1.06.2010

How yoga humbled me. Again.

I had a run-in with my ego yesterday. Not sure who won.

Here's the situation:
Twice a week I take a Level 2-3 class at AYM with Allison. This intermediate class adds more challenging postures from the first and second series into the practice. As a dancer, Allison also likes to experiment with movements that explore how the body moves.

For the last few months however, the energy high that I usually leave the class with has slowly turned into post-practice bouts of anxiety, frustration and anger.

What I only admitted to myself yesterday is that the class is too advanced for me.

Structurally, my arms are short and my hips are tight, so many of the arm balances and bends we do are physically uncomfortable. And then there's the issue of my back end with its layer of extra insulation (ahem).

For example, buhjapidasana may be fun for some, but the only way I could get into it was if my legs were dislocated. I can inch my way into the preliminary posture, but as with many other postures we are encouraged to learn, my body will not cooperate beyond a certain point.

I'm just not there yet. I may never get there.

On Tuesday night, at the end of another frustrating practice, I wasted my whole savasana away wondering how I was going to lose 10lbs so that I could get into those perfect poses.

"Hello?" I interrupted my stream of thought, "Don't you practice yoga to reduce the monkey brain chatter? This practice isn't cutting citta vritti, it's feeding it."

So I think I need to take a break from Allison's classes for a while - at least until I can restore my pool of loving kindness. I will miss her and her methods, but here's the big problem:
  • How to tell my teacher - a woman I respect and admire - that I can't take her class anymore without feeling like a failure? Like I didn't try hard enough?
Allison will understand why, I know that much, but it's still going to be hard. I was loathe to mention this problem to anyone because I'm a yoga teacher so I should have already learned these lessons, right?

But what two kind, beautiful ladies reminded me of today is that the lesson (whatever it may be) will continue to be re-learned throughout life. What's important is my heart's openness to recognizing that feeling and then letting it go (with compassion) each and every time.

5 comments:

roseanne said...

great post! as a fellow shorty (and i mean that with the greatest respect!), i also have problems with arm balances. there are some things that my body, no matter how much i practice, is not capable of doing.

i've caught myself thinking those "if i lose 10 pounds i'll make it into that pose" thoughts. it's crazy, b/c part of the reason why i practice yoga is to relate to my body in a more compassionate way.

anyway, kudos to you for loving yourself enough to acknowledge where you are. it can be hard on the ego to "go back" a level. but your body, and your mind, will be happier!

Curious Traveller said...

The fear of being viewed as a failure (and the fear of actually being one) is something that limits me, too. What I always wind up learning, when I get over that fear, is that no one ever judges me as harshly as I judge myself.

And that's disturbing. I don't like spending time with people who judge others, and actively distance myself from those who do. So why is it somehow "okay" when I beat myself up? Why do I think I deserve it?

A yoga instructor would listen to this student's expressions of her feelings and react with loving kindness. You are the student who needs that reaction and also the yoga instructor who can give it. And it's wonderful to see you realize this.

ad said...

As I reread everything this morning, I'm actually grateful that I have these moments of doubt.

Because - just maybe - an ongoing confrontation with my ego means that I'll keep learning and keep asking questions and keep growing.

If I stop asking questions, how can I learn, right?

Brooks Hall said...

Yes, ask questions!

peawry said...

What a great post! Chinese, Thai, Indian, Italian, Greeky? Can't wait to see you.