This is a pretty personal post, difficult to share my current vulnerabilities. But it is real
Four (or so) years ago my yoga practice was awesome! My execution of postures may or may not have been awesome … but my practice was incredible. I had time. I was disciplined. I was motivated. I felt good, most of the time. I was steadier than I realized at the time - mentally, emotionally, and physically. I realize it now, in retrospect, because right now, I am quite a mess. Since the times of my awesomeness, I have had two pregnancies and the resulting two kids. As mentioned in the previous blog, parenthood changed me - wiped me clean, stripped me down, essentially broke me. My sense of self was shattered, all identifying markers demolished. Shiva the destroyer did a number on me. Including my yoga practice. My youngest is now a year and a half and I am nearly back to practicing the progressive ashtanga sequences that I did BC (Before Child) And it is far from awesome. Each day is a struggle to claim practice time and from there claim the luxury of practicing at the shala with a teacher. Once on my mat, it is a struggle to claim strength, focus, steadiness, endurance, surrender, focus, commitment … did I say focus? The teacher I am working with is a peer, a friend, and someone I have known for a long time. He has been moving me through the practice at a pretty good pace, knowing what my BC practice was. I trust him completely and surrendered to his guidance, accepting postures as he gave them to me, progressing as he saw appropriate. Some of the old challenges were hard again, but I was familiar with that work. Other postures were surprisingly easy. My greatest obstacles have always been related to strength. And this time around is no different. The postures themselves are integrating well enough, or at least as I would have expected. It is the overall tone and particularly the transitions that are a disaster. I am fairly easily distracted and fatigue sets in way too early. I am not feeling ease and steadiness, at least not in the way that I used to.
Last week I had to force myself out of bed and to the shala after an awful previous day, just one of THOSE days. I didn’t want to practice, I didn’t want to have to move my body, be aware of myself, feel myself, be with myself. I was the last person I wanted to be around that morning. But I went and I got on my mat. I just kept moving thru, one breath, then the next, one pose, then the next. Some tears were there, but I told myself to just get thru the practice. I knew it was the only thing that could shift my attitude. After wards I spoke to him about my feelings of self-doubt, wondering if I should really be doing the practice to this advanced level, that was struggling and felt that it must look horrendous. He was encouraging, saying, in his particularly charming way that he relates the postures to herpes - once you have them, they are never really gone. Ha ha! It echoes what I have also thought. I believe in the strength of muscle memory and established patterns in the nervous system etc. I have experienced it myself as I try a posture for the first time in 4 years and it seems surprisingly accessible. He assured me that my arctic was fine, to just keep doing the work.
A few days later, I find myself agonizing over this concept in a different context. I was driving to teach at 5 am following a long night of frustration with very little sleep, caring for my sick 3 year old. I was feeling like a far less than awesome parent, in fact, a less than awesome human being. What happened to me? I thought back to that girl with the incredible practices. I used to be so even in temperament. I used to be able to see the world around me with a certain mindfulness, maybe a hint of that non-attachment we all talk about in yoga. I intentionally tried to use Patanjalic principles in my relationships, in the way I interacted with my world. I was working the Yamas and Niyamas. I used to read and contemplate philosophical concepts then discuss them with my contemporaries over chai. (ok, it was usually a cafe con leche) I used to purposely work on becoming a better me. I meditated. I meditated! Crying in my car for an hour that morning, I grieved for the loss of that life and I wondered … if the asanas were always relatively available to us once integrated then how much of those subtler practices are also available. Does it work that way? I want a strong heart and steady mind. I want peace and serenity (not in my home - that would be an impossible request) within. I want to be a better mom. I want to be a better partner. I want to be a better person … again.
I think about what Guruji used to say about parenthood, about it being 7th series yoga. He is also believed to have spoken to students about taking their yoga out into the world. It is easy to have a strong and steady practice in Mysore, India where all you have to do is your yoga. There are no other obligations or responsibilities. The only distractions are the ones you choose and even that, on reflection, offers insight and an opportunity for self-study, a yogic practice. Taking your practice out into the world is the real challenge. Can you do all of that, what the world requires of you, and maintain your focus, your stability, your commitment and discipline, your buttery back bend? I am finally really understanding all of that - 7th series, householder yoga etc. Yoga is hard! It is hard to live spiritual /philosophical principles when you are sleep deprived, missing a shower, subsisting on coffee, the crumbs and leftovers from your children's snacks and meals, (oh and wine) When you’re just trying to make sure your little wild things don’t break anything, don’t spill too much, don’t hurt each other, but also have fun, explore their world, and learn something. When you are trying to stay at least a little connected to you partner, make eye contact throughout the day, maybe a kiss or two, and if your are lucky a good conversation every once in a while ( I am not going to say anything about the work it takes to avoid arguments) When you have a million phone calls to make, paperwork to fill out, schedules to remember, shopping, cooking, dishes, laundry, cleaning . . . Daily life is hard enough, where is the space to do the spiritual work?
I am realizing that it is, in part, a matter of simply making the choice, day after day, to carve out those two hours on my mat. Start there. I also need to claim my meditation practice again, establish consistency, commit. Beyond that - and this is the seventh series part, the part I am sure I don’t have figured out - approaching the day with the same intentions, perspective, and purpose that I did when everything was so easy. The only things that have changed are the things that are outside of myself. My SELF remains. The me that was once connected, mindful, conscious, is still there. This is my yoga: It is easy to have a spiritual practice and live philosophically when all you are responsible for is yourself. Now do that work with all of this other stuff too, and by the way, try to raise spiritually conscious kids while you’re at it.
