September
is National Yoga Month.
It’s hard
to believe it’s been almost a year since I went through the 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training Program—-- although not a day goes by without me feeling
the effects of this experience on my life.
I
realize now. It wasn’t only the yoga program itself that felt
transformative, it was larger than that.
As a
result of tackling something that felt profoundly scary and new to me—and
completing it, I had ventured outside my fixed idea about myself.
Pema Chodron, the Buddhist nun and author, says we all scramble for security and we
do this by clinging hard to fixed views on everything--- especially
ourselves--because to let go brings discomfort.
Letting
go of our cemented roles, our intense emotions about situations, and our
unconscious story line means dealing with change and uncertainty. Even when we
think we want change in our lives---it’s still stressful
letting go of our comforting illusion that everything is under our control and
happily static.
The truth
is life is fluid and always changing.
We can face this honestly and learn how
to let go or we can be in denial and resist it. As the Buddhists say, it's not
life's cyclical changes that causes us pain, it's our
resistance to it. When we cling to our youth, to our kids, to the way things
'used to be' that's what causes our suffering.
It's an
interesting thought isn't it?
Years ago
when I used to interview potential eating disorder patients, I would actively
look for entrances and exits that had recently happened in their lives.
This was
how I got a picture of their current stress level.
Births
and deaths, marriage, separation, divorce, job loss or job change, relocation,
leaving home for the first time. Becoming an empty nester.
These are
all transitions that create a feeling of groundlessness in our lives; instead
of that comfy, safe feeling we like, it feels like things are shifting
underneath our feet and we feel vulnerable. This instability is stressful,
whether the change is positive or negative, and I think it’s important to
recognize this.
This is a way we can find compassion for
ourselves when life feels overwhelming and we're longing for stability.
Chodron has a name for our dilemma; she calls this the fundamental ambiguity of
being human.
As human
beings, we’re all in the same boat. We crave stability in a world that is
constantly changing. And some of us are better than others at adapting and
tolerating newness in our lives, although generally the more uncomfortable we are with
change, the more we will latch on to 'sameness.'
The more
we need to feel in control.
So if
you’re like me—a person who likes to feel in control and knowledgeable, signing up for a teacher training
program as a beginner yogi with a fifty-six year old body and a bad back, well,
are you getting the full picture here?
It’s a
prescription for unpredictability and stress.
I still
remember that first day sitting on the floor of the mirrored yoga studio. I had
just recovered from a back sprain and I was gazing around the circle at my fellow
students wondering what the heck I had got myself into---I was clearly the oldest
person in the class---and as I listened to the introductions, I began to feel
more out of place than ever.
Little did I know how much my body--and my
mind-- would change as a result of this decision.
So today --in honor of this sentimental anniversary-I
thought I would share a few things I learned from jumping head first into
a commitment that made me deal with these three issues:
1. On not being ready
(“How can I do
this?...It feels too soon”)
What I learned:
When I think of ‘readiness,’ I remember a conversation that
happened when I was a graduate student. I remember it because it taught me a
truth about life that I didn’t yet understand. I was always the good little
student in school who did things in order. At that point I needed pieces of paper—diplomas, professional titles—to
make me feel secure and confident. But one of the first tasks I had after I
landed my dream job on an Eating Disorder Unit at a LA hospital, was to give a
welcome speech and tour to a reception of prominent clinicians from around the
area.
As a graduate student, I was terrified. These were all seasoned
professionals in the field I aspired to---and I felt like an utter imposter. I
was aware of being the only one in the room without a Master’s degree and this
made me feel totally inadequate. The medical director—a gifted psychoanalyst-
took me to lunch and listened to my fears explode all over our food, and then
he quietly smiled and told me I’d be fine.
“Just pretend as if,” he instructed.
What? I was flabbergasted. But that’s not how I feel inside, I
thought.
Wasn’t this being fake?
(Yes, I was that naïve and sincere)
It wasn’t until years later that I understood his advice; I now
know there are times when you simply don’t feel ready for what you need to do.
And so you do your best. I also know that too much trepidation can lead to
“analysis-paralysis” and missed opportunities.
Is there some dream or goal you’re thinking about doing? My advice is that
once you’ve done your proper homework, you might have to accept that
emotionally you may never feel ‘perfectly’ ready. But there are times when the
act of choosing Motion changes Emotion.
2. On being too intimidated
(“Oh no—I can’t do this—it’s totally
outside my comfort level”)
This is what I’ve learned:
I am not a seeker of scary experiences. Let me be clear about that.
There’s no one that likes a comfy routine more than me. But one
thing I’ve learned from relocating cites and selling our family home (2 years
ago) in my fifties, is that big changes inject your life with a newfound
energy. All of sudden you’re looking around with a pair of new eyes. You find
yourself growing in unexpected ways simply because you’re outside your comfort
zone and everything feels terribly new.
Suddenly anything seems possible.
But no, you don't have to move and be totally uprooted to have a similar feeling. I've found that change in baby steps is manageable.
Here’s one way to feel good about yourself. Introduce something new and
positive to your life, but make it small. Just do it every day for a set
period of time. Even a week is good. And finish it.
The next thing you know, you’re walking around with a feeling of
accomplishment about this one positive thing you’ve done. And
suddenly, you’re seeing yourself differently and who knows what's next?
It's this openness to new experiences that keeps us growing.
3. On being too old
(“This is a
younger person’s world, I’m too old to do this”)
This is what I learned:
When I was sitting in that class on the first day of training I
was excruciatingly aware of my age. Although some of it is simple reality.
When I walk into a hot yoga class on any given day, I tend to be
surrounded by mostly younger women. Some men too. Looking back now, I realize
so much of my struggle during my teacher training period was clearly related to
being the oldest person in the room--and how it made me feel. This was new to me. Adding to my
self-consciousness was my lack of yoga experience and my recent injury which
left me with a sore back and a cautiousness about certain poses.
Do you want to feel instantly old? Try walking around with bad
back.
Oh--and then be totally clueless about the topic.
Pema Chodron writes about the way we erect labels and credentials
around our self-image to feel secure: it's like our armor. It helps us put solid ground under our
feet in an ever shifting world. And when things start to fall apart, she tells
us to look around. It’s usually when our fixed idea of “This is Me” is
being challenged.
I felt this happen to me in each class as I fumbled with
memorizing and forgetting material that was foreign to me; suddenly I became aware
of how my self-worth was tied up in my image of being good at something. Of
feeling educated and knowledgeable. Here I was, a total beginner at something. And it didn't feel good.
So I learned a little more about being humbled.
But here’s something else I took away from the experience.
I recently turned 57 years old and I’m proud of it.
I feel blessed to have a strong
body and a curious mind. Even thought I'm still reading Chodron's book, I know that this idea of
living beautifully with uncertainty is not a pretty Pinterest worthy image. In
fact it’s downright messy and uncomfortable and even painful at times.
It means
dealing with loss. It means we have to accept that nothing stays the same which can be scary, and
it means we must learn how to let go gracefully when it’s time.
Whether it’s our image of our self as a young, wrinkle-free woman
that we need to adjust, or an image of our self with a certain job title, or whether it's stepping away from our adult kid and letting them struggle.
I'm still learning about letting go. But I really believe we get closer to discovering
the essence of our inner beauty when we’re willing to shed our armor.
Can you relate to this post?
xo
