I recently assigned my
current group of students in the Yoga Centre Winnipeg Teacher Training Program
the task of writing a blog about how yoga has changed their life, especially
during the Pandemic. I realized that I should start it off with my own experience.
Over a year into the
Global Pandemic Pema Chodron’s book title (not to mention her many teachings)
“Comfortable with Uncertainty” has become a regular mantra and practice. It is
something my yoga and meditation practice teaches me daily. Whether resting
with sensations in Sukhasana, struggling to find ease in a Shoulderstand, or
bringing my mind back to the breath in meditation, the practice reminds me that
things are always changing. A pose that is a struggle one day leaves me feeling
strong and embodied another. Too much of what I am comfortable with and I stop
paying attention. So it is with life.
The pandemic has had a
significant impact on the Yoga Centre Winnipeg. Like so many we have had to
face the disappointment and devastation of lengthy and unpredictable closures.
Classes and programs cut with no indication when they will resume. Long time
friends, students and colleagues once seen regularly are now “likes” on
Instagram or screen names on Zoom.
Yet, each closure has
brought with it surprise blessings: the amazing support from angels in the
community; the unexpected feeling of connection and success of online classes;
more time for practice; and deeper appreciation for teaching and life.
In so many ways the Taoist/Buddhist story of the old farmer rings true:
One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors
came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically. "May
be," the farmer replied.
The next morning the
horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. "How
wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed. "May be," replied the old
man.
The following day, his
son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The
neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. "May
be," answered the farmer.
The day after,
military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing
that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated
the farmer on how well things had turned out. "May be," said the
farmer.
We just do not know.
In some moments we have the grace to see the
blessings amongst the suffering, but generally when we are in the fire of our
suffering those blessings seem out of our grasp.
Yoga has taught me
that before I can appreciate the blessings mixed in with my struggles, I must fully
feel my discomfort and make friends with it.
Of course, this is easier
said than done. Like most people, when I
encounter pain, uncertainty, or anything remotely unpleasant, I want to fix it
or escape it. Yoga trains me to stay, to be with what is happening in this
moment exactly as it is and to be comfortable with myself exactly as I am.
Maybe that sounds like
fluff, but it works. Like anything it takes time and practice. It starts with
pausing and feeling my whole body as I take a breath in and out. When I take this pause, I find that everything
really is ok in that moment. If it is okay in that one moment, it can be okay
in the next.
As simple as this
sounds it is one of the most profound practices there is. Yet I forget it regularly,
especially when things get tough. For me, the yoga mat is an opportunity to
cultivate presence and have fun doing it. The more I build this capacity on the
mat, the more available it is in my daily life.
As this practice gets integrated
into my life, it allows me to the opportunity to see not just what is happening
in the moment, but that what happens in the moment is part of a much larger
collection of moments, and that each moment is both personal and universal.