Change

Doing yoga at home. Up dog, push up, down dog, round and round through the sun salutation I go. For twenty-four years I’ve done yoga, preferably weekly. It does wonders for the stiff and creaky everythings of being human. Yoga alone is better than no yoga at all, but I often find myself stuck in my ways without another person urging me to think just a little bit differently, stretch my mind and grow.

Today, I am left with my own devices to try and think outside my patterns. I decide early on in the practice that I am going to do a harder balance series at the end, even though for whatever reason my body is full of extra stiff and creaky at the moment.

As long as I can remember, I set hard goals, sometimes really hard goals and then don’t stop until I reach them: all A’s, a certain number of pull-ups (I can’t even do one anymore). These goals have tendrils so deep in my thinking, down to the smallest of tasks, “Fold this laundry and put it away!” A feat of strength when I am so tired I can’t keep my eyes open. At each victory, a fleeting sense of accomplishment that drives me to set the next goal, round and round, an unfulfilling sun salutation.

Not today, the stiff and creakys win. A different decision is made, almost unconsciously, even though no one is there to point out the long-standing pattern. “Difficult balance pose,” gives way to lie down face first on the mat, “child’s pose.” I give in, give up, let go. My inner observer notices something new. A feeling arises that has only existed in places where I didn’t strive or set those hard goals: my marriage, relationships with my kids, friendships. The inner observer, excited, directs an experiment. Thinking about the hard balance pose, creates the emotional result = unfulfilled. Thinking about giving in and lying down on my mat, yields the opposite = fulfilled.

The therapist brain pipes up, “What are you suggesting exactly? Are you thinking it is important to do nothing? We all clearly need to strive to thrive, maybe even to survive in this world.” This statement appears as a deep hewn trench in my psyche, a veritable Grand Canyon etched in my personality. Psychologically speaking, we call this an Implicit Memory, a perception of the world laid down so early in our brain development that we see the thought as, “THE WAY THE WORLD IS.”

Eyes open, forehead on the yoga mat, my view is limited and at the same time, I see much more than before.