the space between
i remember the day my teacher "gave" me supta vajrasana ... as if it were a gift. (which it's not)
i found nothing to celebrate in a posture that would require my teacher to sit on my lotused legs, arms securely bound behind my back and drop me back on my head. (if you don't practice Ashtanga yoga - you're probably horrified ... but lemme tell you, if you do practice Ashtanga, you should be horrified!)
for almost a year, i moved between fierce determination and utter resignation - with no sign that it was going to get better. unless of course, you consider i had regularly started to lose feeling in one arm each time i finished, which was a step up from feeling like my shoulder was going to rip out of its socket.
yet in anyone's lifetime - mine certainly, and i imagine yours too - yoga poses should be the least of our worries. because as insurmountable it once seemed to get my feet behind my head ... it pales in comparison to raising teenagers, escaping a brutal relationship, and continuing to believe in myself despite a stack of rejection letters to the contrary.
there still exist plenty of days when all anyone can do is greet each one with a hope and a prayer - by just showing up and giving our best, even if our best IS just showing up. tired and full of doubt, we get up and do our work. morning after morning ...day after bloody day.
until suddenly, without ever really realizing why or when or even how - this awesome, delightful semi-adult somehow replaces the sullen teen you worried about. love erases the hurt, and fears dissipate, giving birth to new confidence.
and the yoga you had begun to seriously question, opens us up to the realization that what we were feeling perhaps wasn't as much physical as emotional. and that a close connection with a trusted teacher makes being dropped on our head while bound almost ... almost ... ok.
where it all happens is that space between struggle and acceptance, hurt and happiness, failure and success. a space where showing up is not just all you can do - it's all you need to do.
i won't pretend to know how, or when, or why - i just have faith that it will. whatever "it" is.
and it's why i'm pretty sure that when guruji said, practice and all will come ... he wasn't just talking asana.
i found nothing to celebrate in a posture that would require my teacher to sit on my lotused legs, arms securely bound behind my back and drop me back on my head. (if you don't practice Ashtanga yoga - you're probably horrified ... but lemme tell you, if you do practice Ashtanga, you should be horrified!)
yet in anyone's lifetime - mine certainly, and i imagine yours too - yoga poses should be the least of our worries. because as insurmountable it once seemed to get my feet behind my head ... it pales in comparison to raising teenagers, escaping a brutal relationship, and continuing to believe in myself despite a stack of rejection letters to the contrary.
there still exist plenty of days when all anyone can do is greet each one with a hope and a prayer - by just showing up and giving our best, even if our best IS just showing up. tired and full of doubt, we get up and do our work. morning after morning ...day after bloody day.
until suddenly, without ever really realizing why or when or even how - this awesome, delightful semi-adult somehow replaces the sullen teen you worried about. love erases the hurt, and fears dissipate, giving birth to new confidence.
and the yoga you had begun to seriously question, opens us up to the realization that what we were feeling perhaps wasn't as much physical as emotional. and that a close connection with a trusted teacher makes being dropped on our head while bound almost ... almost ... ok.
where it all happens is that space between struggle and acceptance, hurt and happiness, failure and success. a space where showing up is not just all you can do - it's all you need to do.
i won't pretend to know how, or when, or why - i just have faith that it will. whatever "it" is.
and it's why i'm pretty sure that when guruji said, practice and all will come ... he wasn't just talking asana.
Posted by peg mulqueen at 9/26/2011 10:33 PM 
Categories: sri k. patthabhi jois, ashtanga yoga, trust, yoga, faith, doubt
Tags: supta vajrasana david keil
Categories: sri k. patthabhi jois, ashtanga yoga, trust, yoga, faith, doubt
Tags: supta vajrasana david keil
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