Lesson in the gift of pig headedness.

Now, after having done prior preparation through life and other practices, the study and practice of Yoga begins. -- Yoga Sutra I.1


Today, I discovered something wonderful! I'm pig headed. {Read: Perseverant.} Of course I knew I was stubborn, i'm rather tender towards my stubbornness. It has started countless arguments. It's the me that can be rigid and inflexible at times. It's also the me that is fiercely loyal to my friends and family, the me that once wounded is very slow to forget. Yet, I never realized what it meant for me. 


Today I attended my first workshop. An Arm Balance workshop taught by Jamie Lee. I had no idea what to expect, I felt silly for having even registered. We warmed up with Sun Salutations, and the routine of it was comforting. There weren't any obviously daunting classmates, none that struck me as having mastered the art of balancing calmly on just their hands. It would end up that the girl with her mat next to mine was very good at balancing. I hardly saw her look around the room, she just stayed centered and suspended. In moments I would envy her. Envy has become a problem for me lately, in the classroom. I took a class on thursday, where the practitioner behind me could bend herself forward completely and keep her back {even her low back} perfectly straight. I would pull and tense and push and  tighten and loosen and still end up with a rounded back, a smug set of hips, and a frustrated Julia. But unlike thursday, with guidance from Jamie, I was able to come back to my mat, and think "This is perfect. exactly like this. The next step is just an improvement on this perfection. We are fine getting good getting great getting greater." Soon, the more I let go of my judgements, the quieter my head was, the more I could listen to my body whispering instructions.  Once that happened, that my body quietly instructed that we actually could physically do these postures, something shifted. My stubbornness became an ally. I kept falling and kept smiling to myself and I kept going back to the pose. Sometimes I even managed to stay in the pose! The greatest moment for me was the discovery that from standing, the road to a wall-supported handstand is just like how you do a cartwheel! I lived for cartwheels and being upside down as a kid. I did the acro-jazz, the monkey bars, and the headstands against every wall in our home. So, I wound up, pointed my toes, and planted my hands and kicked. When my feet actually hit the wall behind me, I was so shocked I actually stared in the mirror. The stare broke into a smile, and I played around with my balance for a moment before letting myself fall to the floor, and then tried it again, and again, and again. Success, Failure, Success, Success, Failure, Success. The discovery of that determination was worth more than a perfect posture, or praise, or even how I felt compared to someone else's accomplishments. It was mine, and that doggedness would get me everywhere I already am, and everywhere I need to be. 


Namaste