Protection

“I stand in front of you. I feel the force of the blow.” – Massive Attack, Protection

I’ve been in love twice in my life and both times we were bezzies before we were lovers. (“Lovers”! Ick!)

The first time we broke up because our backgrounds and our futures were so entirely different, and we were young and still growing; and didn’t realise what we had; and disrespected our relationship with drugs and looking elsewhere.

But there was a time we would have done anything for each other and we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together and I believed that he was the most flawed yet all-round beautiful thing I had ever held.

The second time we broke up because he developed a profound mental illness and neither of us knew how to live without control over that; or how to recapture the trust in our future together; and he needed to get out and I needed to protect myself.

But I believe he was the most flawed yet all-round beautiful thing I have ever held and I would still do almost anything for him.

Sometimes I think that my story since then can be summed up as the need to protect oneself being stronger than the need to live.

Everyone has a heartbreak sob story. Boo hoo. Mine happened too late in my life and too early in the history of popular culture to become a reason to audition for X Factor. Thankfully. I guess.

But still, it anchored itself so deeply in my core and fibre that it became a form of paralysis.

Chief among my motivations, had I only known it, was that I should make no sudden movements for fear of getting cut again on a jagged edge. Life is a nightmare when you can’t locate the wound let alone stem the bleeding.

So far, so self-indulgent.

Why is this relevant to a blog about my personal experience of bikram yoga? Perhaps it’s not relevant at all. Perhaps nothing is irrelevant. Perhaps I am putting this down here because I have to let it go. (“Let go”! Ick!) Perhaps this blog is a safe place in the same way the hot room is supposed to be a safe place. (And this is a totally separate issue but before the recent rape allegations I would not have used “probably” in that sentence.) Perhaps the changes I see in the hot room mirror scare me ‘cos I think I’m returning to the body that left me unguarded and allowed me to get hurt so badly.

Maybe when I feel sick, sad, angry, confused and overwhelmed in camel or floor bow or the one before spine twist (“The one before spine twist”! Ick!) What I’m actually feeling is vulnerable and – even though my body is fighting, fighting, fighting me to let go of that protection – vulnerability is the most confusing and alarming state of all.

Follow up: clarifying a few points in my letter to the Janes

I received an email from a friend, studio owner and teacher letting me know she had some issues with my blog post entitled “A letter to Jane Doe 1 and Jane Doe 2”. I have already written her an email in reply and let her know that I would be using her points in a follow up post. If she had issues with what I wrote it is more than likely that others did, so I’d like to clarify. I also encouraged her to use the comments section on this blog if she’d like a more open discussion.

Taking my friend’s points in turn:

• The money thing – it is great to know that my home studio has no financial obligations whatsoever to Bikram HQ. This is a major issue for me and very reassuring to have that cleared up, which makes it easier for me to go on with my practice. It’s a relief. I would really encourage you to ask your studio owner for the same assurance; I expect you will be told that there is a one-off licencing fee then no more financial relationship. I would suggest media outlets reporting on this story with phrases such as “Choudury … runs an international empire of about 650 yoga studios across three continents” do suggest he has a financial stake in studios bearing his name (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/may/14/bikram-yoga-sexual-assault-lawsuit) and it would be useful for them to be set straight.

• Turning a blind eye – I didn’t mean the whole bikram universe has turned a blind eye, I meant his inner core at Bikram HQ or TT, who reportedly dismissed the Jane Does’ request for help. Presumably these are the 24 co-defendants named in the lawsuit/s along with Bikram; it seems to me “turning a blind eye” is quite a generous summary of their charges. I hope that is clear now and I hope I didn’t hurt anyone else’s feelings if that was ambiguous.

• No, I have not turned my back on bikram yoga practice. I say at various points “I believe I will return to my practice”; “I choose to continue with this practice despite my discomforts”; and “by continuing in this path with my yoga”. Ditto, I hope that is now unambiguous.

