Letting go

This year (so far) is shaping up the be the year of letting go. The practice of non-attachment is basically the bread-and-butter of any thoughtful yogini, so why am I just (re)learning this lesson? Well, situations change and we can change, too, or we can get stuck. Apparently, I've been stuck!

My spiritual practice (of which yoga is a vital part) has for many years revolved around recognizing that attachment and, more importantly, attachment to outcomes cause us misery.

So, it seems I struggle most with placing expectations on my students...in other words, being attached to, what I think, is the appropriate outcome of my work as a teacher. There, I admit it. I show up, I teach my class, and I try to give my all each time. And I expect the same of my students. Come, participate, give it your all, and, by golly, show some improvement!

Doesn't really that seem all that harmful UNTIL a student falls short of those unattainably high expectations. For me, it was a student that was training to be a teacher. I had taken her under my wing (whether she knew it or not) and was placing unreasonably high expectations on her development as a teacher, and on her expression of yoga. In other words, I was so caught up in what I thought were the appropriate expressions of her practice that I neglected to consider that 1) I had no right to do this and 2) everyone has a right to journey according to their needs.

So, you guessed it, this student let me down. Big time. Not only was I disappointed, I felt personally betrayed! "How could she behave so un-yogically!" I thought to myself. The situation was complicated and I'll spare you the gory details, but essentially it came down to some behaviors that IN MY MIND constituted a blatant disregard for the yogic path of honesty, commitment, and discipline. Regardless of her intentions or of my expectations, the outcome (on my end) was the same: attachment equals mucho misery.

My choice in refusing to let go of my expectations for this student yielded a big aching heart. And I'd like to think that I've (finally) re-learned this lesson: albeit, the hard way. The daily challenge remains though: remembering that what I do on the mat, in the studio, at my classes, is my work. It's what I put into the world with my whole heart; BUT once it's out there, it no longer belongs to me. I have to let go of that effort, live my dharma, and allow others to live theirs. Whether I agree with it or not.

Share your gifts

Ever feel that you've exhausted the limits of creativity and connection and that nothing you could do, create, or offer the world is original (or, even necessary)? Ok, maybe that's just me. In this hyper-connected world, we're overcome with good ideas, innovation to the n'th degree, and original thought seems an impossibility.

But you are the only you. And I am the only me. And the more we focus on what we can offer as a unique individual to this messy, chaotic, collective, the greater our potential for impact, inspiration, and innovation.

Often, I fall into the comparison trap (maybe you do, too) and tell myself that "if only I were _____ like ____" and "too bad I'm not ____ like _____" and "my life would be more meaningful if I had ________ like ________."

What a challenge it is to accept who you are right here, right now; rife with imperfections as we are, we each have the capacity to experience a meaningful life in which our service to others (by sharing our gifts) outshines any deficiencies we may (or think we may) have.

As a yoga teacher with a busy class schedule, I frequently feel that, at best, I'm just parroting myself from class to class and, at worst, that I don't have anything to offer the broader yoga community. Yet, my body continues to offer insights - original or not - when I step onto the mat; it's my interpretation of those insights that is my gift to the yoga community. 

What are your gifts and how do you share them?