Maxine Iharosy 2018
How does Yoga + Guilt go together at all? Allow me to explain.
After some time away from my practice I stepped tentatively into my office space, which consists of a desk in an otherwise empty room, lit up by a nice big window. Ideally this is the perfect setting for me to roll around frequently. Thing is, I hadn’t been tending to my practice during the holidays and I found myself playing shy within my own space.
How do I even begin? What does my body even need?
I spent the next half hour looking up videos in hopes to find a teacher to follow along with. To any yoga practitioner, especially if currently teaching, it can be very refreshing to take a class from another rather than self lead. But I knew what I was actually doing. I was buying time. After my fruitless search I closed my laptop and sighed.
I was buying time from facing the inevitable which was also something I very much wanted: my own self-led freeflow practice. To become present, aware and curious of how I was feeling within my body, here, now.
Eventually I gave into what I wanted and stopped playing shy. I found myself on the floor, a knee tucked into chest, rolling out into a long-time-coming twist (Supta Matsyendrasana). I stretched out my fingers, took a big sigh and for a moment was completely content and connected. I let myself move with intuitive curiosity from Childs pose (Balasana) up to a tall Mountain (Tadasana), then spiraling down to the floor again sweeping my fingertips across the wooden boards, outstretching my legs for an absolutely glorious moment in side plank (Vasisthasana).
Why didn’t I do this sooner? Why did I stop myself so many times? Why am I not more disciplined? And How long should I even do this for? I have so much to do.
In an instant my mind had set off on its own race against itself, my body and yearning spirit were left hanging and unsure.
Maybe there’s like a really potent and effective meditation or posture I can do to reaaally bring me present. Like I want to be so present. So. Present.
The chain of thought rattled on without hesitation until I was so inundated with my own mental talk that even I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when clarity swept in, I took a big breath, I chuckled and looked out the window.
Well, whatta know. I kept resisting the very thing I wanted, and when I let myself finally have it I felt guilt, and then not only did I feel guilt but I wanted to find the quick fix for feeling that way! What an amazing mess!
I smiled more and stood up.
This calls for a strong and simple stance.
I grounded my feet to the floor and welcomed the rebounding energy up through my body; a firm base for an ever reaching Mountain. I looked out the window and watched a melting icicle. I softened my eyes. Without any care for when and how it happened, I was a present being, aware and clear like a hollow reed.
Sutra 2.46: Stihra Suhkam Asanam
The posture of meditation should embody steadiness and ease.
– Translation by Chip Hartranft.
I took a cue from the icicle. The icicle is solid, it is captured fluidity. The water running down it’s sides I welcomed like streams of melt water within me, carrying away anything that felt frozen. I felt like I was thawing into the present moment. Each passing exhale would clear out built up conflict and stiffness of the physical, mental and emotional nature. This would run off down the sides of my body, down and out through the soles of my feet that were firm in my curiosity to explore this present moment as something to be seen, not passed by. I stood in Mountain pose and watched the icicle for a long time. Long enough that any thought to even be concerned about time dissipated. This was my practice.
An instinctual practice just finds itself to completion without concern for when and how. I bowed thanks to the icicle and smiled with some embarrassment at the thought of anyone ever knowing what I had just been through. That’s when I recognized my embarrassment as something to write about and told myself I couldn’t get away with it.
Okay. As long as you don’t make me watch the icicle again.
Says my brain.
There’s things to do.
I am inspired by the quiet teachings of everyday things, especially from nature. When it comes to learning from nature there isn’t a good or a bad way of going about things. In what I wrote above, I was inspired by the melting icicle to become present. Below is an example of switching nature teachings around, yielding to a similar path.
Reversing the Icicle Teaching:
Imagine an icicle forming one steady drip at a time. Every present moment you are forming the icicle of your attention. Steady and gentle, the water is cooled as it runs down the sides of what already is captured in stillness. The mind here is like the water that becomes completely engaged with building the icicle. The mind eventually turns itself over to one-pointedness. The tip of the icicle is gleaning and clear.