Leaving Shoes - and Ego - at the Door

It's my last night in the tree house.

My loneliness passed as soon as I realized that my time here was nearly over. Adrenalin kicked in and I knocked off all the remaining tasks on my retreat to-do list.

Or maybe that surge of energy came from an amazing Vinyassa class that I took at the Yoga Barn.  For the uninitiated, Vinyassa is an approach to yoga that very specifically synchronizes the breath with movement. Vinyassa is often described as a “flow”  because of the way that the yogi moves with her or his breath from one asana to another. It’s one of my favorite forms of yoga, mostly because it can be very active and, at the same time, as gentle or as challenging as the student want to make it.

Vinyassa can also be humbling.  During the class, our instructor Bonnie was walking around in between mats, making adjustments to people as they went through various poses. I assumed I would not be the subject of an assist. After all, I do a lot of yoga. I teach yoga, for crying out loud. I must be doing it right. And yet, in the middle of Virabhadrasana (Warrior) 2,  a pose I’ve done hundreds of times, Bonnie came over to me and began making slight adjustments. She moved my hand to the right, tucked my hip back to the left, and – voila - I felt better, stronger and more energized. Go figure.

Yoga is described as a practice for a reason. No matter how often you do it, there’s always room to learn more. We may never reach perfection. I once took a workshop with an Iyengar instructor who told me that he had been studying a particular type of Pranayama, or breathing, for two years. He said he was almost ready to begin teaching it.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could take an openness to humility off the mat and into our daily lives?  With humility comes a sense of empowerment when we are willing to learn, accept an assist and make some adjustments. The result is that we can do better – we can be better – no matter what we are facing.

I once saw a sign at a yoga studio asking people to leave their shoes and egos at the door.

Pretty good advice for life, I think.

namaste, gin