The Lesson In Disguise

I love Yoga! I started about ten years ago and quickly made it a priority in my life. Practicing 5-7 days a week, sometimes two classes a day. Three years into it I noticed increased strength and flexibility, being able to attempt more and more poses, that had been totally out of reach. After five years the formerly challenging classes seemed easy and my endurance soared. I calculated that in another five years I’d be able to do handstand in the middle of the room and then slowly lower myself into wheel, before elegantly ending up in mountain pose at the front of my mat.

At the seven-year mark I injured my back (Yoga unrelated). I couldn’t move for months. The first few weeks I could barely crawl, let alone stand up. My lower back was so sore and stiff, despite many efforts on my part (physical and energetic therapies) that I was very happy and grateful when I was simply able to go for walks again.

As I got better, I grew more and more impatient to get back to my Yoga practice. A year and a half after the injury occurred, I finally went back. The first class was a gentle class. I was happy to be back. Two weeks later I went back to one of my favorite classes, I was determined to get back on track. The first half of the class went fine. I hadn’t lost all of my strength and flexibility, what a relief. Then came that fateful moment, when I had to ego perfect my upward facing dog. I overdid it. My back let me know immediately. I had to leave class early; barely made it to the car, tears stinging my eyes. This little ego stunt caused me another 9 months pause. When I finally went back to the gentle class, a lot more humble and happy to be there, I released my ten-year mark expectation of handstand in the room. Not only was I not there, my performance had decreased by 500%. I silenced myself and meditated on the real lesson.

Finally it came to me, quietly like a whisper, the real lesson of my Yoga practice was to learn about patience and compassion for myself and others. The gentle class was the perfect place to learn it. Again, I have to bow in front of this utterly perfect (so evasive for the ego) lesson plan.