Yoga and me

I went to a yoga class yesterday morning. I've done this perhaps half a dozen times in my life, maybe less. It's a sobering experience to see how inflexible I am and I felt fairly despondent through most of it, thinking “if my body is supposed to show me the things I don't want to believe about myself, how rigid I must be!”

I don't know much about the body's manifestation of denied emotion, but I couldn't avoid the thought that once upon a time, years back, I may have been able to do all those odd poses and feel balanced and comfortable. There were people my age in the room who seemed to manage; what has happened to me? I've had plenty of physical activity in my life, so it's not that.

And I couldn't get away from the nagging thought that I've opted to become rigid in many ways. I also saw a local school production of Fiddler on the Roof yesterday (it was so good I went twice!) It's a musical, beautifully telling the story of how Tevye, the Russian Jewish father who holds his faith and cultural tradition very dear to him, is repeatedly challenged. He talks to God in the most lovable way, asking to be rich, to be cared for, bringing his daily complaints, praying in a way that feels so real. And on two of three occasions he opts to go against his beloved tradition and makes decisions based on his love for his daughters. On the third occasion he says something like: “My back can only bend so far before it will break...” and the wrongness of his decision to not bend further is heartbreaking.

Well, in yoga my back doesn't bend far at all. I'm a long way from touching my toes. Is it possible that I'm holding onto a lot of beliefs that fly in the face of love? Like Tevye, I debate the pros and cons of every decision. I suppose I fear my back will break too, that if I don't do what I've been taught is right then I will suffer a lot of pain.

I'm surprised to realise how strong my own internal 'tradition' is, how much I fear that acting out of love will bring me unbearable pain. I continue to be afraid to love.

I was married 29 years ago today. I could perhaps talk with God about how what I've just written will help me see my own inflexibility, my own choices to not feel pain rather than to be open to love.