namaste

This month marks a year that I've done yoga as my main source of exercise. It started as an experiment and quickly became a passion. Doing yoga full time (about 5 times/week) has not only improved my relationship with my body, but it's also carried over into other aspects of my life. If I've had a good yoga session, my energy is up and my attitude is improved. Even on those days that I'm frustrated with a pose and my inability to get into it, I try to accept my limitations, literally and metaphorically. The studio I attend has many great instructors with all kinds of varying backgrounds.

I love having a little taste of all the different types of hatha yoga, but occasionally, when I attend a class like the Ashtanga workshop I just finished, I feel orphaned. I chatted with one of the beautiful women near us in the class (who happened to be a teacher herself), and when she discovered my lack of an Ashtanga teacher, she looked at me with compassion and pity. It's the curse of being a Jack of All Trades. I am master of none.

I envy those who've had one mentor all their lives. I've had so many from so many different backgrounds and philosophies that I often feel wishy washy. On the other hand, I love nothing more than getting to the heart of a person's passion, and so I must remain open. What I get out of practicing so many kinds of hatha yoga is a deep appreciation of all I can do when I am open and accepting.

Yesterday was humbling because I was one of the few in a class of 70 who couldn't do full lotus, let alone all the acrobats involved with Ashtanga. But what I came away with from David Swenson's teaching was that I must nurture myself wherever I'm at today. Pushing and driving myself will only bring injury, defeating the purpose of exercise.

As for my homogenized practice, I am grateful for my many different teachers, experiences and options for what my body needs in the moment. Sometimes it's vigorous, sometimes it's passive. Wherever I'm at is where I need to be.