Yesterday, as any other Thursday, I went to yoga class, also known as “Deep Breather” or “Moving Meditation”. To get down to the nitty-gritty, led modified primary series of Ashtanga Vinyasa.
Even it it’s led, even if it’s the primary, it is still a difficult style to start with.
Well it was not for the girl on my left. It was not hard for her to bind in all the padmasana-based poses aka “Knee Killers”. It was not hard for her to lower her chin to her shins in paschimottanasa aka “Hamstring Lethal Weapon”. It was not hard for her to have her heels to the floor in adho mukha svanasana aka “Who the Hell Said it was a Resting Pose?”. It was not hard for her to embody a perfect chair in utkatasana aka “Pose of Utter Discontent or Can I Please Come Out Now?”. It was not hard for her to open her chest, grab the toe, and still not face the floor in trikonasana aka “My Own Personal Jesus”. It was not hard for her, and it was her first ever yoga class. Her first EVAH.
Do you know how long it took me before I could even reach my fingertips naturally to the floor in no-matter-what beloved triangle? Two years.
I can’t bind in the lotus variations on both sides, only one. When I’m hot like a bucket of French fries.
I hated her. Hated her. She seemed like a nice girl, but holy sh*t am I not training to be a kickasana yoga teacher? Why oh why am I not able, after years of practice, to do these poses comfortably and she, the Beginner, is rocking them on her first EVAH yoga class?
Then came the part when I beat myself up for having these thoughts and being oh-so-“unyogic”. It’s not about the POSES, you silly, you bad bad yogini!
Finally one pose I managed to do somewhat gracefully: savasana. Needless to say, my mind was racing up in full gear. Aren’t we supposed to relax in that pose? Whoever said that clearly was suffering from lack of sleep.
Still. When savasana ended, I was smiling. Because 1. good for her if she could rock these poses – I am a Shtira kind of girl and feel my toes and feet as different entities as I root to the earth, she is a Sukha kind of girl and opens up her heart. There is nothing wrong with either of these options ; 2. because I am still human after all. Why would I beat myself up for being who I can’t help being in the first place?
So yeah, there you go: I am not perfect and will never be. I’ll still be bitchin’ and moanin’ because that’s what I do. I’ll still be joking and goofing around because that’s what I do. I’ll still be loving and sharing because that’s who I am. I’ll still be struggling with my flexibility (or lack thereof) because that’s who I am. I’ll still be growing through my own challenges and feelings, and hopefully still be easing other people’s struggles too because that’s who I am and what I do.
I am imperfect, and loving it.
(Man am I serious this week! Taking growth quantum leaps, or so it seems 😉 but hey, no holds barred, I promised)