Stress happens, we learn to adapt. This is the heart of resiliency; it is perhaps more importantly an acceptance of the truth of constant change.
Today, “Yoga” is undergoing a sea change. What is Yoga? Is it Fitness? Is it Weight-lifting? Should the room be hot? How about music? Is it alignment? Is it Smart? Does it need classical philosophy? Can it be naked? Do I need 200 hours? 300? 500? to be a teacher? How about Goats?
(Sorry to be sassy, but that is my way of wearing a seat belt in heavy traffic: giggling along the way.)
The practice of Yoga is a practice of change. Whether Asana or Pranayama, ethical living or the deepest layers of Meditation Yoga demands a level of attention that is a witness to incessant change. If we stay with our practice, there is a truth that cannot be missed, that cannot be ignored: everything is changing.
We aim, each day, to do the same thing we did yesterday: to sit on our cushion in the morning for 20 minutes, to pause and take deep breaths throughout the day, to do our Sun Salutations and more. This repetition is intentional: it through doing the same thing each day that we see that it is never the same. We see that we are not the same. We bear witness to our own constant changes.
Perhaps you are in your 30s or 40s and have practiced Yoga Asana for 10 years—I’m guessing you are feeling stronger and more adept as you learn more advanced-level poses. Perhaps you are in your 50s and keep hearing you need to lift weights and are thinking of dropping yoga for the gym. Perhaps you are in your 60s or 70s (or your students are) and are learning to modify or drop poses you have done for decades, like me.
What is the through line? Why do we practice Yoga? Yes, it changes; yes, it depends.
My life has always—since I was 16 – had a Yoga practice. And boy, has it changed. From the simple, meditative practices of Integral yoga that gave me solace and community when I was young, to the Iyengar practices that kept my body aligned through the challenges of being a dancer; to the physicality of Astanga yoga I craved after I stopped dancing. The last 20-odd years has been a slow waltz with all of these paths, revealing truths about the practice, why we practice, and me.
In most of these practices there is an unspoken purpose. There is a guiding principle, that a good teacher carries through each practice like a flashlight in the dark. This guiding light is a wake-up call inviting us to continue the daily practice—whatever its elements are—awakening to hidden habits and beliefs, releasing stuck patterns of thought and being, and moving us towards the essential Inquiry: Who am I?
When we are in early stages of our Yoga path, we are simply honing our ability to pay attention. With time, we can steady the attention and shine it through to ever subtler portals. Over the years we accept that all things are always changing, like this aging body we are inhabiting. The physical practice becomes a backdrop to our deepening focus. The subtler practices of pranayama and meditation become central and beloved.
This doesn’t mean that we must drop Asana. It is a trusted and reliable step for many of us into the inner limbs of Yoga. And, it doesn’t mean that we should not add physical activities like hiking or going to the gym – these are good for us! But, taking on goals for a healthy and longer- lived body are goals that are for and about the outer and physical world. They move us away from the true path of Yoga.
We love our goals! Nonetheless, one of the big lessons of Yoga is letting go of the goal. We all need and use goals to get going and to keep going. Yet, each and every time the practice has a clear goal or objective – say, a new pose, longer breath holds, meditate 2x a day – we shift into a gear that literally moves us away from Yoga.
But Annie! You are always giving us 40-day practices to follow—isn’t that a goal? Yes. And please don’t stop. And if for you going to the gym helps you recognize that you—and all of us – are 100% complete as we are, then please continue.
If for you, it is painting or gardening or playing your violin that drops you into a state of, “I am whole, I am complete” then carry on! If walking quietly in the woods, listening intently to the sounds of leaves brushing against each other and to the rhythmic plod of your steps reveals again that you are ‘that’ – that nameless, timeless, changeless being, then keep on trekking.
Yoga is that. A path of constant change and inner inquiry. A portal to peace. And, on good days, Yoga is the revelation that we are – already! – what we are seeking.