So, this morning I was crabby.
More than crabby.
I was don't-ask-me-how-I'm-doing-or-I'll-cry crabby.
And some of that was due to going to sleep at 3am and then waking up at 8:15am with barely time to throw on boots and some deodorant before rushing out the door to come to the yoga studio and work. And some of it was just due to having spent a weekend over-using my over-active brain.
And I was determined that I would not be going to class, as I'd not had my morning tea, and I was in this near-tears state of crabbiness and Hagar was teaching and Hagar can be a little, well...ass-kicky.
But Hagar is also so full of awesomeness I can't describe it, and is a teacher who I have been growing closer with, and she asked me, as she was adjusting her yoga teacher meets avante-garde fashionista pants, if I would be coming to class, and I had to tell her the truth.
I told her I didn't think I would be coming as I was feeling a little off this morning.
"Physically?" She asked.
"Noooooo." (whimper, whimper).
And without pressing too hard, she...ahem, encouraged me to come to class anyway.
"It will be better than sitting here." She said. And I knew she was right. But still I did not WANT to go, because I knew that if I DID go I would be forced to confront whatever I was feeling as a real thing in my body and not just a flurry of fast moving thoughts in the ether of my brain. I knew if I went to class I would have to be with myself, and I was finding myself a bit distasteful at that particular moment. You want me to go be with myself? Why would I want to be left alone with this person (me)? All she does is tell me all the things that are wrong with me and remind me what I ought to be afraid of! You want me to take this person with me to yoga and open up all my soft parts to her? I doooooon't think so, lady.
So though most parts of me were like NOOOOOOooooo, let's stay out here and think things throoooooooough a little bit more first! One tiny teensy part of me was whispering, go. It will be good for you.
And so I went to class. I went and I allowed myself to be where I was--as grumpy as I was. I could feel Hagar with me throughout, though she rarely came over to me or spoke directly to me, I could feel her--as if she was teaching just for me. Which, of course, she wasn't--but she was holding me, gently, in her attention, and it helped. I felt bolstered by it. And slowly, slowly, slowly, as I lifted up and bent down and twisted, my attention began to turn, and I could feel all the stickiness of the upset and the worry start to get a little less...sticky.
How is it possible?! How is it that a couple handstands and some bending at the waist can utterly transform a mood? And why is it that I am so reticent to allow that fact at exactly the moments I need it most?
I posed this question to Hagar after class--why it is that the thing which we know will be best for us is so often the hardest thing to do when we are feeling bad? Why is it that the one solution that might actually relieve us of some weight is the one we come to very last? She said she thought it was because there is darkness and light in all of us, and that darkness can be loud and powerful and it doesn't WANT the light. It doesn't want it because for it, the light is the end of the road. Destruction-ay.
And we talked about the seductiveness of that feeling, and how strongly it can hold our attention, and I told her that, for me, what made the yoga so powerful is that it forces you to engage. Even if you don't want to. Because (and this is the genius of the whole system) the yoga is not possible...it is not physically possible, without engagement. Yes, you can go to class and be preoccupied, of course of course, but at some point, inevitably, all that mucking around with your body is going to bring you INTO your body. And once you are in your body, you are in your life. Once you are in your body, you are present. And it can be hard to commit to that when you are feeling lousy--because some part of you knows (it KNOWS, it really does) that if you get engaged, if you get present, then the lousy feeling can no longer be. It's actually IMPOSSIBLE for the lousy feeling to remain if you are engaged in your present moment experience. Trip out on that for a couple minutes, I dare you, because if you follow that to its logical conclusion it could mean a pretty radical attitudinal change...
And so that lousy feeling (or at least this is how it is for me) is like, "No, no, no, don't do that! You don't want to do that because then...well then how will you ever SOLVE me?! You're just going to, what, be IN your life? What about me? What happens to me, then?" It is fighting for its life, this little bugger. It is fighting for its entire existence, and so the thought of you doing something, anything, that would DISSOLVE it...is not at the top of the little guy's list.
And as we were talking I thought about this fact--this engagement--and I thought how often for me it is the thing which goes first. I am in my life, I am in my life, and then I just...step away. Thinking I am stepping away to get a better look, to make sure everything is going as it should, but really I am just withdrawing.
We get told over and over again in class to root through our hands and root through our feet, to keep our legs and arms engaged, to keep the core active, to hug in, to engage, to engage, to engage. And we are told we must do this to protect ourselves from injury, and we are told we must do this to get the full expression of the pose, and we are told that we must always come back to this--to come back to this feeling of engagement, and I realize that this is also what must happen in one's life. We have to remember to root down. To hug in. To engage and re-engage, because THAT is the only thing that will allow the full expression of one's life, and THAT is the thing that will protect one from injury.
And so to my little lousy lady inside I say, I hear you, but I am going to yoga, anyhow...
