Saturday, July 14, 2018

Am I a Real Yogi? Musings on feelings of inadequacy and connection


Hello darling! 
Today I want to talk about yoga. Yoga has been a regular part of my life for several years now. I even have plans to take a yoga teacher training within the next year (hooray!). Despite that, I still sometimes feel… a bit like an imposter. 

Why do I feel like a fraud? 

Well, yoga people seem so… cool. And flexible (two words with which I would absolutely not describe myself). Yoga people are supposed to know more Sanskrit words than “Namaste” and can somehow get their leg above their shoulder while simultaneously balancing on their opposite arm or some such. Besides, they even have a term to describe themselves: yogis. You seriously have to be part of the inner sanctum to use that word on yourself. 

There were many years where I was highly interested in yoga, but refused to even try it because I thought that it was exclusively for stuck up, slim, blonde women who had heaps of money to spend on fancy yoga pants and the asses to make the aforementioned leggings look hella good. Frankly, I was intimidated and therefore refused to even participate (this is a common theme in my life and something that I am actively working to combat). Now, I see that I was wrong to be so judgmental. 

Yoga is for everybody. For every body. For every mind, too, if we really want to get down to it. You don’t have to have the body of a sapling and the bendiness to match in order to practice yoga. Heaven knows I can barely touch my toes on a good day. You don’t have to drink Pumpkin Spice Lattes (obviously, no cream, no sugar… though I don’t know how that’s possible while retaining the integrity of the drink) or alternately, green juice. You don’t even have to practice every day.

Let’s discuss. When I finally did decide to dip my toe in the pond, I said, “Screw it!” to toe dipping and cannon-balled myself right into that water. I made myself do yoga at home every morning before breakfast (if you know me, you know this was a major sacrifice. Breakfast=life), I attended Vinyasa flows and long Sunday bliss flows and (excruciatingly) hot flows with a certain religious-esque fervor. 

I loved it. 
I also hated it. 

I hated the rigidity of yoga, the fact that everyone had to do the same moves over and over. I hated that yes, many of the women there were ridiculously toned and tan with high-lit hair that somehow failed to get sweaty in a 95F room. But what I hated, I also came to wholeheartedly love. The rigidity of yoga I came to understand instead as a beautiful intentionality. Each movement was precise, purposeful, intended to move you to the next. Each breath was paired with a movement. As yoga began to shape my body into the same slender shape as those women toward whom I had harbored jealousy, I felt satisfaction. All of this sounds well and good.

Until…

            Life happened and I stopped doing yoga before breakfast and I stopped attending regular classes and I fell out of the practice. When I wouldreturn to my mat (once a week? Maybe?) I felt stiff and sore and disgruntled. 

Progress lost is always accompanied by bitterness.


Now, I have a much more balanced approach to my yoga practice. I have come to several conclusions about yoga.

1)    Yoga is not only a physical practice, but a mental practice. Yoga, for me, is moving meditation. Sometimes it allows me to focus entirely on my breathing and my movement and drop everything that is spinning around in my head. Other times, it gives me the time I need to focus on those thoughts. Many times, I allow it to be a time to really think about a certain topic (ease, strength, the divine feminine) and how these concepts can be applied to other aspects of my life. It can be cathartic. I cry a lot during yoga.

2)    The earth and my mat are always there to support me.

3)    Yoga doesn’t have to be hard. It can be soft, easy, blissful. It can be done in your bedroom at night with all the lights off and only a candle for company. Try this. Please. Allow yoga to be self-love, not only self-discipline.

4)    You don’t need to have a certain body type to do yoga. An inflexible person saying that they can’t do yoga because they aren’t flexible is like someone who has never played the piano saying they can’t start to learn because they don’t know how to play Janacek’s Sinfonietta. That’s not logical, my dear.

5)    This need not be a daily practice. I feel the best when I make daily yoga a priority. However, sometimes life happens and things come up and it’s suddenly eleven o’clock at night and you are forced to choose between forgoing your yoga and forgoing your sleep. This is something that is supposed to be restorative and lovely. Don’t turn it into a chore. 

I may not be as flexible, I may not have been practicing for as long, I may not even practice every day, but I still believe that, at the heart of it, I am a yogi. 

If you love what you are doing and your practice suits you, who cares if you can do a Bird of Paradise? No one should be allowed to think that you are not enough of a yogi because you aren’t flexible enough to contort your beautiful body into a Gandha Bherundasana. I certainly can’t. Maybe you only find yourself on your mat every few weeks… maybe it has been years. If you have returned to your mat and are connecting to the breath flowing through you, the earth beneath your feet, and your inner truth, then you are a yogi.

I have found many beautiful souls and lovely spaces through the practice of yoga.
     I have also found myself, returned to myself.
          If you stray, come back to the mat, come back to the breath.

Please don’t let yoga intimidate you or feel exclusive. Yoga is the ultimate inclusivity. Yoga brings people together and brings us back to our authentic selves. 

For me, yoga is about connection. Connection to myself, my truth, the universe around me, others in my life, the earth that we share.

Darling, try yoga. Take a deep breath. Let it out. Start now.

Namaste essentially means “The God in me recognizes the God in you.” However, when I whisper this word to myself at the end of my practice, I mean “I recognize that this practice brings out the best in me; I am, now, the best version of myself.” This is self-love. This is a practice of self-love. You deserve that.

Namaste,

Lola



P.S. If you need a nurturing and safe place to start, I would recommend Yoga with Adriene. She is such a calming presence and I feel tremendous gratitude towards this beautiful woman. I also adore Cat Meffan.

P.P.S. My beautiful floral yoga mat is from Popflex: https://www.popflexactive.com

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