This Is So Hard.
You know when you're in a yoga posture that's hard? You know when you're clenching your jaw, holding your breath and you hear words coming out of the yoga teacher's mouth, but have no idea what the heck she's saying because she can't possibly realize the pain you're in and clearly if she's asking you to breathe, she must be kidding because the only way to withstand this moment is by holding your breath and awaiting her permission to get out of it!
"What is wrong with her?! I'm here in class because I want,
I need to feel good. I need relief from my back pain,
my tight hamstrings and my neck is killing me!
I'm here so I can get away from the overly busy
monkey that lives in my overly busy brain. Where is
that zen and yoga bliss? I want zen and bliss and I want
it right now! Please. Oh wait, she's cueing us finally out! Yay!
She wants me to move slowly, intentionally and breathe well?
I don't think I've taken a breath this entire time and I need out
of this posture NOW. Move with intention! She's got to be kidding!"
Ok, walk with me for a moment and bring along those backpacks so we can unpack them. Together. We come to our mats to practice making shapes because in those shapes we are going to feel better in body and we really want to feel better. And yet, this doesn't feel better. At all. And then (hopefully) we return to the practice again. And again. And one day, there's a moment when I'm in that same really hard position and the struggle changes, it becomes somehow less intense and I think I might even be breathing and with that same acceptance of breath, I might have noticed my brain is a bit quieter too. I feel good. I am happy. With each practice we return to our mats and find these shapes with a little less gripping, a little less mental and emotional discomfort and maybe we ease up on hoping and praying for our teacher to take us out of that pose PRONTO; because maybe there's something to the practice I'm starting to like and I need to find out because part lies somewhere inside the physical pose, which by the way is only part physical.
Our bodies begin discovering their innate ability to make space, unstick and move more freely. The beautiful notice means our minds and bodies have found integration. Neither is pushing the other for escape but rather a harmony is found in their integration. We begin to anticipate, even look forward to more discoveries each time we set course on our rectangles of floor. We become open to less judgement about "that pose" and more curious about that relief, that feel good we had a but glimpse of. What was that? Can I find it again? Can I sustain it? Or maybe, there's even something more for me to discover? This is actually fun!
Welcome to the incredible journey of yourself through yourself. Bliss is not for but a moment, but in each and every inhale and exhale, struggle, wrestle, release, ebb and flow. Bliss is happening in and around you all the time, it is simply waiting for your sweet notice.