Several years ago I attended my first-ever advanced yoga workshop.
I had lingered in Level 1 classes for years — focusing on the basics. My intention with the yoga was on alleviating chronic anxiety, dealing with stress-related physical problems, and learning to deal with my mental health.
At some point, I noticed the physical benefits of my yoga practice. My back felt stronger. My hips loosened up. My energy lasted a bit longer each day.
Then I began to enjoy the challenge of the harder poses. It made me feel strong when I pushed myself to do just a little bit more than I thought I was capable of.
I admired the women who could spring easily up into handstand. I wanted to be like them.
In fact, I longed for it. In my dreams I would perform sun salutations without soaking my mat with sweat. I yearned to look & be effortless in each pose.
The flyer for the advanced yoga workshop spoke to me. I chose it as my personal goal. I wanted to see if I could handle the challenge. For months I practiced diligently, anticipating what would be required of me.
I arrived to the workshop early the first day. A few women sat outside the studio waiting for the door to be opened. I tried to sit calmly and wait, but inside my nerves jittered with anticipation. Would I be able to cut it in an advanced yoga workshop alongside these women who performed their lovely poses with their nimble bodies.
I wanted to be like them — perfectly poised in plough pose and barely breaking a sweat in bakasana.
We sat outside the studio, facing our reflections in the window glass. Someone complimented someone else on her new hairstyle, and conversation ensued among all of the women.
I felt more at ease. Not only were these women yoga goddesses in my eyes, but they were also nice. They were flexible and they were friendly.
When the conversation took a turn toward the real, I knew that I would be ok in the weekend workshop.
One of the more graceful yoginis discussed her thighs. Oh, how she hated them, she said. Another wished for liposuction. Soon there was a chorus of women lamenting their “problem areas.”
The funny thing was I didn’t see any of their so-called ‘thunder thighs,’ ‘saddlebags,’ or ‘batwings.’
I looked up to each one of them as if I were a little sister admiring her more sophisticated, wiser sister. They were elegant, evolved and strong. That’s all I saw.
I may have started my own personal advanced yoga workshop before I even set foot in the studio that day.
If these beauties were unhappy with so many aspects of themselves, how was I EVER going to be happy with me?
Did my perception of myself as a short, thick-hipped woman whose skin resembles Casper the Friendly Ghost match the reality of who I am?
Was it possible to achieve the perfect strength in the perfect yoga pose, develop poise and beauty, find the “perfect” relationship and still be unhappy about a few things?
Clearly, the answer was ‘yes!’
The studio door opened. I went inside.
I was there to do some poses. But the most important thing posed that day were these questions:
How do I learn to work toward my full potential, and accept the things about myself that I can’t change?
How do I know when it’s time to set a goal and work hard toward it because I know it will make me better? Not just superficially better, like lipo. But really better.
How do I know when it’s time to give up on something because it’s causing too much pain? Like trying to be the perfect wife or teacher or working too hard at looking good or being liked?
These are tough questions I asked myself that day as well as today, and I will probably ask them again tomorrow.
And then I’ll do another downward-facing-dog pose.