That's how one of my favorite teachers, Livia Shapiro, started class tonight. Then she proceeded to take us through a series of back bends, weaving in gems like "asana is both ecumenical and political." She talked about our rights in being human, and how the rite of asana practice acts as a vehicle to help us exercise those rights. She hit on social justice and the politics of our bodies at the same time that she guided us safely into and out of poses aimed at opening our shoulders, chests, hips, and thighs. Suffice it to say that I fucking love this woman! You can check her out at The Little Yoga Studio and the Yoga Pod in Boulder. Seriously, she offers some of the most intelligent asana instruction that you are likely ever to receive!
Livia was subbing tonight for another favorite teacher of mine, so I wasn't expecting to see her at the front of the room. And after class, in the process of thanking her for being willing to step in to someone else's class, she commented that she hadn't seen me for a while. This triggered a brief episode of blathering in which I commented on the fact that I was the worst student ever, was working on it, and that I would begin to fall in love and then pull back. She gave me a wry smile and gracefully told me to hang in there.
Wow. WTF. What WAS all of that? After a good cry and a walk around the block, here is what I think it was. What happens on the mat is also happening off of it. My resistance to committing to a teacher, to accepting what she or he has to offer and at the same time submitting myself to the discipline of showing up consistently, this pattern is not confined to my yoga practice. Afraid that I'll be disappointed, that I won't get what I want, or worse yet, that I will somehow be abandoned or humiliated, I don't open myself fully to experience, or opportunities for experience. It's much easier to hold back, to remain skeptical and "impartial," than to give myself over fully. For a long time I have been afraid to fall in love with anything and unwilling to engage in the work that falling in love requires.
I offer this bit of self-disclosure for two reasons. #1, it's important for me to admit this about myself "out loud." #2, I want to pay my teachers' wisdom forward. I may be a reluctant student, but I owe it to those who have shown up for me to share what I've learned. The next time I feel the urge to avoid when I know I should lean in, I'm going to notice it in a new way. The next time I make assumptions instead of having the courage to ask, I'm going to pause. And hopefully in the process of noticing and pausing, I can summon the courage to make a different choice. And do you know where we get so many chances to notice and pause, and to lean in and ask? On our mats.
Tonight, Livia asked us to make an offering, a prayer, of our practice. This is mine, right here.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment