Raise your hand if you like control. ??♀️
Any ‘80s babies out there who liked Janet Jackson’s song Control as much as I did? ??♀️
Turns out that so much of our journeys through life all loop back around to the fact that control is simply an illusion.
I am a runner. I’ve spent seasons of my life running and training for races from 5Ks to marathons. I re-embraced running last spring when I healed and was healthy and up and out of bed and I ran the Broad Street 10 Miler in Philadelphia. I fell away from it during the summer and then in the fall I came back, full force. Running became my daily warmup to my meditation session, Monday through Friday, starting at 5am. I loved every bit of it.
The repetition of the sound of your feet hitting the road in the still-night air, the huff of your breath, in and out, slow at first, and then quicker paced, but always rhythmical. The act of running in and of itself became meditative for me.
Zero stretching and short quick runs without a break on repeat, though, and my back became a hot mess. My chiropractor recommended yoga to help ease my pain. So, I dipped in to yoga here and there in the late fall, and one day a week turned into 5 days a week. My 90/10 run/yoga life quickly turned into 100% yoga.
Now. Let’s rewind. I was introduced to yoga back in 2002. At 22, alongside my best friend and roommate, we had read an article that said yoga really can help lengthen your muscles and help to tone and make lean most any physique. In that season of beer and buffalo wings and late nights, we hoped (unsuccessfully) that perhaps adding some avocados and a little ashtanga and kundalini yoga might help whittle our waistlines. Sigh. Nope.
Years went by. Running prevailed.
Then we moved to San Francisco and I became a student of bikram yoga at a studio down the hill from our house. I LOVED it. Lights on. Mirrors everywhere. 105 degrees with 40% humidity, standard. Like a Catholic mass, you can drop into any bikram studio on the planet and it is the exact same… the sequence is the same, the poses are the same, the length of time you hold said poses is the same. You know what to expect moment to moment, and, when you become a regular, you can sort of slide out of worrying about what comes next and move more confidently and more meditatively from one pose to the next and deepen and strengthen your knowledge of the poses. Additionally, you can easily track your own progress compared to the yogis around you because you all move as one, and you can also compare you to yourself. Control. Expectations. Safety. Comfort. Yes.
Years later, I moved back to the east coast and back to New Jersey. A dear friend introduced me to flow.
Ohhhh no.
Lights are off, music is blaring, or soft, or current, or old school, or trippy. The instructor tells you what to do but encourages you to “do what your body needs.” “Listen to your body, feel the music.” Panic. Some people are doing head stands or hand stands or moves like I’ve never seen…which was not what that lady just very clearly said for us to do. In a certain order. Order!! Order in the court. Hello, people. Crap. Crow. Pigeon. Bird of Paradise. So many birds. Why all the birds? Utkatasana. Trikanasana. Chaturanga Dandasana. Surya Namascar. I. Mean. What is happening?! No. Control. No. Gracias. I stayed away for years. Literally. Like 6 years. After that one yoga experience. Six. Years. Anti yoga. I liked running. It’s me and the air and my breath and my body and silence and no one else. Everything I do is up to me.
But…then…my back. So return to present.
In I go. At the gym. Past all the weights and treadmills and ergs that I know so well. Back. To the dark room. That smells so nice. With the music. With the head stand people. By myself. For my back. But wow. What an education I have had. The lessons I have learned about control are deep and true.
I had no clue what I was doing when I showed up but I have learned over the last 5 months:
- If you just simply continue to show up, you will eventually learn and improve. Sometimes showing up is the hardest part.
- Consistency, in any habit, yoga or otherwise, breeds progress.
- It actually is possible to listen to your body. I used to laugh (is my body going to talk to me? How, pray tell, am I supposed to know that my body needs to drop into a cat/cow or a compass or tree pose?) But all of the creaks and the snaps and the tightness and the weakness and the strength we all feel… it’s not a fluke or a mere common annoyance….it is actually the wisdom of the body we were gifted *trying* to communicate to you where you need to focus your intention.
- In the beginning, I didn’t know the words, some of the poses were different from my bikram life and I barely knew my locust from an up-dog. But consistency breeds knowledge which ignites a desire for habit which builds familiarity which creates a sense of community. And THAT is what keeps us going and growing.
- I noticed that I actually live in the present moment quite well. I feel so safe when the instructor is guiding us through the sequence. I’m here. Then I’m here. Then I’m here. Then I’m here. Deep breath. I am HERE!! But. Eventually his or her voice goes away. And I noticed I began to panic. Crap!! Come back!! Guide me, PLEASE!! And then I would try to find someone who looked like they had half a clue as to what was going on and I would follow them. And that was fine for a while. A dear friend, a former cheerleader, said she loved the mental challenge of remembering the flow, akin to her former world of choreography. She enjoyed being in her head and remembering this, then this, then this. I learned in a new way that I am not a strong planner or forward thinker, but that I am present in each moment. This was reinforced by a meditation I did one day where they discussed serendipity vs plans, encouraging the listener to step outside of the planning and embrace serendipity. I noticed that I LIVE in serendipity and need to plan. The more I show up to yoga though, I have found that there is a magical space…. where you don’t need to plan, and you can just be. A sweet spot of sorts. I follow no more. I close my eyes and I have begun, without planning, to feel what comes next. And to listen and learn what is my next right move…and because it’s been walked through a few times, my body actually *does* now know what to do. I didn’t know that was actually possible. I think that’s what people mean when they say someone is “in the flow?” And it’s only been a few times but it’s AMAZING and it’s worth all the mess ups and mistakes and awkwardness along the way. “Free…at last. Out here on my own.” Sing it, Janet!
- Sometimes the flows get complicated. And my control-loving brain wants to get it right. And I get overwhelmed and I get lost and I want to find my way. I have come to learn that those times are actually gifts because there is freedom in abandoning entirely that complicated path, and just doing whatever the eff I want lol. I practice things that I’m working on (side crow, head stands, one leg wheel). In life, turns out, same same. If you’re trying to fit yourself into a complicated situation, reflect, is this worth the panic and stress of grasping and seeking and copying and marching along on the path with all the rest…or is it actually better to go rogue in my own best interest? Go rogue if it will serve you!! Who knew that was ever an option?
- I also love that at the end of each class, no matter what happened, whether you laid on your back the entire time or whether you got brave and tried something knew, whether you were lost or became found, it always ends the same way… after a time of rest on our backs, we roll onto our right sides, in a sort of nod to the fetal position, and we acknowledge that we are born again, we begin again. Great or awful, whether our movements were like a symphony or a cluster storm of a train wreck, it’s all over. In our past. Behind us. And now, every single time, we begin again. Every moment. Every minute. Every day. Whatever happened back there? Gone. Stop fighting the now-nonexistent fight. Stop rehearsing what you’d say to your boss. Your spouse. Your child. Stop rehashing you’re victories and failures. Just stop. Just be. Just begin again.
I never knew yoga was really the door to deep, deep learning. It all seemed kinda hippy dippy and cool, man ✌?. But the older I get, the more I see that those types of judgements really aren’t becoming, and the more I open myself up to new experiences, again, yoga or otherwise, the more I’m learning that there are entire worlds available to us if we just say yes. Maybe yoga isn’t calling your name. Perhaps it’s something else entirely. A certification in your job. A new career. A new sport. A new hobby. A race. Whatever it is you want out there… go get it! We don’t have infinite time, and if there is something you can reach for that makes you a little nervous or a little scared or you had a bad experience once and you don’t think you can do it again? How EXCITING!! What a time to be alive! Write a book. Restore a car. Do a triathlon. Flip a house. Take the course. Volunteer. Make the recipe. Say you’re sorry. Pick up the phone. You can do this! Let go of your need to control and know how the story ends… just show up and be brave. You’ve got this. ??
Care to share your thoughts?