I love Yoga. I really do. But maintaining a consistent practice takes a lot of effort. If Yoga had profile on Facebook, I'd probably change my status to show In A Relationship With Yoga because that's how it feels.
And, like any relationship, Yoga and I have our bouts of challenges.
There are days I look at my mat and wonder if I'm even up to the task. There are days I look at my mat and compare my want for sleep to the importance of practice, and it makes me feel like a fraud. Sometimes I look at my mat and wonder how it always looks so perky, so ready, so...just...there...waiting. Sometimes, I wonder what life would look like if I broke it off with Yoga, altogether.
Some days, I make excuses in order to avoid a date with my mat.
I have a headache.
I'm too tired.
I'm not in the mood.
I cheat on my mat. It's true. It happens.
And then comes a challenge.
And I remember why I'm in a relationship with Yoga in the first place.
There's something about this practice that allows a challenge to exist, just without the heavy-weighted fear. Fear exists but it doesn't control me in the same way it did a year ago.
Consistent practice takes faith...faith in the hardest person to have faith in sometimes. And, that would be Me. And, faith in yourself has to be enough, at some point, period, crooked crown and all.
This practice is like holding up a mirror to the deepest places inside of yourself and recognizing that sh*t's gonna get real, sometimes, and it's not always pretty. Chair Pose is my nemesis. We are not friends and when I'm already struggling with something, holding that posture feels like climbing Kathmandu during an ice storm, with nothing more than a toothpick. This posture forces me to face fear and bite it right back, fearlessly, though not always pretty. The Asanas challenge stamina, physical prowess and will. Meditation challenges the ability to turn off and just be. It challenges breath, comfort and it challenges the concept of being really, really, really comfortable with your Self. The ability to see thoughts swimming around up there, acknowledge them and then let them pass by is tough. There's a lot of stuff up there and it ain't all pretty.
My relationship with Yoga has forced me to face some of the uglier parts of me.
And I'm better off for it.
But it's also done something else...and it wasn't until someone asked me a truly special question that it came to me.
A few days ago, my friend Ryan and I spent a rare day doing everything we wanted, sans schedule, plan or time-constraint. Yoga might be a bit outside of his daily scope but he's open to my banter, none-the-less. And while it's not part of his lifestyle, he did, over breakfast, ask me what has become one of the most meaningful questions anyone's ever asked me about my personal experience with this practice.
How did it change you?
It's a simple question, really. But it was special because it wasn't a question about postures. It wasn't a question about where I buy my yoga pants or how much weight I've lost since I started this practice. It was a genuine question about how this practice has helped me. And it was open-ended, like, he kinda wanted to know.
And, the answer came out without a whole lot of thought.
My perspective is different than it was...
And in that space, right after he asked me, I realized how very present I was. I felt the sun on my arm. I saw that the sky was clear. I saw the cup of coffee in front of me. Redwoods against the backdrop of a blue sky popped with shades of green and the sunlight dripped in the space around me. The air smelled like fresh earth and the moment was so simple and easy.
I was Home.
Six months ago, I would have thought a moment like that was nice. But today, I let those kinds of moments fill me up. Today, the simplicity of those moments hold power that allow simplicity to drive my sense of happiness. I let these moments swim inside, taking up space. I let them exist in the present and take in the moment with awe. We move so damn fast, with so much expectation to make something of ourselves, to be something, to accomplish things, to run faster than the person next to us as evidence that our lives are packed with important things to do and even more important, people to meet. So much so, that when the time comes to sit, we feel pressure to rise back up again, in a quest to meet the next best thing, having missed the opportunity to actually feel and see the thing that exists right now...like air that tastes like sunshine and trees that light up, green against a blue sky, like the person, right in front of us.
I have dreams like anyone else. I have goals and I treasure those things that light me up, that push me to succeed and to conquer...but the path to achieving and attaining those things have changed. While I still continue to move towards my goals, I find myself walking towards them, now, rather than running; because when I walk, I'm able to see the sky for what it is. I'm able to actually taste my coffee rather than slam it for fuel. And I'm able to look at a person who's asked me such a simple question and feel gratitude for having been given the opportunity to acknowledge and describe a desire to appreciate the smaller things in life and feel an inspiration to write about it- and I'm able to actually say thank you. So, thank you, Ryan.
Change in perspective.
This is is why I will never break it off with Yoga. Yoga may not have changed me but it's made me brave. It's made me willful in my dedication to getting on the mat and grounding up in Chair Pose even when I'd rather cry...or sleep. It's allowed me to surrender to the things I cannot control and drives me to pursue the things that set me on fire. It's taught me to slow down and see. Feel and Be. It's the thing that never falters. It's the thing that makes me breathe, wake up and see the sun through the fog. It's the thing that reminds me, no matter what, find a reason to slow down, and, smile...always.