Photo is during an attempt to capture a beautiful bakasana selfie - Ha!
Four (or so) years ago my yoga practice was awesome! My execution of postures may or may not have been awesome … but my practice was incredible. I had time. I was disciplined. I was motivated. I felt good, most of the time. I was steadier than I realized at the time - mentally, emotionally, and physically. I realize it now, in retrospect, because right now, I am quite a mess. Since the times of my awesomeness, I have had two pregnancies and the resulting two kids. As mentioned in the previous blog, parenthood changed me - wiped me clean, stripped me down, essentially broke me. My sense of self was shattered, all identifying markers demolished. Shiva the destroyer did a number on me. Including my yoga practice. My youngest is now a year and a half and I am nearly back to practicing the progressive ashtanga sequences that I did BC (Before Child) And it is far from awesome. Each day is a struggle to claim practice time and from there claim the luxury of practicing at the shala with a teacher. Once on my mat, it is a struggle to claim strength, focus, steadiness, endurance, surrender, focus, commitment … did I say focus? The teacher I am working with is a peer, a friend, and someone I have known for a long time. He has been moving me through the practice at a pretty good pace, knowing what my BC practice was. I trust him completely and surrendered to his guidance, accepting postures as he gave them to me, progressing as he saw appropriate. Some of the old challenges were hard again, but I was familiar with that work. Other postures were surprisingly easy. My greatest obstacles have always been related to strength. And this time around is no different. The postures themselves are integrating well enough, or at least as I would have expected. It is the overall tone and particularly the transitions that are a disaster. I am fairly easily distracted and fatigue sets in way too early. I am not feeling ease and steadiness, at least not in the way that I used to.
Last week I had to force myself out of bed and to the shala after an awful previous day, just one of THOSE days. I didn’t want to practice, I didn’t want to have to move my body, be aware of myself, feel myself, be with myself. I was the last person I wanted to be around that morning. But I went and I got on my mat. I just kept moving thru, one breath, then the next, one pose, then the next. Some tears were there, but I told myself to just get thru the practice. I knew it was the only thing that could shift my attitude. After wards I spoke to him about my feelings of self-doubt, wondering if I should really be doing the practice to this advanced level, that was struggling and felt that it must look horrendous. He was encouraging, saying, in his particularly charming way that he relates the postures to herpes - once you have them, they are never really gone. Ha ha! It echoes what I have also thought. I believe in the strength of muscle memory and established patterns in the nervous system etc. I have experienced it myself as I try a posture for the first time in 4 years and it seems surprisingly accessible. He assured me that my arctic was fine, to just keep doing the work.
A few days later, I find myself agonizing over this concept in a different context. I was driving to teach at 5 am following a long night of frustration with very little sleep, caring for my sick 3 year old. I was feeling like a far less than awesome parent, in fact, a less than awesome human being. What happened to me? I thought back to that girl with the incredible practices. I used to be so even in temperament. I used to be able to see the world around me with a certain mindfulness, maybe a hint of that non-attachment we all talk about in yoga. I intentionally tried to use Patanjalic principles in my relationships, in the way I interacted with my world. I was working the Yamas and Niyamas. I used to read and contemplate philosophical concepts then discuss them with my contemporaries over chai. (ok, it was usually a cafe con leche) I used to purposely work on becoming a better me. I meditated. I meditated! Crying in my car for an hour that morning, I grieved for the loss of that life and I wondered … if the asanas were always relatively available to us once integrated then how much of those subtler practices are also available. Does it work that way? I want a strong heart and steady mind. I want peace and serenity (not in my home - that would be an impossible request) within. I want to be a better mom. I want to be a better partner. I want to be a better person … again.
I think about what Guruji used to say about parenthood, about it being 7th series yoga. He is also believed to have spoken to students about taking their yoga out into the world. It is easy to have a strong and steady practice in Mysore, India where all you have to do is your yoga. There are no other obligations or responsibilities. The only distractions are the ones you choose and even that, on reflection, offers insight and an opportunity for self-study, a yogic practice. Taking your practice out into the world is the real challenge. Can you do all of that, what the world requires of you, and maintain your focus, your stability, your commitment and discipline, your buttery back bend? I am finally really understanding all of that - 7th series, householder yoga etc. Yoga is hard! It is hard to live spiritual /philosophical principles when you are sleep deprived, missing a shower, subsisting on coffee, the crumbs and leftovers from your children's snacks and meals, (oh and wine) When you’re just trying to make sure your little wild things don’t break anything, don’t spill too much, don’t hurt each other, but also have fun, explore their world, and learn something. When you are trying to stay at least a little connected to you partner, make eye contact throughout the day, maybe a kiss or two, and if your are lucky a good conversation every once in a while ( I am not going to say anything about the work it takes to avoid arguments) When you have a million phone calls to make, paperwork to fill out, schedules to remember, shopping, cooking, dishes, laundry, cleaning . . . Daily life is hard enough, where is the space to do the spiritual work?
I am realizing that it is, in part, a matter of simply making the choice, day after day, to carve out those two hours on my mat. Start there. I also need to claim my meditation practice again, establish consistency, commit. Beyond that - and this is the seventh series part, the part I am sure I don’t have figured out - approaching the day with the same intentions, perspective, and purpose that I did when everything was so easy. The only things that have changed are the things that are outside of myself. My SELF remains. The me that was once connected, mindful, conscious, is still there. This is my yoga: It is easy to have a spiritual practice and live philosophically when all you are responsible for is yourself. Now do that work with all of this other stuff too, and by the way, try to raise spiritually conscious kids while you’re at it.
