"They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:8
Yoga is hard.
If you’ve ever been to a yoga class, you learn pretty quickly that what looks like innocent stretching is in fact the work of the devil.
At first, it doesn’t feel this way. The instructor (or “Yogi”) will usually invite you at the beginning of class to “take a comfortable seat”. You think, “Great, I like comfort... I like sitting.” So, you sit innocently upon your spongy, giving yoga-mat, legs criss-cross or extended out before you. Next, your Yogi invites you to take a deep “cleansing” breath. They invite you to breathe deeply into your belly and extend your rib-cage. You think, “Breathing… Yes, this is good... Breathing is good.” Then, you may be asked to close your eyes and focus your “intention” for your “practice”, being reminded of one of the many tenets of yoga (or yamas as they call them) such as breath control, concentration, meditation and absorption.
This all seems very new-agey, yet pleasant and calm and kind. You feel grounded and in-tune with your body, mind and spirit... Don’t fall into this trap! Don’t give in to this lie! Your Yogi is lulling you into a false sense of security. They are getting ready, preparing for the torture you are about to endure... And it’s the worst form of torture: self inflicted!
I say this (well at least most of it) with humor. Of course yoga is a highly respected form of physical activity that involves poses and sequences (“flows”) that increase flexibility, strength and endurance. It is beneficial in increasing blood-flow and mobility. However, with all due sincerity, I go back to the thesis of my argument: Yoga is hard.
It is especially hard when you are doing it “right”.
Now, I might get some yoga-purists in a tizzy here, as I am often reminded that, to do yoga “right” is to do yoga the way that is “right” for your body.
However, I will counter that if a pose requires you to stand on one foot, then twist your right leg around your body and rest your foot behind your head, while instead your practice finds you laying on your mat in a sweating, weeping heap, gasping for breath and trying not to vomit, then you are not actually doing yoga the “right” way... at least not that pose. Sure, maybe laying, sweating and weeping while controlling your gag-reflex is actually your own personal version of Downward Dog or Child’s Pose. To that effort, then well done you.
In November, I challenged myself to attend yoga class twice a week for the month. I found some classes at a local yoga studio that came highly recommended by several friends. I signed up for the classes and arrived for my first class in November with my yoga-mat neatly tucked under my arm.
This class was amazing! “This is so easy,” I thought. “I really know what I’m doing,” I thought. The very kind and informative Yogi would give instruction for each pose and flow as we worked through the hour. I was sweating! I was stretching! It felt great!
I began to notice, however, that our instructor paid particular attention to me, gently and graciously offering me pointers and corrections to my form. I was thankful for the added instruction and appreciated her personalization, adding my name when she was offering me guidance. I left the class feeling confident. I was energized for my next experience.
By the week of Thanksgiving, I was still enjoying my bi-weekly yoga classes, but something had changed. The poses and flows had become more difficult than they were in the beginning. I would have thought with all the added instruction I was getting “better”, but felt like I was struggling more and getting “worse”. I felt unbalanced. I would have to drop into Child's Pose to collect myself on occasion when I lacked the strength to hold the pose for the allotted “three breath-cycles”.
I wasn’t discouraged, but I was curious.
What was happening?
At one of my classes towards the end of the month, our gentle and directive Yogi instructed us into Tree Pose. Now, I should say, prior to attending this studio’s yoga classes I had done my share of YouTube yoga classes. I was familiar with poses and flows and Tree Pose was one that I was particularly fond of because I knew I was good at it. I felt my spine straighten and my resolve appeared. “Tree Pose. I can do that and I can do it well.”
I planted my left foot, grounding and finding my balance. I lifted my right foot to my inner thigh, tucking it into my groin… And I immediately lost my balance and almost fell into the wall. I tried again. As the rest of the class stood like a forest of trees, I teetered. Frustration began to mount. “I know how to do this one. I know how to do this one well.” Again I tucked my right foot into my groin and again I stumbled. Our instructor gently reminded us (me). “If your practice doesn’t allow for this pose today, listen to your body and see what it needs.” “Ugh! You have got to be kidding me!” I thought. “I. Can. Do. This. Pose. Please don’t make me do something else. Please don’t make me change… be different... fail. I can do this.”
On the third attempt, my body won. What it was saying to me was “not today”.
As I stumbled the third time, I resigned myself to resting my right foot at my left calf (a perfectly acceptable form of Tree Pose, by the way), templed my hands at my heart-center and then lifted them to the ceiling in time for the Yogi to instruct us to transition to the other side. This time I did not fight my body. I grounded my right foot, brought my left foot to my right-calf, templed my hands at my heart-center and reached for the ceiling. I held the pose for the allotted three breath-cycle.
This was the hardest point in my yoga practices in November. I was challenged by just about every pose that evening. I was confused and frustrated. The next morning my body was sore. My muscles were screaming.
Here’s what I realized…
When I started yoga, I practiced poses and flows through self-teaching. It wasn’t until I was under an experienced teacher, who brought me kind and important direction and correction, that I began to do yoga.
And, like I said in the beginning, yoga is hard.
When I was working by myself on poses, there was no one to correct my form. I thought I was doing it “right”. What I was doing felt easy and natural. However, as I worked under the tutelage of an expert, I realized that while I may have been making the pose with my body, I was not experiencing the intention of the pose: to lengthen, strengthen and support the body in its needs.
Yoga got harder as I learned to do yoga. Yoga got harder as I began doing it “right”.
Is this a metaphor for life? We stumble our way around in the world when things are “easy”. Maybe these things are easy because we are not doing it “right”. Maybe we are not listening to our body, our consciousness, our mind or our spirit. It is easy to go with the flow. It is hard to meet with opposition. It is easy to walk away from a difficult person or circumstance. It is hard to face it and work through the issues. What’s amazing is that it is in the pain and hard work that growth happens. When I worked at doing yoga the “right” way, my muscles became engaged. My form improved. My body benefited from the exertion and determination even when it was hard. If I had continued doing it my own way, my complacency would not have allowed me to grow and would not have allowed me to find strength in the struggle.
As I left yoga that evening, I spoke briefly with our Yogi. She encouraged me. She told me that I needed to listen to my body and that there was nothing wrong with making the adjustments that were right for me. She was proud of the work I’d done and was impressed by my improvement. I was proud of myself for showing up. I was proud that I allowed myself to be challenged, to be uncomfortable and to grow.
November is over. I completed the challenge I had put forth to myself. I attended yoga twice a week. The reward I gained from my practice was multifaceted. I was able to move my body in new and inventive ways. I was able to strengthen my body and work my muscles. I was able to step outside my comfort zone and do something that was new and of interest to me. I was able to let my body have a voice for once. I was able to learn to listen to that voice.
Our body is an amazing gift. It truly is a temple. It is a dwelling place for our soul and our spirit. If you are a follower of Jesus, it is also the home of the Holy Spirit. When we listen to our body, we are listening to the Spirit that wants us to be treated “right”. The Spirit wants us to be love and light and life. When we take our body and what it can do for granted, we are robbed of the gift of self-compassion, of self-love. Our bodies can do miraculous things and we disregard its abilities.
I don’t know what my next challenge will be. There may not even be one. But I will take away a great deal from my yoga challenge. I will continue to challenge myself to correct my form, seek out expertise and listen to what my body has to say. My body is an amazing creation and when I tune in to it, I get to reap its rewards… even when it's hard.
Namaste.
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