October 2011

They say that practice makes perfect, though the pursuit of yoga is peace and happiness, rather than perfection. Perhaps yogis should live by the adage "Practice makes peace" then? Like most things that require effort and concentration, practicing yoga can be hard work. Even harder than the actual practice itself is making yourself practice. I know it does not fall on deaf ears when I say that getting yourself to class is often the hardest part of practice.

I am currently going through a phase where my practice only takes place when I set out with an intended time and place to do so. I have to either attend a class which has a specified time, or schedule an extra 90 minutes before or after a time I teach to stay and do my yoga for the day. As I write this, I SHOULD be bending and breathing before my 6:30pm class starts...but I procrastinated with the newsletter this month, and it has to get out by tomorrow.

My point is that our practice goes through phases, and it's sometimes really hard to make yourself do the things you know you should. I can't count the times that I've had to drag myself to practice, but I can't recall any occassions where I went to practice and was disappointed or sad that I did. You're always grateful, content, and whole when you finish with the day's yoga....it's getting there that's the hard part.

Why is it so hard to get to your mat when the benefits are so obvious? Simple. The path of least resistance is part of human nature. It is easier to sit on the couch than it is to practice yoga...whether it's a sweaty, physical practice, or meditation and pranayama. It all requires more effort than doing nothing. It's not that humans are inherently lazy, we just often struggle to find the discipline to make ourselves do things we sometimes don't feel like doing.

I spent part of last week with one of my favorite teachers, Kino MacGregor. She made a point that has been following me all week: People tend to gravitate to things they are good at. For example, a natural backbender will jump at the opportunity to do ten Urdhva Dhanurasanas, while the dude in the back with tight shoulders grunts his way through bridge pose. You never hear yogis with tight hips requesting to do pigeon before class...it's generally the individual who can hang out there for hours and take a nap!

Kino's point was this: Why can't we love the poses that aren't easy for us or don't come naturally? Why can't we embrace and love a challenge?

We all have them: the postures we silently curse our teachers for making us hold, the Navasanas and Utkatasanas of the yoga world. The Parivritta Trikonasanas and Chaturanga Dandasanas. I have since tried to employ this notion in my own practice. There is a certain pose I have been working on for about a year....yes, a year. It will probably be at least another year before I fully master said posture. Usually, I dread this pose. About 3 poses before it, a reel in my head starts saying "It's coming, it's coming, it's coming..." I am attempting to love this posture. After all, I do hope to do it with ease one day...why can't I love the learning process and the challenge it presents? After all, if we were masters of the practice, we would be well on the way to Samadhi....and I most certainly have a long way to go.

The real work of the practice is between the lines. It comes when we are not looking. It's not the poses, but the way the practice touches our lives. It's the patience we cultivate when struggling with an asana, the kindness and Ahimsa we learn when we have to step back and rest our bodies, the non-attachment (Vairagya) to these poses as we learn them. Ultimately, a yogi should practice like their life depends on it while simultaneously practicing like it doesn't matter.