The Art Of Persuasion

My studio has a nice little incentive where you accrue points towards free passes or a new towel simply by coming to class. Extra points are given for bringing along a new person or having someone say you recommended the studio to them. Slowly but surely the points build up and then you get this heightened sense of achievement with your teal blue with orange trim non-stick yoga towel, and life is infinitely better.

Still, in spite of my regular attendance other yogis are stocking up on towels left, right and centre because the people in their lives love them more than the *miserable people in mine. Their people are willing to give yoga a try and support their loved ones. Good people, in other words.

Apart from planting myself at the studio door like a museum guide – Hi, how are you? First time? Well, the quickest way to register is just to mention my name. Here’s the clipboard and form. That’s ‘J, A, N, E’. Got it? Awesome, enjoy! – I don’t see me getting that coveted rainbow hued number any time soon.

I’ve tried, I really have, but I think my evangelical approach back in the day has put people off. Because I fell hard and fast for yoga and possibly (definitely) came on a bit strong. If someone asked how I was, twenty minutes later with glazed eyes and a slightly sweating forehead they’d be slowly backing away and I’d still be enthusing over the joys of Camel pose. I mean it truly opens you up! You sort of fear it, but you love it!

Maybe a little too much, but it all came from a place of ‘sharing is caring’. All I hoped, even from a simpler time of no sweeteners, was that someone try a class, and be curious and inspired enough to come back. (I lie! I wanted them to love it! With bells on!)

At first my family were intrigued and encouraging, and while that hasn’t changed, any attempts at getting them in the studio with me have been a massive failure. My happy, shiny persona duped my husband and daughter to coming along once. Once each, once only.

My husband was into it and did really well up until Wind Removing pose, when it all fell apart. It seems all he took from that class was the ensuing hilarity of the name of the pose. (Anyway, he breathed through his mouth and that made me want to push him over a wee bit.)

My daughter was 14 at the time of her first and only class and still taking ballet lessons. She was sweetness and light when she moved through poses with a dancer’s ease and glaring at me in the mirror when they didn’t come without effort. Such a relaxing class! There’s nothing like a pair of invisibly folded arms and eyes rolled to the back of the head to send a clear message.

A few friends came. Once. They seemed to be very busy when I suggested it again. Oh, and my brother came with me once. My sisters gave it a go too. Once. My cousin came a few times! But he was already a yogi and preferred his beloved Astanga to what I was practicing.

I think I’ve burnt all my bridges. There’s nobody left and so, despite wanting to shout from the rooftops all that is good and great about yoga, I’m going to take the pressure off and play it cool. No accosting strangers at the studio door either, the towels will come.

And, really, those lovely people in my life know I will be their biggest cheerleader should they want to try Camel themselves. I would hardly say anything at all.

– Jane

*Of course, ‘miserable’ is obviously said with affection. I don’t really mean those nearest and dearest to me are miserable people. What I really mean is that they don’t love me as much as they should. That’s all.

What about you? Are you always encouraging people to come along to class? I’d love to know your success rate…

©The Yoga Connection