All These Places

So I’ve heard that I’m a good person to talk to when one needs advice. People tell me that my blog or my yoga class theme really hits home; that it’s just what they needed to hear. And I write these words, I theme my classes usually because it’s an issue I’m having or have had before, an idea that I’m working with. Here’s the thing though—I don’t often listen to myself. It falls close to the lines of “do as I say, not what I do.” And, well, that’s just silly.

The most recent example of this happened on Saturday. We are gearing up at the studio to begin a teacher training and we hosted an informational session for all interested yogis. We discussed what the program would involve and I was asked to impart any advice I had about starting such a program. I passed along the wise words that I received from a past teacher when I was getting ready to start my own training. He encouraged me to really develop a strong personal practice. What this means to all of you non-yogis is that it’s the yoga you do when you are by yourself—no classes, no videos, no one else around. Not only because it makes you stronger in your practice but also because it’s interesting to see what comes up when there’s no one to guide you.

And, hey, guess what I hadn’t been doing for a really long time? You got it…it had been longer than I could really remember since I laid down my mat and let nothing guide me except for the rhythms of my breath. Sure, there are challenges to doing yoga at home. One of them is a big brown dog who can’t comprehend why I would possibly be on the floor and not be petting him. The others are simply a product of my busy little mind…..upward dog….downward dog…oh, hey, look I haven’t really dusted that shelf in a while, maybe I should do that real quick. Lucky for me, I have access to a beautiful, peaceful studio that I can go use when class isn’t in session. Every once in a while it occurs to me to take advantage of this great fortune.

Yesterday was one of those days. I had some spare time before teaching a class so I left my house a little early, got to the studio and locked the door behind me. I turned on a playlist of songs that have been my favorites this summer and I began to do my yoga practice. I started simple, moving through sun salutations and twisting lunges. Then I began to have some real fun with my poses, pushing myself, flipping all around, taking rests in downward dog. And then something happened. This song came on. It’s a song that’s filled with rhythm and pain and want and movement. So I started dancing. The moves came back to me easier than I would have thought; which is probably reassuring to my parents since they paid for dance lessons for fourteen years. Yes, dance was my first love and I had left her somewhere along the way. It’s funny how we forget the most basic things that bring us joy in our attempts to be grown ups, isn’t it?

So I danced throughout that song, my body taking on the rhythm and the pain and the want the movement. When the song ended, I started it again. And then when it was over again, I collapsed on the floor, sweaty and exhausted. And I felt incredible.

Being by ourselves, doing a self practice so to speak, allows us to see who we are when no one is looking. It can be a scary place to be because sometimes that self is hard to find; and sometimes that self isn’t as shiny and glowing as we would like it to be. But it’s who we are and where we are and that’s always our starting point. What comes up when no one else is telling us what we should be doing? What can we express when the room is completely empty? At that point we become free of judgment from others….but then we must face the judgment that we are only holding against ourselves. And I think we all know that the inner critic is a surly little beast; but it’s a beast that must be taken out for walks and exhausted if we truly want to tame it. Yesterday I chose to dance with that beast. And today I woke up sore but definitely closer to where I need to be. I suppose I should start to listen to my own advice more often.