Yet I was completely won over by yoga. While I was originally drawn to the physical elements of the practice, it’s the benefit to my mental health that has kept me going. Just being in the yoga room calms me - crystals, music and all. Chanting has come to signify the start of a welcome break from the demands of the day. At the beginning of a session I can feel the worries fluttering in my head like anxious butterflies. By the end those butterflies are, if not basking in the sun, at least taking the occasional moment to pause.
As expected, I also enjoy the physicality of yoga. It’s a bit acrobatic and there’s a child-like joy to be taken in orienting your body differently, sticking your bum in the air, turning upside down, rolling on the floor. There’s the exhilaration when you “get” something, most recently, for me, an unassisted headstand. The feeling of accomplishment. The pleasant ache of muscles that have been used.
I only attend class once a week so my progress with the poses of the practice is relatively slow, but my dance training ensures that I am able to follow physical instructions relatively easily and retain corrections. I do not, however, seem to be much good at any of the non-physical parts of yoga. Just the fact that I am making this statement – about being good (or not) at any of it – indicates how not-good I am at certain aspects of yoga.
Because that’s the thing – from what I understand from my yoga teachers, yoga is not about achievements. To use the language of contemporary art, it is more about process than product. As far as I can tell, you’re not supposed to get all “yay for me” every time you accomplish a new pose. “Accomplish” is probably completely the wrong word. You see, this idea - of practicing something for the sake of it, without becoming bound up in measuring progress - is so alien to me that I find it difficult to find words that don’t belong to the language of achievement.
Equally, if you are not yet able to get into a pose (note I remembered not to use the word ‘can’t’) you are not supposed to get frustrated… no matter how long you have been attempting that pose. For me, brought up on a potent mix of gymnastics, dance and academia, it’s like trying to learn to speak a new language. It’s a foreign concept in every sense.
And then there’s those aforementioned thought-butterflies. Whilst it is true that my butterflies are a lot more peaceful by the end of a session, they are very… visible in my mind. The idea of yoga is that the time is used to think about yoga. Not about work. Not about what you will have for dinner. Not about whether there will be time to get to the shops to buy the ingredients for that dinner. Again, you are not supposed to berate yourself for having these thoughts, but rather simply acknowledge them and let them go. I find this… mmm pretty much impossible. Then I get cross with myself for my lack of discipline.
Breathe in and raise the arms – "I’ve got to write that article for Steve next week." Breathe out and fold forward – "Must remember to double-check the deadline." Breathe in and look up – "I’d better get the interview set up." Breathe out and jump the legs back – "Oh hold on, didn’t I email someone last week about that?" Breathe in and lower the body into upward dog – "If I did email them they really should have responded by now." Breathe out and move to downward dog – "Well then, the ball's in their court." Stay there for 5 breaths – "Hmmm but did I email them? Oh hang on, I’m meant to be concentrating on my breathing. Hmmmm, I wish I could just check my email quickly. Breathing! Aaaaargh!"
Yep. I haven’t really got this “concentrating on my practice” thing going. In fact, I feel like it is getting worse as I go… when I first started yoga it was new, so I had to concentrate on what I was doing. Now that it is more familiar I can multi-task, allowing my body to do its thing and my mind to go elsewhere. That would be fine, even efficient use of time, except that one of the main reasons I practise yoga is to give my poor over-thinking brain some time off.
The funny thing is that, in spite of my weak-willed mind, I do come out of yoga feeling incredibly blissed-out. So maybe it’s ok that I engage in a battle with my own thoughts each week rather than a peaceful meditation on my breath?
Ommmmmm