I’m sorry…before I even begin, can I just say GRRRRRRR to my
local coffee shop? What is with this
trend in local haunts of covering over all their electric outlets so no one can
plug in their computer? I know, I know, you don’t want people to hog
your tables for hours for the measly price of a cup of tea, but I tell you
what, as someone who looooooves going to coffee shops to write—if you can provide me with a
reasonably warm environment and access to a power supply, I am yours.
I mean, come on! Aren’t
you interested in winning the love and devotion of Los Angeles’ army of
underemployed writers? Don’t you know
that your generosity with electricity will be paid back in full by the not just
one maybe two maybe even three coffees
or teas that I and my fellow key pluckers will purchase not just today…but every day? My god, little neighborhood coffee shop, your
tables are always half empty…wouldn’t you rather I stayed and drank my fill
than that I have to give up and pack up after an hour or two because I’m out of
juice? Well, I know where I’m not
wanted, little down-the-road café…don’t think I don’t.
Okay, wait, I’m sorry…what am I supposed to be talking
about? Is it…how cute Jay-Z and Beyonce’snewborn baby is??! Squeeeeee!
Hmmm. No, that’s not
it.
Is it that lately my practice (such that it is) has
consisted of a lot of lay-on-the-floor asana, some hang-over-my-legs asana, a
little what-was-that-one-with-the-bolster-again asana? And that, for shame…I don’t mind a bit? Is it that?
I remember once, years ago, having a conversation with a
friend of mine about repeated patterns.
“Why,” I asked her, “do I keep making the same mistake, over and over
again?” And she thought for a minute and
then said something that I still think of, to this day, all. The. Time.
“Well,” she said, “it’s like taking a shower, I guess. You don’t take a shower and say okay, that’s
it, now I’m clean. I’m done. I never have to do that again. You have to shower every day. Because dirt builds up.”
This is one of the first things you learn in a yoga
practice…in any spiritual practice, really.
And you learn this as an artist.
(As an actor often this is the only thing keeping you going, when
nothing I mean nothing else will.) And that is: just keep coming back. No
matter how many times you screw up in the same old way, get aggravated in the
same old way, stop paying attention in the same old way, overreact in the same
old way, get disappointed in the same old way…you just have to come back.
Fwoop! Swap!
Unroll your mat.
And start again. Not
because you’ve done something wrong—no one feels that their daily need to
shower (again) is a sign of their broken-ness.
You just know that you’re living your life. And the more you live your life the more you
sweat and get dirty and so the more necessary it is to get naked, turn on the
water, and clean it up.
And what does this have to do with my floor-bound
practice? I think it’s this: I think that I no longer feel that my yoga
practice is something which I have to master in an allotted time frame. (My god, the number of THINGS in my life that
I feel I have to master in an allotted time frame! Yeesh.) I know that I will be practicing yoga for the
rest of my life. Whether or not I’m teaching.
Whether or not I’m writing about it.
I will be doing this practice until my body stops working and even then,
I’ll probably practice with whatever I’ve got left…I’ll do eye-blink yoga like
the guy from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.
There is no fury and no flurry and no rush.
If I’m having a day (or a week) where I feel heavy and slow
(but sweet) as I do this week…then my practice will come with me. If all I want to do is master press-up
handstand (someday, you will be mine!)…then my practice will come with me. If I’m feeling good and just wanting to
breathe deep…my practice will come with me.
And I don’t have to play catch-up.
Because this practice is not something I just layer on top of my life or
jam squarely into the round crevices of my life…it is part and parcel, hand in
hand, ankle-to-knee…with me.
All the best things in life are this way. (Yes, husband...this means you.)
And it’s true, isn’t it? All the best things are this way. Sometimes I think that all we should be looking for in life are those
things and those people and those places that we know, reward or no reward,
accomplishable goal or not…we will keep coming back to. And then all we have to do is turn on the hot water, strip down, and step in. Again, and again, and again.
