Yoga Makes Me a Better Person
Wednesday and no Travel Approval. I oscillate between angry and desperately sad, without much in between. I went to work today, but don’t remember much about it. Tomorrow I will meet seventy new engineering students, and I will begin the process of teaching them physics, and for almost all of them my class will be the most challenging of their academic careers so far. I will do this, but as soon as I am done, I will check my e-mail to see if my TA arrived.
On Monday, I was simply feeling impatient. Today I am unhinged. I have spent enough of my life this way that I can actually function pretty well in a maniacal state, and most people will never know about the scary circus being performed in my head. In fact, it has only been apparent to me since I turned thirty. Unhinged was the lowest energy state in my family; the state spontaneously returned to again and again. I still struggle to leave that behind.
Only as an adult have I learned how to find my center. As an athlete, this most always involves some physical challenge. I can float about that center while swimming laps, descending a mountain, or being in a pose on the yoga mat. The yoga mat demands the most honesty. There is no escape into anything else… it’s just you and you. In our culture, which is built around distraction, this is an amazing opportunity. It’s also somewhat terrifying if you’ve never been taught to accept yourself as you are, untidy emotions and everything.
There are two places in the world where I can truly accept my emotional state instead of hating myself for not being a Vulcan. One of these places is in the presence of my dear friend Art (who gently reminds me not to start sentences with “I should feel…”), and the other place is on the yoga mat. I intend to add to this list. Check back with me in another thirty years.
Part of my agonizing ride the past few days has been the obvious: I am THIS close to my child, but have absolutely no control over when she will be in my arms, and that is crazy-making. But part of it has been more subtle: I am upset with myself for not being cool, detached, level-headed. I would love to have a Thich Nhat Hanh-like state of mind right now (or anytime, really) but if someone handed me his “Peace is Every Step” at the moment, I’d throw it across the bloody room. Yoga for me is not about detachment or achieving nirvana. It’s really about the moments, and how to accept myself within them. In that place, tortured or not, every breath is a miracle, a gift from the universe.
Now let’s all cross fingers and toes and eyes in that strange and rather modern yoga pose of wishing, and make that TA arrive tomorrow! Namaste.