• Am I able to separate the man from the practice? Yes, it is more than possible, but please be aware that our appreciation of this practice is built around his name and defined by his name and by extension so are we. Can you realistically expect people to be able to separate his name from the practice without suggesting an alternative name – what do we call it if we’re not to call it bikram, when the very name leaves an unpleasant taste? What are we to call ourselves after years and years of being encouraged to identify ourselves as bikram yogis? Can studio owners take his name off their businesses, can they take his picture off studio walls, are they prepared to ask teachers and studio twitter feeds to stop quoting him directly? I’m sure these things are being into consideration, if not straight away then in anticipation of a possible guilty verdict, but these are difficult questions and let’s not be naïve – these things don’t happen overnight. Not for teachers, not for students like me, and not for the broader bikram universe. Okay, maybe it’s only semantics, but it is very emotive for me and I want to know these things are in hand because I feel we have been let down.

• It takes quite a lot to stomach being asked to separate the man from the practice when the vast majority of the bikram universe is acting like nothing has happened.

• My home studio has sent an email to members about the lawsuits. It was six days after the lawsuits were first reported which is a little slow for my tastes but I have to say that I am on the mailing lists of several bikram yoga studios in the UK and US and mine is the only one to acknowledge publicly that this is happening, so I do respect that. Maybe you’d like to tell me how your studio is handling this in the comments section below? (If you know a studio whose PR agency is telling them to remain quiet, tell them “Silence is compliance, bitches” and get them to sack the PR and make a statement.)

More generally, I think, the lack of response from Bikram HQ is really troubling – and I daresay there are legal subtleties there that I’m not conversant with. But because we invest so much in this very demanding practice which – let’s face facts – does ritualise him that when something like this happens with even a chance that he is guilty we feel leaderless, and the silence compounds that into a feeling of abandonment. I can’t tell you the crisis of faith I have been facing – which in itself has taken me by surprise. If anything has taught me how important this yoga has become to me it is this shameful episode, I can assure you.

I am sincerely pleased that my friend got in touch as these are times of heightened emotions when it’s really easy to misunderstand each other and the fewer ambiguities remain the better.

Spread love. Speak up.

Thank you for reading

Namaste

Caz

A Letter to Jane Doe 1 and Jane Doe 2

Dear Jane and Jane

I’m so very sorry for all that you are going through right now and over the past while and all the circumstances that have brought you to file a civil suit against you-know-who. I can’t imagine what you are going through but I’m pretty sure it’s hideous. Literally unimaginable.

Sitting in the midst of my relatively comfortable urban professional life in London I can’t even picture how things would change if I was put in your position. I’d probably lose it completely.

So, I wanted to say hi and I’m sorry and thank you and congratulations and be strong and I hope you find light somehow and please know that if I knew you personally I would do whatever was in my power to help. As it is, this may be all I can do.

Since I heard – via a twitter friend – two evenings ago about the lawsuits I have been able to think about little else. I was on day 8 of a 30 day bikram yoga challenge and I found I couldn’t go to class yesterday or today. It’s the first time I have skipped class not because of laziness, injury, making excuses, getting a better offer, being generally lame or having eaten far too much penne vodka at lunch. I skipped class because of disgust and revulsion; betrayal and its counterpart: allegiance. Allegiance with you.

Changing gear a little, I think that the purpose of our “innocent until proven guilty” policy is to civilise our basic “where there is smoke there is fire” instinct. The smoke in this case, sadly, is simply that having read anything I could get my hands on about Bikram Choudhury over the last few years, and in the absence of hundreds of his friends and colleagues rushing forward shouting “Bikram would NEVER abuse his position; Bikram would NEVER assault anyone let alone a woman let alone a TT student!” – I find it all too easy to believe he is capable of rape. And I find it all too easy to believe the culture that surrounds him would rather turn a blind eye than lose him; than tarnish the practice; than demean the transformative power of this yoga; than cut off their income; than admit they had been hoodwinked; than be shown the devastating effect of false idols. Than enquire within. Ironically, this yoga teaches us that this is the hardest thing we are asked to do in the hot room. It is the only thing we are asked to do, ultimately.

I don’t know any of these people but I will say one thing: silence is compliance; and silence, every bit as much as yoga, is a choice.

So, anyway, I guess I’m really writing to tell you that having thought about little else for 48 hours I am not planning to turn my back on bikram yoga, but I did feel I wanted to let you know why. This may well be empty rhetoric, it may well be post rationalisation but as much as I credit Bikram Choudhury with giving me this yoga, I will be damned before I let him take it away. It is tragic that he took it away from you.

