wisdom or vanity

I never had a yoga teacher know me so much, without knowing me.

She took her time. One minute after class was scheduled to begin, two, five... Everyone, several with iphones next to their mats,
looked on, as she sat there, breathed a bit, set up her music, situated her large blonde free curls around her ear, settled comfortably onto her haunches...
when is she going to start? She wore a long silver necklace with a round pendant over her black tank top and I wondered how she would stretch without it flailing around, hitting her face or getting caught somewhere inconvenient.

And then, suddenly and without hurry, she talked. It went something like this:
"I am so honored to be with you today. But before we begin class I want you to know what this is about. It is not about impressing anyone or even yourself. It is not about meeting an expectation.

It is not even about the poses. In fact, there is no such thing as a perfect yoga pose. All of our bodies are different, so the poses are going to look different, they are going to reflect our bodies.

What this is about is you being here. Just being here, and moving where your body takes you, where you need to go. It's about finding that place where you feel something. Not the place where you sweat or cry or hurt, but the place where you get a message that you're where you need to be.
The place between 'too much" and "not enough.'

And that place will be unique for everyone. But as long as you're here, and you feel something, you're exactly where you need to be.

Just like with life. You don't need to go anywhere. You're already there. Just be there."

There were wide eyes and skeptical eyes and squinted eyes and peaceful eyes, bored eyes and excited eyes. Faces that signalled they'd heard it all before, and ones that looked stricken with new wisdom. She asked for questions, and we all understood or we all didn't dare ask or maybe we all just wanted to get on with it. There were no questions.

"Let's begin," she said.

And as our differently shaped bodies started to move she watched them admirably.

And when some were off-center or half-bent, when some took variations, she nodded in approval but did not touch. No reposturing, no lessons.

And while we moved to more and more challenging poses and our limbs shook and the sweat dribbled onto the mat she posited, "Wisdom or vanity. You choose."

And when I, perhaps overly ambitious, reached too far and fell to the ground, she whispered, "There's a good lesson."


When I ignored an instruction and sunk into child's pose, my left thigh shaking, I felt safe.

The place between too much and not enough. The ever-chased balance. To seek it just not on a yoga mat, but in life, as well. To be at peace and feel love and presence in every moment. This is my ultimate goal. It was refreshing and beautiful to hear someone put into words and to believe so deeply in what I want for myself.