That attempting to practise selflessly would lead me towards forgiveness…

 

In the classes at my yoga home our teachers often talk about Selfless Practice. 

I always set an intention for each class and practising for someone else can feel like the best thing to do in situations where you want to help but don’t know how.  I’ve practised for people close to me, for people I’ve never met but who I know are going through a challenging time… One thing I never imagined I’d be doing is practising for people who have hurt me. 

But I have.  And I do.

That might sound strange or suggest I’m a bit of a Pollyanna (not that I think there’s anything wrong with Pollyanna, actually). While I’ll admit that I’d rather be optimistic and I do want to see the best in people I am most certainly not perfect or ‘Yogier than Thou’. 

Here’s how attempting to practise selflessly unexpectedly led me towards forgiveness…

I’ve been told I am too nice on numerous occasions, (particularly in my career where I was told I would never get ahead if I didn’t change, yet I feel I’ve done okay so far). I don’t know that this is true at all because I don’t feel that I’m any more or less ‘nice’ than the average person.   But, whatever the truth may be, I’ve learned that I can’t be anything but myself.

Anyhow, my alleged ‘niceness’ led to a particular experience with someone last year which felt like such a betrayal that I found it baffling and deeply upsetting at the time.  It was one of those experiences where everyone else witnessing the situation got very angry on my behalf, with one person exclaiming that it was,”…like watching Bambi get run over by a tank!” And I was angry, which is about as rare as a rain-free Wimbledon tournament.  As it became apparent that this person’s actions were borne out of insecurity, that made me even more furious. “SO WHAT if he’s insecure?!” I ranted. “What’s he got to be insecure about exactly?!  I haven’t even done anything to him so why is that my problem?!  What the hell gives him the right to….”

Blah. Blah. Blah.

I don’t like drama, but boy did I get caught up in the whole thing.  I carried on with all the ‘woe is me’ stuff until I got all the ranting and swearing out of my system. 

Then I realised I hadn’t got it all out of my system, so I swore some more. 

All that was left afterwards was a dull, sad feeling.  I was completely bemused by the idea that someone I’d held in such high regard could possibly feel threatened by me.  By that point, this person wouldn’t speak to me directly either, so there seemed to be no way to resolve things.  I didn’t know what else to do.

Shortly after, I was rolling out my mat for class one day, trying not to think about what had been happening when a surprising thought popped into my head:

I could offer this practice – the next ninety minutes up to this person. 

I have no idea where that thought came from, but in that moment it felt like the right thing to do.  So, that’s exactly what I did.   The unexpected consequence of this is that I started to feel differently about the situation.  It’s not that I suddenly thought what had happened was okay – it absolutely wasn’t.  It was more that I couldn’t be angry at this person anymore.  I found myself hoping that in time they’d recognise there was no need for them to lash out at others with their insecurity (I subsequently learned that I wasn’t the first to be on the receiving end of this kind of behaviour…).   If only they could see just what they have.  How brilliant they are. 

I think… I forgave him. 

Where on earth did that come from?  For the girl who held a grudge for five years against the kid who chucked her favourite Kinder Surprise toy down the drain at school, this was something of a development. 

I hadn’t expected that in attempting to practise for someone else – someone who had upset me so much – it would help me in this way.  I have no idea if this kind of thing is a common experience to come out of one’s yoga practice or if it’s pretty random.  Either way it really surprised me because I hadn’t been doing it in order to get something back. 

Once again, yoga has shown me something new.  Another thing I am grateful for.

That it would bring up ‘stuff’ when I least expect it…

I had been fine all day. Chirpy, even.  The news hadn’t come as a surprise and it felt like such a relief that it was finally out in the open….

Buoyant, I bounce along in the early evening sunshine as I head to my regular class at my yoga home.  I think about the events of the day and the exciting possibilities ahead.

Happily on the mat in class, all is good.  And I feel strong.  Centred.  Then, after the first set of balancing something happens.  I feel very dizzy.  I come into child’s pose before I fall over.  Resting there for a few breaths I think I must just be having a bad day with the heat. I try to join back in with the class but almost instantly I feel overwhelmed, then nauseous, then… very emotional.  I never have the urge to leave the room during a class, but in that moment it’s all I want to do.  A mental battle ensues… I stay.