Here’s what I’m still profoundly uncomfortable with:

• This practice and his name are inextricably linked
• In order to continue to practice this yoga I am obliged to give money – indirectly – to a probable rapist
• Each hot room available to me has images of Bikram Choudhury in it
• I don’t think I can become a bikram yoga teacher if he is found guilty

However, I believe I will return to my practice because he doesn’t get to take this away from me. The anger and the disillusionment and betrayal and injustice and bitterness do not get to win. Fuck them all. This is no longer bikram yoga, this is fucking badass Caz yoga from now on and I own it. If I could I would give it back to you complete, washed, reborn. Change, savasana.

I hope you can see that as your sister if I choose to continue with this yoga despite my discomforts that I am honouring the part of you that is also the part of me. I recognise the part of that of you was injured which is also my injury. I offer you my strength, my practice, my transformation.

By continuing in my path in this yoga I hope I can demonstrate to you that you weren’t wrong. You were not wrong to fall in love with this practice; the meaning it offered to your life was not a mirage; the healing and change you witnessed was not sleight-of-hand; your faith in yourself in training to become a teacher was not misplaced.

Say someone forgets that violence and coercion have no place in yoga, which is ultimately and only about choice, that doesn’t change all the other things that yoga does mean. It doesn’t mean that you are weak.

Anyway, lastly I want to say how much I hope none of this is upsetting for you, I absolutely do not mean it that way. And I want you to know that even all the way over here in London I am thinking about you – and I can’t be the only one. I mean I know I’m unique but I can’t be that special; hundreds of others must be sending you positive vibes also.

So, during these low, dark, challenging days: good luck to you. What is past is prologue.

All my love

Namaste

Caz

There’s nothing wrong with you.

A thought struck me on the way home tonight; that since I moved to London in late 1999 the most constant and consistent relationship I’ve had has been with my acupuncturist. He’s also an osteopath and I’ve recently started calling him my osteo or (Sexy Osteo on twitter) ‘cos it’s easier to say and doesn’t invite lots of questions about needles, but when I first went to him 13 years ago – when he was a young man and I was little more than a child – it was because he was an acupuncturist and I wasn’t even aware that he practiced osteopathy also. My point is, he knows me as well as anybody and a lot better than some. He gets paid to know me but I choose to believe that this doesn’t cheapen the bond we share. Also, he’s quite sexy so there’s that.

Anyway, I saw him last week and he suggested that my lower back pain has been partially down to over compensation for immobility in my thoracic spine. Which is totally news to me, which was a little annoying but I went with it. And I started thinking about it a lot and it seemed to me that the couple postures I have real trouble with could be to do with the thoracic spine rather than the lower spine, especially as I have hardly any pain any more. So I went through my big white Bikram book and bookmarked those postures (and a few others) to show him and when I saw him today I said
“I have brought a visual aid”
‘I’m trying to think what that means”
“A book”
“Yes, a book, but you’ve never needed a book before. Why can’t you just show me?”
“I guess I wanted to be absolutely clear so that you can help me understand how to adjust my focus in class”
“OK. Show me the book”

He didn’t roll his eyes ‘cos profoundly gifted healers don’t do that. But I felt it.

Turns out not being able to get your finger tips below your nose in eagle is not to do with your thoracic spice so much as your shoulders. “Also your voluptuosity could be a hindrance.” I must’ve looked at him a certain way because he said “your breasts”. Thanks, I got it.

We looked through the photos:
“So what do you mean you can’t do the posture?”
“I can’t get my head to my knee”
“So what do you do?”
“Well, everything else but I can’t get my head on my knee so the posture hasn’t started yet”
“But you have this leg straight, and this leg straight, and your hands here on the floor”
“Just in front of my foot”
“But your head not on your knee”
“So I bend the front leg up to meet my forehead but it never meets”
“And does everyone else have their head on their knee?”
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t look around, I’m too busy trying to get my head on my knee”
[Pause]
“Do you know how hard this is to do”
“I’m telling you I can’t do it, so, yes”
“No, I mean, really, do you realise how hard this is? I think you think there is something wrong with you because you can’t get your head on your knee”
“A little, perhaps”
“You mustn’t think that, this is really hard to do. And this one – this is even harder, don’t worry if you can’t do this one. This is the last posture?”
“Yes”
“Because it’s really hard, you have to be very free here and here and here. Don’t worry. There is nothing wrong with you”
“Ok”
“Say it”
“Ok”
“No. Say it. There is nothing wrong with you”
“There is nothing wrong with me”
“Ok then. Take your top off”

