Comfortable with Uncertainty

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.