This week, however, it's all about compassion.
I'd like to tell you that I intuitively knew that I needed a gentle class for the start of week two. Truth is, I was afraid to go to the Flow 2-3 class. By choosing gentle I got exactly what I needed: A reading by Donna during savasana that put my yoga practice and myself into perspective. I was specifically inspired by the following lines:
Don’t think that one day the whole world will be enlightened. It is not possible. There will always be people who are still learning. When you understand the world, and realize your own true nature, you get the diploma.Interesting idea. I thought the people of planet Earth would continue to become more and more enlightened, evolving centuries from now into compassionate beings who calmly solve their problems and openly communicate with one another. It never occurred to me that the unenlightened always needed to be there to balance out the enlightened inhabitants of a future universe.
"Hmm..." I thought as I rolled up to end the class in sukasana, "If the world will always be like this, then it only makes sense that I will always be like this as well."
The next day I hit another gentle class, this one a little more physical than the night before. Jan guided me through a series of slow, flowing poses that allowed me to truly inhabit my body. I could literally feel the activation and strength of my muscles. By giving us the opportunity to repeat poses 2-3 times each, I could feel the space being created within my frame.
By the time we reached the apex of the practice, a sense of calm come over me. I felt very present. The anger was gone and replaced with a little bit of compassion mixed with a splash of non-judgment.
Compassion: Sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it.This occurred because I was open to utilizing modifications (having a desire to alleviate my body's distress) without judging myself for needing to modify in the first place. Because a gentle class by nature is slower, the modifications allowed me the luxury of occupying the poses and exploring them fully. These two days of exploration gave me the confidence to hit another 2-3 class.
Nonjudgmental: Avoiding judgments based on one's personal and especially moral standards.
I unrolled my mat to find that Erin Edwards was teaching. I'm not going to lie. My first thought was, "She's going kick my ass." But oddly, I was okay with it. I knew that balasana was at my disposal and since I lived in a world and a body that was never going to be fully enlightened, my job was to merely try. If my ass got kicked around a little in the process, so be it.
An amazing thing happened that evening. Sure the postures were advanced and yes, it was suggested on more than one occasion that I try poses I haven't yet mastered, but it was done so in a wonderfully, easy going, manner. Erin's focus was on joy and happiness. She played music that had a bit of a pep and because she uses a calm voice when she teaches, there wasn't a feeling of being rushed. Just like the gentle classes of the previous evenings, I was able to inhabit, explore and experience the more advanced poses.
For me, the entire second week of the challenge was about exploration. In seven days I had 6 different teachers and took 5 distinct styles of yoga (Flow-n-Go, Flow 1-2, Flow 2-3, Gentle and Hot). The only common thread was that all 6 of these teachers, chose to lead their students in a slow and deliberate manner. This was the gift yoga gave me last week. The gift to go inward.
I postulated in my last post that if I kept peeling back the layers, underneath the anger I would find sadness. I'll admit, I had a few tears during savasana on Tuesday evening but after a quick release they were gone and replaced with an overwhelming feeling of serenity.
Which means that now I'm really nervous. Is this feeling simply the calm of week two before the storm of week three? I ask because I'm writing this on day 16 of the challenge. The day after Dorcas pushed me to my edge at last night's 2-3 class. The day after I was put through the paces of so many vinyasa flows I feared I might turn into Michael Douglas' character in the movie, Falling Down, where he plays a stressed out Defense Department worker that psychologically snaps.
Up, down, up, down. I thought it would never end. Up for a pose, then down for the vinyasa, then back up for a pose, sink in to it - hold it - hold it - sink deeper - hold it - sink a littler more - keep breathing - then back down through the vinyasa. As the heat began to flow through me and the room, I feared my anger would once again rear it's ugly head.
Instead, an interesting thing happened. The anger of week one, mixed with the compassion of week two, transformed into humor.
The class although exhausting, was fun. Instead of allowing the heaviness of anger to inhabit my body, the lightness of invigoration took hold instead. Rather than hating a pose that challenged me, I chose to play and explore it.
Which leads us to crow.
I knew it was coming. Rarely does bakasana not show up in a 2-3 class. And thanks to Jaime jokingly announcing that I didn't want to do crow at the start of the practice, I knew DQ was going to throw it in - often. She had that look in her eye.
The first time she announced it, I started to laugh and gave it a shot. Lifting the left toe is easy. It's keeping the right toe off the ground that gives me trouble. Then she told us to jump back into chatarunga (which I didn't) before she asked us to jump from chatarunga back into crow (yeah, right). I didn't jump but I tried crow for a second time and once again, I lifted my right toe only to have it quickly touch down yet again, but this time, I was breathing while I did it.
Then our third opportunity to do crow arose. I took a breath, planted my hands, pressed my knees firmly against the outside of my elbows, tilted forward, set my gaze, exhaled, and then....
My left arm gave out.
I fell down. Hard. Right smack dab on the top of my left knee. It could've been worse. I could've fallen on my face.
Up, down, up, down. I thought it would never end. Up for a pose, then down for the vinyasa, then back up for a pose, sink in to it - hold it - hold it - sink deeper - hold it - sink a littler more - keep breathing - then back down through the vinyasa. As the heat began to flow through me and the room, I feared my anger would once again rear it's ugly head.
Instead, an interesting thing happened. The anger of week one, mixed with the compassion of week two, transformed into humor.
The class although exhausting, was fun. Instead of allowing the heaviness of anger to inhabit my body, the lightness of invigoration took hold instead. Rather than hating a pose that challenged me, I chose to play and explore it.
Which leads us to crow.
I knew it was coming. Rarely does bakasana not show up in a 2-3 class. And thanks to Jaime jokingly announcing that I didn't want to do crow at the start of the practice, I knew DQ was going to throw it in - often. She had that look in her eye.
The first time she announced it, I started to laugh and gave it a shot. Lifting the left toe is easy. It's keeping the right toe off the ground that gives me trouble. Then she told us to jump back into chatarunga (which I didn't) before she asked us to jump from chatarunga back into crow (yeah, right). I didn't jump but I tried crow for a second time and once again, I lifted my right toe only to have it quickly touch down yet again, but this time, I was breathing while I did it.
Then our third opportunity to do crow arose. I took a breath, planted my hands, pressed my knees firmly against the outside of my elbows, tilted forward, set my gaze, exhaled, and then....
My left arm gave out.
I fell down. Hard. Right smack dab on the top of my left knee. It could've been worse. I could've fallen on my face.
Last night was tough. But it was also fun. Jaime and I shared quite a few giggles in the back of the room. It was sweaty. Parts of it were insane. It was yoga. Maybe not a complete union of my mind, body and spirit, but one that yoked my compassion with my anger, allowing the humor to shine through.
Crow still sucks. But it sucks less and after last night, I've officially changed my crow goal. I don't just want to keep my toe up. I want to laugh while keeping my toe up.
Who knows? Maybe that's what's been missing all along?
Until next time,
Linda
2 comments:
What a beautiful goal-- I'm with you! I can't ever get both toes up, let alone laugh, breathe AND keep both toes up. Let's work toward it together!
thank you for taking us on your journey. you had me the whole time. i thought for sure you were going to FLY in crow, but even better that your laughter carried you to new heights.
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