Day 31 of 30 Day Challenge

On my way to class this evening I overheard (eavesdropped) these two girls on the tube. One was talking about her blog and said “I am always sincere; I always had the intention that the blog should be sincere” and went on to say that she has attempted to write humour but she had to assume a particular attitude and keep in the front of her thinking that she was being humourous. (I think the fact she said humourous and not funny actually tells us how funny her humourous blogs turned out.) And then she said that it felt really weird to write from a humourous place because she was used to writing from a sincere place. Now, remembering that I have no idea what she writes about or who she is or where she was going and not even pretending that if I bumped into her again I would know her from a can of paint, just this snippet of conversation absolutely fascinated me. Do we have to give up one to have the other? If we take her “sincere” to mean true, then to me very few things are funny unless they have at least a little truth in them. Sincerity without a little humour is just a bad Oscar speech. Without a little humour the weight of the truth would kill me dead. Most people, I think. Fascinating, and I was still thinking about it when I got to the studio.

I got a high five from my excellent friend on reception for completing my 30 days, and I also got my mystery shopper cover blown – he has used dark database arts to figure out it’s me that writes this blog – bumped into my new friend who struck up a conversation with me two nights ago (she’s now on her day 11, way to go Regina!) and also caught up with Cousin Alice as planned.

It was odd to be in class through choice and not because I was in a challenge, and it made for a very strong standing series but once more the heat was fairly overwhelming. I am going to have to adjust to this being the norm rather than a surprise every time. And I’m going to have to adjust sooner rather than later as I have set myself three intentions for the remainder of 2012:

1. keep earning, and earn a little more if humanly possible
2. spend Christmas and New Year with my boys and my family, and
3. keep the high focus on daily practice

So, I’ve asked my parents if they can help me with a little money towards buying a 12 month bundle up front which is by far the cheapest way to practice daily and I’m keeping going. When I asked for the loan my Mum said “have you lost any weight in the last 30 days?” [thanks, Mum. None taken.] And I told her that I couldn’t vouch for weight but I’ve lost inches. And she said you can’t lose inches without losing weight. [And again, thanks for listening.] Hopefully that’s good enough for her! See, if it weren’t just a little funny, it would be a little heartbreaking.

Don’t feel sorry for me, though. Cousin Alice brought me an after class treat of Naked juice Green Machine – my FAVOURITE; I would take it intravenously if that didn’t mean bypassing my tastebuds – so that made it all ok again.

How did Caesar build Rome? Brick by brick.

Well, there we go. In an almost bewilderingly typical twist of fate, I left critical responsibilities to the last minute and had to do 4 classes in the final 48 hours to complete 30 classes in 30 days. What idiot does that?  Oh, hi; have we met?

But, like everything else today, that doesn’t matter because I completed my 30 day challenge. The best bit was that my two cousins surprised me with a card and a beautiful bouquet after class. It’s so moving to share an achievement like this with family who have known you your whole life and only want good things for you. I heartily recommend it. Plus fresh flowers: never a bad idea.

It was hard to concentrate at work today, I was so nervous. That part I didn’t expect, I thought I was being quite mellow about the whole thing. But it turns out – no! I was a bag of nerves, chattering away about Robbie Williams at the Jubilee concert at the weekend and goodness knows what else. Oh, I know what else. Brad Pitt turned up at my colleague’s husband’s motorcycle repair garage in Ruislip. So, there’s that.

Anyway, I haven’t got much else to say except I am exceptionally grateful to and for all the amazing teachers and other staff at Hot Bikram Yoga London Bridge and Fulham. The gifted and compassionate teachers who have folded their personalities into their classes without losing one iota of the dignity, integrity and passion of bikram yoga.

The dust is still settling. I feel elated, exhausted, incredulous, impressed, pleased, changed, grateful, light, wide-eyed, bullet proof. I feel like I have a secret; like I’ve earned my stripes. My only worry is now that I have completed the challenge I won’t have the drive to keep it up.

