#17 :momentum
For me, the hardest part of yoga is getting my ass to yoga class.
As a teacher, I often greet my yoga students with gratitude and appreciation for being at class before we even start practice.
Hey, you showed up today.
That’s a big deal.
Well done, you!
I have been practicing yoga for hundreds of years, teaching others the practice for many of those years. All that experience, all those hours on the mat, all the hours reading sacred tantric teachings, I still find the hardest part of yoga is getting my ass TO the mat. Home practice for me is impossible, due to distractions, cats, lack of space, distain for online yoga classes, not to mention lack of discipline and motivation.
From my perspective, practicing yoga in community is extremely important. I didn’t understand quite how important until COVID lockdown, when my poor yoga community sheltered in place, being forced by health mandates into zoom versions of their favorite classes.
It was better than nothing, but not by much.
Now, COVID is, well, over, I guess, and we are back to practicing in community.
Hallelujah. The very life force of other yogis practicing in a non-virtual space is back again.
And yet….I still have to fight the urge skip class and do more “important things.” I still have the litany of excuses of why I’m too busy/tired/grumpy/exhausted/nauseous/drunk/old/achy to go to class.
I have always been fascinated by endurance athletes.
The grit, the discipline, the mental game of being uncomfortable.
I honor it because I possess none of it.
Let’s take Dean Karnazes for example. He has run 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 consecutive days, run across Death Valley in the middle of summer, and run a marathon to the South Pole. He has written several fascinating books and is a popular motivational speaker.
Once I read an interview where a reporter asked him what he found to be the hardest part about running ultra distances.
I was intrigued when he said, and I paraphrase, that without question, the hardest part of every single run is lacing up his shoes and starting the run.
“You know, I love it when people say listen to your body. And I say, if I listened to my body, I'd be sitting on the couch all day, eating pizza and drinking beer, you know, that's what everyone's body wants to do.
But sometimes it's just a matter of lacing up your shoes and getting out the door, just forcing yourself to do it, but I'll tell you what - the most difficult challenge is just getting out the door, because once you get out the door, the momentum builds on itself. And inevitably you're so much more satisfied when you walk back through the door, than when you took off.”
Once he gets through the uncomfortable first ten minutes of the run, he finds a groove, a rhythm, a pace. And that’s where he relaxes, sinks in and momentum takes over.
And somehow he can run more miles than I can drive comfortably in my car.
Recently, a dear friend invited me to join her for a 6:00 yoga class. I said I couldn’t go. I told her I had (very vague) plans to spend time with my teenage son.
Groan.
I used the Mom excuse.
I’m not proud.
Predictably, my son made other plans.
I was disappointed. I moped. I sunk deeper into the couch. I worried about his grades, college admissions, the global political climate, the actual climate. I stressed about groceries and my retirement savings and my upcoming oncology appointments. I watched a documentary on natural disasters. It was a very productive anxiety session.
If only I had gone to class, I would be feeling grounded and strong in my body, not grumpy and disappointed in front of YouTube.
I didn’t exactly lie to my friend, spending time with my kid wasn’t an outright fabrication. However, I had all the room in the world to make a different decision.
A different decision would have led me down a different path (the one that I know makes me feel healthy, strong, grounded…) than the depressing mopey path I chose.
Don’t get me wrong, on any of our paths, there is a time for rest. There is a time to hold back and show restraint.
pangolins all curled into balls..
I am aware that I just compared running hundreds of miles to taking a yoga class, and I am aware that they are not the same thing. I do dare to say, however, the resistance is the same. It’s the resistance I feel when I know I should be making a healthier, more productive choice and I knowingly curl into a ball like a pangolin.
I think about my Friday yoga class. This class consists of the most amazing group of yogis.
They are consistent.
They show up because this class, this time of day and week, has become sacred. It’s important to them for reasons that go way beyond my reach as a teacher.
I’m 100% convinced it’s because the energy created by a room full of people breathing together, of moving and balancing and being mindful is the true power of this practice.
All ages. All abilities. All bodies. Everyone practices their own individual practice, while being energetically lifted by the other people practicing alongside them.
So, don’t look for motivation to get to class. Make it a non-negotiable, critical meeting that you block off for your own health.
And then show up.
