The place I teach my sunrise class at is a standalone building with exceptionally good acoustics. This means that, whenever I know (or think) I’m alone, I’m busting out a few (or more than a few) notes – especially at 6:30 in the morning, when I’m basically the only person in the entire plaza and none of my students come in until about 5 minutes before class starts (so 6:55 or later).
So I’m singing a diddy as I’m turning on the lights, unrolling my mat, even as I do my usual pre-class restroom break (because you try taking yoga on a full bladder, let alone teaching it).
I step out of the bathroom, it’s not even 6:40 yet, and I’m already five or six notes into Sia’s “Chandelier” when I hear:
…Brand new student (at least new for me), who arrived to class early.
The good news is that I react to absolute embarrassment around strangers with humor, and I was on fire for a good 30 seconds afterwards. And by “on fire” I mean, “I wish I was on fire to move the attention away from the fact that I accidentally put on an a cappella concert.”