But hopefully I can keep reminding myself that for the last 30 days I have treated myself to concentrated care and attention – TLC – opening myself up to light, peace, stretching, healing and unity. And now maybe I am readier to take those things out into the world. Starting here and now. I love you. Spread love.

Failure has no meaning in #bikram #yoga

When I started this blog I had two intentions: to tell the truth, and to be me. My hope was that in telling the truth I would sound like me; if friends read this they would hear me talking. In the playing out of writing about my yoga experiences I have reminded myself of something someone pointed out to me about 20 years ago, that I have a streak of self parody a mile wide. Often this is exactly how I tell the truth. Whether or not that is healthy is another discussion. I think probably in moderation it’s perfectly healthy but can become downright debilitating if it becomes a default position. Anyway, this is of no obvious significance right now. I just wanted it stated for the record.

Today was Day 20 of my 30 day challenge. I haven’t decided how I am going to finance my practice from here on, my preference would be to buy the next twelve months up front. It’s a lot of money to spend in one go and it’s a big commitment but – following my gut – it’s what I really want.

Anyway, I suspected I was going to have a tough class because I had what we in this country call “a few drinks” yesterday, but I had absolutely no idea. It was horrendous, easily one of the worst classes I have ever done. I more or less gave up after eagle, I was totally overwhelmed. I couldn’t do any of it. And the humidity and sweat – my word. Recently when I am in half moon back bend and I catch a glimpse of my forearms above me all I can think of is Apocalypse Now. Because of the sweat. And the funny part is I was scheduled to do a double. Yay!

So, long story short, I had two pretty hideous classes. But I stayed in the room and focused on my breathing and let the tears come and go and listened to the dialogue. And I refused to think about what my fellow students might be thinking about me and I refused to be too hard on myself. And tried to convince myself that these classes count and as long as I attend class I can say I did class today. I haven’t failed – even if all I can do is the belly down series.

It would be nice to think that Day 30 will be a good bikram day. Hopefully at least I’ll be able to stay in the room whatever happens, and convince myself even a “bad” class counts.

 

What is your yoga offering you today?

I used to love to practice with this particular teacher who had a habit of saying “be available to what your yoga is offering you today”, and another one of his favourites was “see where your head goes”. When he said it during savassana I had to ask myself  “Is it ok that my head goes straight to David Boreanaz?”

Anyway, today was day 25 and in savassana I was surprised to realise that I had no pain. Maybe a little discomfort and maybe my legs aren’t totally straight but no pain. And I recall that last week I did my first sit-up since my hiatus and the remarkable thing about that was that I honestly didn’t realise I was doing sit-ups again until I’d done a couple. So, that is what my yoga offered me that day.

In related news, I had a meeting regarding some new work yesterday and today I got a call saying I got the contract. Which is brilliant news all over and could mean a new direction for my career as a whole (if I’m very clever and work it right), but apart from all that there is part of me that is convinced that the yoga helped me get this contract. Helped me to prepare; to look at all I know about my field and stock-take what I had of relevance to offer; helped me in the interview itself to be poised and articulate, to speak with confidence and totally without embarrassment about my skills, experience, strengths, aspirations; helped me listen and respond intelligently; helped me communicate that I’m someone interested in hard work with a purpose and meaning and someone who is “in control”.

I have no evidence but I am sure of it; convinced. Also, it’s arguably significant that I got the message to call the agency a few minutes before class. The message was “please ring ASAP because we need to talk before the long weekend”. And I could have rung right there which would have made me late for class but I didn’t. I put that on pause and took class as normal, didn’t rush anything, kept my nerves and curiosity in check. And so after class I rang and it was good news. So, that is what my yoga offered me today. I grabbed it with both hands.

Let’s Get McKinley Bikram Teacher Trained. Please.

If you have that one remarkable friend you feel the need to ring or tweet immediately after class, whether outstanding or a total wash-out, who you know will always be pleased to hear from you and be true and supportive in response? Then chances are you already know McKinley, who tweets as @ilovesweat. He’s a hugely important part of the bikram twitter community that I have grown to love over the last year or so, in fact I might even call him President of Twitzerland. Anyway, McKinley recently launched an online campaign to fund his Bikram Teacher Training. He and I have talked about training in the past but I’m no longer sure that is my path, so – impressed and inspired by his conviction that it is his, I’m trying to get the campaign in front of as many people as possible.

