I’m full of “It”

I guess I’m still full of shit.

This occurred to me as I placed my hands on my mat for my first full practice today after a week traveling and primary-ing.

I thought of this cue I’ve uttered, I don’t know– a thousand fucking times? It goes something like this: press your hands on your mat, really feel the inner edge of the hands pressing down, especially between the thumb and first finger… internally rotate the forearms whilst externally rotating the upper.

Because I have flexible hyperextended arms/genetic mutant monkey arms (depends on your point of view), I can perform this direction without really doing it. A magic trick, if you will — I can press my hands flat while leaving my arm dead, letting the forearms rotate externally, i.e., turning the eyes of my elbows rotate to face forward (instead of crossing, laser style, one foot in front of me in upward dog as explained by David Robson). Look I’m no anatomy expert (or an expert of any kind). All I can say is I can look like I’m doing something I’m not.

I’d call it a cheat, but the only one cheated here is me– nothing good comes from underutilizing my sources of strength. I don’t know why i’ve never devoted a practice to really studying my hands and arms the way I did today. It’s not as if I haven’t noticed before that focusing on the integrity of the set up from my hand up my arms is a game-changer. Indeed David Robson doused us with the importance of just that during his learn to float workshop in DC.

I conjured those memories today, and jumping forward from downward dog into the “trini” position in one of my first few sun salutations:

“Wow.”

This spontaneous utterance escaped from my mouth so fast I almost wondered who’d said it. “Wow” — to feel a momentary float on hands, arms and shoulders all connected and engaged in this thing called life. Wow as well, to a slew of awkward moments of trying to balance on arms that suddenly felt like stilts in their non-hyperextended, engaged and alive position.

Look, I’m not full of shit. (Ok, maybe sometimes.) I’m not dodging proper use of my hands and arms in the spirit of laziness or cheater-ing (ok, not a whole lot, I hope). So why forget about basic important set up from my hands to my arms?

Because I don’t believe it’s going to get me anywhere. I don’t see myself as strong and capable. I don’t believe in myself. You hear that yogis? Put that on a photo and instagram the shit out of it. I DONT BELIEVE IN MYSELF. I admit it. You know why It’s so easy to evolve my backbends–because I believe I can do it. There is no backbend I believe to be beyond my grasp– not without time, effort and practice. So I have no trouble– not just because of my natural gift for backbends but because that natural gift gives me faith that work to evolve them will actually bear fruit. There is no mental resistance.

But jumping back and through? Karandavasana? Lifting up from utkatasana? No, that’s not in me. I don’t believe that will ever be me.

My chewed up mat (or relentless mirror reflecting a parade of self-limiting beliefs) revealed my insecure faithless low self-esteem self holding back from really trying simply because of a misguided belief. Now, where have I seen this before? Oh right. In much the same way I will on and off dismiss my arms, I’ll write a blog that gets spread by more than my usual ten readers only to retreat and stay silent for a month. Give me a wave of momentum and I promise you I’ll turn my back on it. What’s the point?

I’m never going to amount to anything. Everything I do is a laughable excuse for a life. I’m not enough. My daughter will never be proud of me. Get a job, asshole.

Is there a New Year’s Instagram challenge for being hashtag #uninspiring? ‘Cause I got it in the bag. Tweet my depressing ass to the social media hilltops. Splash my insecurity on a t-shirt and sell that swag.IMG_2347

But then here I am experimenting on my mat– applying all that I know, using all that I already fucking possess for once– and “Wow.”  That “wow” wasn’t just about the float. It was the “Wow” of realizing that maybe, just maybe, whatever “it” is that I think I don’t have, need to get, assume beyond my grasp–is already in me. Maybe all the asanas — from backbends to strength moves — are already here. And if they’re in me, what isn’t?

It was the “Wow” of seeing that maybe I’m not full not of shit —

but full of “It.”

 

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8 thoughts on “I’m full of “It”

  1. It’s those “ah-ha!” moments that keep me coming back, keep the practice fresh. The nice thing is, they never really stop coming, right? It never gets boring! Which reminds me of the best answer I’ve ever read to the oft-repeated anti-Ashtanga question, “But, don’t you get bored doing the same thing every day?” It was: “Do you get bored with a different sunrise every morning?” The potential within us is just like the potential for every brand new day that greets us.

    Thanks for reminding me of this!

    • Michelee- yes, I am right there with you. Those discoveries that come when you least expect them, doing on some level the things you do everyday, then boom– there’s this shift! it really is just like the potential in every new day. thanks- i love that!

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