I was teaching a free yoga class at an outdoor gear store in Edmonton when a woman walked in with a toddler and an infant. Not a sleeping infant in a carrier. Not a toddler quietly coloring in the corner. These children were alert, wandering around the room, making noise while I was trying to lead a class.
If you’ve ever taught yoga, you know exactly what happens in your nervous system when something like this unfolds. You go into high-arousal mode. Your brain starts working overtime: How do I handle this? How do I not embarrass this woman? How do I give everyone else in the room a good experience?
This is the reality of teaching to unpredictable audiences. And after 20 years of teaching, including several years touring the country as an ambassador for prAna, teaching free yoga at REI and MEC stores, I’ve learned a few things about staying composed when you truly don’t know who’s going to show up.
The Reality of Teaching in Community Settings
When you teach in community settings, corporate environments, or any situation where you don’t control enrollment, you’re going to encounter students who don’t know the conventions of a yoga class. They’re not trying to be difficult-they just don’t know what they don’t know.
At those REI and MEC store events, sometimes people had signed up in advance. Sometimes they were just shopping for hiking boots and noticed there was a free yoga class happening. This is how I came to teach yoga to a lot of people wearing jeans.
On one of these stops, I cued something like, “Inhale, lift your knee.” Then I guess I moved on without cueing the exhale—maybe I was demonstrating, maybe I got distracted. Suddenly, someone gasped: “Are we allowed to exhale now?”
It was a shock. I had no idea anyone would take my breath cueing that literally-like they thought they weren’t supposed to breathe unless I explicitly gave them permission. That moment stayed with me. When you’re teaching people who are brand new to yoga, they might interpret your words in ways you never anticipated.
The Moment That Taught Me the Most
But the moment I think about most is Edmonton.
The woman brought a toddler and an infant to a free group yoga class. It became clear very quickly that the children’s father was not about to come and pick them up. They were just there. In the room. Making noise. The toddler was exploring.
I didn’t want to be rude to her. Everyone in Canada is notoriously polite, and I wanted to honor that. But I also knew this wasn’t giving the other students a good experience. They’d come for some stillness, some focus, and that was becoming impossible.
Here’s what saved me: I teach in chunks.
Why Structure Gives You Freedom
If you’ve followed my work on sequencing, you know I break classes into segments—warmup, standing, floor, finishing. Each chunk has a natural beginning and end. This structure isn’t rigid—it’s what gives you flexibility.
So I taught the first two chunks. Then, at the natural transition, I turned to her and said: “This would be a great time for you to bow out, because we’re about to get a lot more still and quiet, and it will help everyone relax if the children aren’t present.”
She left gracefully. The class continued. Everyone got what they came for.
Without that structure, I would have been stuck either letting the disruption continue or interrupting mid-flow to address it-neither of which serves your students. The framework isn’t about following a rigid script. It’s about having enough structure that you can respond with grace when the unexpected happens.
Four Principles for Teaching Unpredictable Audiences
First, expect the unexpected. Especially if you’re teaching in community settings, corporate environments, or any situation where you don’t control enrollment, you will encounter students who don’t know the conventions. Approach them with curiosity, not frustration.
Second, structure is your friend. When you teach in chunks or segments, you create natural transition points. Those transitions become opportunities-to check in, to redirect, to offer someone an exit, or simply to recalibrate the energy in the room.
Third, stay student-centered. In the Edmonton situation, my job wasn’t to protect my own ego or avoid awkwardness. It was to give the majority of students the experience they’d come for. That meant making a kind but clear request. The structure gave me the how; the student-centered mindset gave me the why.
Fourth, be explicit when you need to be. The “Are we allowed to exhale?” moment was a wake-up call. Don’t assume people know what you mean. If you’re teaching beginners-or people you’ve never met-err on the side of being more explicit. “Inhale here. Exhale when you’re ready. Your breath is always yours.”
Embracing the Unpredictable
Teaching is unpredictable. That’s part of what makes it alive. But you don’t have to be at the mercy of whatever walks through the door.
A clear structure and a student-centered mindset will carry you through almost anything—even a toddler wandering through your savasana.
The teachers who thrive in unpredictable environments aren’t the ones who never face disruptions. They’re the ones who have systems that give them flexibility to respond with grace. Structure isn’t about controlling every moment-it’s about creating enough stability that you can adapt when things don’t go according to plan.
Want to hear more stories from my years of teaching in unpredictable settings? Listen to the full episode of Yoga Teacher Confidential: You Get Who You Get.