In half-pigeon with my forehead on the mat tears race to my eyes.  I fight them back.  Where have these tears come from…?!  We reach tree posture and I can’t even raise my foot to my ankle, never mind my calf or inner thigh.  Once more, I feel as though I am going to topple over, so I take child’s pose again, if only to avoid falling sideways and ‘taking out’ my poor unsuspecting neighbour.  It’s almost as though some invisible force is pushing me over every time I try to get up.  I don’t understand why I feel like this…

My teacher looks concerned, asks if I am alright and very kindly offers me some coconut water.  I tell her I am fine.  Just a bit dizzy. I think. 

Then, during the first Savasana of the class I am swamped by a strange mix of emotions.  Once more tears race to my eyes and this time I can’t stop them.  Again, I want to run out of the room but instead I lie there and try to focus on my breath as best I can.  My mind is racing…  I seem to make it through the rest of the class but it’s all a bit hazy.

After class I speak to my teacher who asks again if I am okay.  I start explaining that I felt really dizzy, then overwhelmed and then… I start sobbing uncontrollably.    Right there.  In the changing rooms.  In front of my teacher, I go into the ‘Ugly Cry’ (as Oprah calls it).  I am mortified and confused and unable to speak.  We go to the loos and when I get my breath back all I can do is apologise to my teacher for bursting into tears.  Through the sobs I eventually manage to explain I’ve had a bit of a weird day and that I was told that morning I am being made redundant.  But I don’t understand why I am crying – I’d already known it was coming, reconciled it in my head and ultimately know this is one of the best things that could happen for me right now. 

I am stunned because this has never happened to me in a yoga class before.  My teacher is very kind and reassures me that this is more common than I might think.  Emotions are a funny thing.  I’d had no idea that this ‘stuff’ was there.  I realise it was good to come and practice that day – what’s happened has helped me release some of the tension that’s been building up inside over the past several months.   And with some significant changes on the horizon – some exciting, some scary – I sense that practicing will help me in the coming months too.  It makes me feel even more grateful for the gift of yoga in my life.

That It Would Show Me I Have ‘Issues’…

I’ve realised that I have a bit of an issue with accepting my limitations.  While I am gradually learning and experiencing the benefits of the internal practice, at times I have a real struggle with the external, focusing on the physical aspects – namely what I ‘cannot’ do – and, wrongly, feeling a sense of frustration at my body.  I forget to be grateful for the body that I have.

I try to do things the right way and if I see how a posture is supposed to look, then that’s how I want to be able to do it. The trouble with this (for my ego, at least) is that my body won’t always let me get there.  I expect to be at ‘Level 5’, not taking into account that I need to move through ‘Levels 1-4’ first.

I’ve been really surprised to see where my physical practice has developed within just a few months of regular classes at my current yoga home.  For instance, being in Downward Dog (Adho Mukha Svanasana) has gone from feeling like mild punishment to an unexpectedly blissful place.  But my progress has stalled in certain areas, like the balancing sequence, for instance:

“If it’s available to you, you can take the full expression and kick out.”

It’s not available to me though. In my years of Bikram practice I was never able to kick out then either (or do toe stand, or… I could go on).  I find myself wondering if I ever will.  I know it shouldn’t frustrate me, but sometimes it does.  Surely, I should be able to do it by now, shouldn’t I…?

The penny recently dropped that this is part of a wider issue I have with perfectionism (as well as a bit of impatience).  And in the past I’ve learnt the hard way that perfectionism isn’t necessarily a good thing.   So, I’m not going to bring perfectionism into my yoga.  As one of my teachers often reminds us, it is called ‘yoga practice, not yoga perfect’.  Of course from time to time my ego still rears its head, disappointed that I am still not kicking out, but instead I just focus on doing the best I can.  And I try to do this with every posture that isn’t yet available to me.  I feel that as long as I know I am doing the best I can, in that moment, then my best is always good enough.

Here’s to imperfection.