The Yoga Before Class

In their translation of The Yoga Sutras, Geshe Michael Roach and Christie McNally use a movie metaphor to explain our relationship to reality.  They say that when a kid sees a man doing something wrong on a movie screen, he might tell the character to stop, or he might try to restrain the man.  Neither one will work.

Their point is, most of the problems we think we face are exactly like the example.  The choices we most naturally see usually address symptoms of the problem, not the underlying problem itself.  Until we can identify and fix the underlying problem, we are destined to make the wrong choice, and our suffering will continue.

One of my projects lately has been to try to identify the real issues behind conflicts I feel, to ask myself whether the options that I see in front of me address mere symptoms and whether the situation offers me any opportunity to plant new seeds that will lead to a better set of choices in the future.

At no time have I thought more about all of this than the five minutes before my yoga class.  The truth is that I care a whole lot about how I am regarded at what is, in my incredibly biased view, the best fLKLing yoga studio on the planet.  There's no real reason for me to worry.  My studio is an accepting and nurturing space.  Yet I worry, for no reason I could ever identify, what the teachers, staff, and other yogis think of me.

In the spirit of planting new and better seeds, let's see if we can peel back the onion and figure out a little bit of what the real cause of my concern is.  Because they're the ones getting paid, let's talk about the instructors.  I definitely, definitely care about what a few of the instructors at Franklin Street think of me.  Why might that be?

Because I like people, and I like to connect with those I see on a regular basis?  Yup, sans doute, as my French friend Colette would say.

Because these instructors are kind and wonderful people?  Yes they are, and those are definitely the type of people whose admiration and respect matters to me.  So far, so good.

Because they are advanced practitioners of something about which I care deeply and have dedicated a good part of my life?  Yeah, ok, but I'm starting to feel a little nervous.

Because...

AHA!!

Because they are the teachers, and I am used to getting As?

Because I want to be Super Yogi, the best yogi in the whole class and the object of admiration for all who behold me?

Because I want to win?

...and is some part of me trying to win yoga by writing this blog right now?

Hmm.  Hmm hmm hmm.

Keep in mind that I don't think either of these four potential reasons is innately better than the others.  I won't diss my competitive urges, because they've gotten me pretty far in life.  That said, when I walk into my studio, in addition to all the wonderful feelings and the completely awesome joy of seeing friends again, I do have a hint of insecurity, and that insecurity is something I want to move past.

Knowledge is power.  Lately I've been trying to take steps to fight the urge to win yoga.  In the first Warrior or Down Dog, I'm trying to let my body warm up, rather than going for it right away.  When my legs just aren't feeling it, I do a quick straighten, I shake it out a little bit, and I go back into the pose.  I'm trying not to hold poses any more just for the sake of, I MUST HOLD THIS POSE BECAUSE I AM A YOGI, DAMNIT.

And it all feels great.  It feels right.

I wonder if I could get to be as good a friend with that anonymous person in the back row as I am with Lori.