Thank you, Ryan for having asked the question.
And, like any relationship, Yoga and I have our bouts of challenges.
There are days I look at my mat and wonder if I'm even up to the task. There are days I look at my mat and compare my want for sleep to the importance of practice, and it makes me feel like a fraud. Sometimes I look at my mat and wonder how it always looks so perky, so ready, so...just...there...waiting. Sometimes, I wonder what life would look like if I broke it off with Yoga, altogether.
Some days, I make excuses in order to avoid a date with my mat.
I have a headache.
I'm too tired.
I'm not in the mood.
I cheat on my mat. It's true. It happens.
And then comes a challenge.
And I remember why I'm in a relationship with Yoga in the first place.
There's something about this practice that allows a challenge to exist, just without the heavy-weighted fear. Fear exists but it doesn't control me in the same way it did a year ago.
Consistent practice takes faith...faith in the hardest person to have faith in sometimes. And, that would be Me. And, faith in yourself has to be enough, at some point, period, crooked crown and all.
Photo courtesy of Pinterest
This practice is like holding up a mirror to the deepest places inside of yourself and recognizing that sh*t's gonna get real, sometimes, and it's not always pretty. Chair Pose is my nemesis. We are not friends and when I'm already struggling with something, holding that posture feels like climbing Kathmandu during an ice storm, with nothing more than a toothpick. This posture forces me to face fear and bite it right back, fearlessly, though not always pretty. The Asanas challenge stamina, physical prowess and will. Meditation challenges the ability to turn off and just be. It challenges breath, comfort and it challenges the concept of being really, really, really comfortable with your Self. The ability to see thoughts swimming around up there, acknowledge them and then let them pass by is tough. There's a lot of stuff up there and it ain't all pretty.
My relationship with Yoga has forced me to face some of the uglier parts of me.
And I'm better off for it.
But it's also done something else...and it wasn't until someone asked me a truly special question that it came to me.
A few days ago, my friend Ryan and I spent a rare day doing everything we wanted, sans schedule, plan or time-constraint. Yoga might be a bit outside of his daily scope but he's open to my banter, none-the-less. And while it's not part of his lifestyle, he did, over breakfast, ask me what has become one of the most meaningful questions anyone's ever asked me about my personal experience with this practice.
How did it change you?
It's a simple question, really. But it was special because it wasn't a question about postures. It wasn't a question about where I buy my yoga pants or how much weight I've lost since I started this practice. It was a genuine question about how this practice has helped me. And it was open-ended, like, he kinda wanted to know.
And, the answer came out without a whole lot of thought.
My perspective is different than it was...
And in that space, right after he asked me, I realized how very present I was. I felt the sun on my arm. I saw that the sky was clear. I saw the cup of coffee in front of me. Redwoods against the backdrop of a blue sky popped with shades of green and the sunlight dripped in the space around me. The air smelled like fresh earth and the moment was so simple and easy.
I was Home.
Six months ago, I would have thought a moment like that was nice. But today, I let those kinds of moments fill me up. Today, the simplicity of those moments hold power that allow simplicity to drive my sense of happiness. I let these moments swim inside, taking up space. I let them exist in the present and take in the moment with awe. We move so damn fast, with so much expectation to make something of ourselves, to be something, to accomplish things, to run faster than the person next to us as evidence that our lives are packed with important things to do and even more important, people to meet. So much so, that when the time comes to sit, we feel pressure to rise back up again, in a quest to meet the next best thing, having missed the opportunity to actually feel and see the thing that exists right now...like air that tastes like sunshine and trees that light up, green against a blue sky, like the person, right in front of us.
I have dreams like anyone else. I have goals and I treasure those things that light me up, that push me to succeed and to conquer...but the path to achieving and attaining those things have changed. While I still continue to move towards my goals, I find myself walking towards them, now, rather than running; because when I walk, I'm able to see the sky for what it is. I'm able to actually taste my coffee rather than slam it for fuel. And I'm able to look at a person who's asked me such a simple question and feel gratitude for having been given the opportunity to acknowledge and describe a desire to appreciate the smaller things in life and feel an inspiration to write about it- and I'm able to actually say thank you. So, thank you, Ryan.
Change in perspective.
This is is why I will never break it off with Yoga. Yoga may not have changed me but it's made me brave. It's made me willful in my dedication to getting on the mat and grounding up in Chair Pose even when I'd rather cry...or sleep. It's allowed me to surrender to the things I cannot control and drives me to pursue the things that set me on fire. It's taught me to slow down and see. Feel and Be. It's the thing that never falters. It's the thing that makes me breathe, wake up and see the sun through the fog. It's the thing that reminds me, no matter what, find a reason to slow down, and, smile...always.
Thank you, Ryan for having asked the question.
Photo courtesy of Brynna Bryant: Respiro Photography
