 hour yoga teacher training qualification was tough – work was challenging at the time due to another restructure, I was having relationship problems and I was simultaneously looking after two small children due to the pandemic, one of whom has high needs. Finding the time to fit in and to process what I was learning was a task. I used to detest the way I sounded and 2020 has been like aversion therapy as I have recorded, edited and watched so many videos of myself. I eventually became accustomed to hearing my own voice and seeing my own face up but getting used to seeing my post c-section body on screen (plus pandemic over-eating) for the assessments, was a new challenge. Many a time I looked at it, went to the cupboard to eat my feelings, and thought ‘who am I kidding?’.

One of the many positives of being an academic developer and coach, and now a yoga teacher, is that I can use the skills on myself. I can recognise a feeling or thought more quickly, I can sit with it and can recognise which part of the Kubler-Ross change curve I am currently in. I am more able to recognise my own worth (sometimes – still not always). This does not make the emotions less powerful – when I found out I passed my 200hours I sobbed and let scalding tears run, uninhibited, down my face for a good twenty minutes. I think this awareness helps be in a better place to support my children and my work. Like an evangelical, I want to take what I’ve learned and apply it to everybody and everything I see. As a result, I now do voluntary mindfulness classes and incorporate yoga and coaching into writing retreats and the programmes and workshops I lead. However, I know I need to tread carefully as each person has their own transformation process. It will happen in that person’s own time and at their pace and, as a result, be much more effective. As a result of some of these experiences over the years, I am now looking at toxic university systems and how coaching can be used as one of the tools to transform staff wellbeing and student experience.

For me, the changes I have experienced and the sheer joy of doing the 200hour yoga course has led to me now taking part in the 300 hour. Even though studying and practising can be tricky in my current situation, it gives me the energy to deal with the less pleasant aspects of life. I see it as a constant companion who has seen me through many ups and downs and never judged. I’ve learned that transformation is not passive, (I’m not likely to meet a prince who recognises my worth while merrily walking in the woods) but also that actions do not need to be huge.  It does not need to be a large event – like a pandemic, or a bereavement, or a divorce – although of course these can be transformational. It can be a line you read in a book or a series of small incremental and consistent choices over a period of time. It can happen overnight or as a long, slow process. In my coaching, I refer to small shifts and tweaks in our practice. It can be as simple (or as difficult) as sitting on a mat and closing our eyes.

If you made it this far, thank you and well done! I'd love to hear your stories of transformation so please feel free to leave them in the comments.