practice imperfect

I recently spent several weeks with family in another state, helping my dad recover from surgery and getting to know my newborn nephew.  My 5 year old daughter accompanied me, and I spent the majority of my vacation caring for others.  On this type of trip, there are no opportunities to hit a local yoga class or roll out a mat in a quiet, private room.  The challenges to yoga practice are huge – time, space, never being alone.  What’s a dedicated yogi to do?  It was time to embrace the imperfect practice.

Should you find yourself in a similar situation, be it long or short term, here is my advice:  In the imperfect practice, we can let go of our routines and expectations.  Do hatha yoga whenever you get the chance, perhaps in the living room with children climbing on you (this is a great way to step up your chaturanga!).  Stop every 5 minutes or so to change a diaper, get someone a glass of water, or help a small child put clothes on a stuffed dinosaur.   Notice that you are still breathing in and out.  Draw your awareness within.  Practice pranayama in medical waiting rooms, while coloring pictures of Strawberry Shortcake.   Meditate, if briefly, after everyone is asleep, just before you pass out in exhaustion.  Drink lots of water and eat as healthfully as you can. Prepare healthy food for your loved ones too.  Sing mantras to yourself as you cook.  Politely decline donuts and burgers.   If you can get out for half an hour, go for a walk or a run.  Focus on your breath and feel the rhythm of your feet.  Let the routine motions of your body become moving meditations.  Send love daily to loved ones who are suffering.  Find gratitude in your ability to serve from a place of strength and clarity.  Don’t worry that you will backslide in the amazing asanas you’ve worked so hard to cultivate.  Your imperfect practice will hold the door open for you until you return.

Letting go of your practice in this way is a practice in itself.   It is here you have the practical opportunity to focus on the higher principles of yoga.  You’ve read them in your yoga books and used them as intentions in your classes:  Aparigraha -non-grasping.  Santosha - contentment.   Ishvara-pranidhana – devotion to a higher cause.   In times of difficulty you are called to put these concepts into motion.  Trust in your higher Self.  This is what your time on the mat has prepared you for, and the Universe knows you are ready to accept the challenge. 

* To family members I visited on this trip - I absolutely cherished this time together.  It really was a gift, and not a burden, to be able to help and serve those I love.  Your love and acceptance kept me strong and happy more than anything and I wish I was with you all the time.  Just in case you were wondering. :)

the strange path to wonderful

If someone had told my 22-year-old self that I was destined to become a professional yoga instructor, I would probably have had a good laugh and another shot of Jager.  But the universe has a way of moving us in the direction of our higher purpose, even when we don’t have reason to believe.

The first yoga class I attended was a disaster.   It was listed on the studio schedule as “Beginner’s Ashtanga”.  The teacher led us through a long, foreign chant that confused me thoroughly.  Then she discussed the grave implications of not following the path with great devotion.  When the asana practice began, it became clear that I was in fact the only actual beginner, as the other students were quickly performing impossible feats of physical strength and grace.  The instructor seemed irritated that she had to deal with my clumsy and inflexible body, and made me spend most of the class practicing tadasana .  I had just paid $15 to stand with my back against a wall for 45 minutes.  Bored and humiliated, I walked out of the studio thinking, “I guess yoga just isn’t my thing”.

Still seeking some form of physical fitness, I joined a local health club.   I frequented a class called “Body Flow”, a choreographed program loosely based on yoga and tai chi, set to a standardized Top 40 soundtrack.  It was the kind of thing that might make a devoted Ashtanga teacher vomit on her black Manduka mat.  But it was here I learned to move with my breath.  It was here I realized I had muscles in my hips.  It was here I actually felt a real connection with my body for the first time, ever.  The instructor was consistently kind and happy to see me.  And I eventually gained enough strength and flexibility to venture tentatively into another “real” yoga class.  And another.  And another. 

Fast forward 8 years, and I had somehow landed myself at Shoshoni ashram west of Boulder.   My time had finally come to master the perfect tadasana, to recite long foreign chants, to perform impossible feats of strength and grace, to follow this path with great devotion.  It turns out yoga is, in fact, my thing.  

This is what I love about yoga.  It always meets me right where I am, planting the right seeds at the right time.  My practice has always been unique and perfect for my current needs.  It helps me move through the present as it sets the stage for my next growth spurt.  Your practice does the same for you, though it probably doesn’t look a thing like mine.   And you never know when something unexpected (like maybe a pop culture infused health club class) might just lead, sooner or later, to something wonderful.