Please, please, please, watch his video, wonder open mouthed at his toe stand and then reblog this or tweet this or post this to your facebook or whatever – is skywriting still a thing? – so we can get McKinley to teacher training so that he can be the exceptional teacher the world needs.

Crucially, this is an appeal for cash so please also make a donation. Thank you so much. And with that, some words from the man himself.

…………………………………………………………

Caz: You and I became friends on twitter and for me personally the online community has really supported my practice. But in terms of cash in hard times like these – what are your expectations for your indiegogo campaign target?

M: I’m not sure what to expect. Bikram has taught me to have no expectations, so I’m working from there, right? I often remind myself of a line MCA has in “Alive,” “I’ll give it my best and come what may….” I’d rather *try* then not do anything, even if it means I might fail. When I first started bikram, I would never try toe stand. then, one day, I realised, that I was cheating myself. If you don’t try, you never give yourself a chance to succeed. I’m gonna give it my all and hope for the best.

Caz: because we’re friends I know you’ve had a tough recession-related time recently; without wanting to pry, I’d like to ask whether your ambition to teach has waxed and waned at all during this time?

M: If anything, my desire to teach has only increased because of the recession. There aren’t many jobs where you can go almost anywhere in the world and have the opportunity to work right away. Becoming a bikram yoga teacher gives you access to studios around the world. @MeiNg has taught bikram yoga worldwide and it’s inspiring to know that that opportunity is there.

Caz: can you talk a little about how bikram yoga has enriched or otherwise changed you, or your life, since you began practicing? What are the top three things that come to mind?

M: Bikram yoga is physical therapy for the body, mind and soul. Before bikram, my body was a wreck. I was malnourished, sickly-skinny and had bad posture. Bikram has changed my body with better posture and alignment and even given me a little bit of tone. I’ve also changed the way I think, making better decisions for myself, craving healthy foods instead of bad, learning balance in and out of the hot room. Before bikram, I was a negative person with a low self-image of myself. Bikram taught me to open my heart and find love for me and my body, and, hopefully someday, some body else.

Caz: knowing what you do about bikram teacher training, do you anticipate any challenges being a student and a film-maker at the same time?

M: The real challenge will be to keep a balance between the two that doesn’t compromise the other. For me, as some one who loves to document everything photo-wise, I can already see myself limiting how much I document, just because I do want to enjoy the journey and get the most out of my experiences down there.

Caz: How long was it after you started practicing bikram that you started feeling you would like to be a teacher?

M: Probably after about 6 months, I was already in the midst of what would become my 2 year challenge and nothing else even seemed right in my mind, it was like, I just have to be a teacher and help people, that’s all there is to it. it still feels that way actually.

Caz: What do you feel within yourself are the strengths that will make you a good teacher?

M: Probably my patience, understanding and compassion. Which, I think, are the same things that make me a good student.

Caz: I imagine, like me, there have been teachers through the years that you have particularly responded to. Can you share with us a few things you have found particularly inspiring in your relationship with your own teachers?

M: My favourite teacher was always the hardest on me, pushing me, picking on me, but she was really just bringing out the best in me. My least favourite teacher became one of my favourites when I finally let my ego go—the pose is as long as your teacher says it is! Learning to love every teacher’s class, because each one is amazing in their own way.

Caz: So, you get qualified; describe your life five years from that point in time?

M: Teaching around the country, taking great photographs along the way and selling t-shirts and tank tops. I really believe my standing bow design could become to yoga what “tap out” is to MMA, so I harbour hope that it will eventually catch on and bring me good things.

Caz: If you had three minutes of free advertising airtime during the most watched show on TV next week, what would be the lead of your advertising pitch?

M: “My name is McKinley. Don’t hold it against me but I like cats.” and then have 2:50 of cat-stacking, cat-breading and cats with tennis ball helmets. People would like that, right?

…………………………………………………………

If anything, let’s make sure McKinley becomes a bikram yoga teacher and not an advertising executive. It’s up to you.

Questions About Resisting Change

Day 16 threw up something very surprising and not a little crappy.

I have a crummy old armchair which sits kind of low and I got up from it to go to class and my left knee just went. It just went. It was really painful, really burning. So that was worrying. But I was already dressed and packed for class so I went to go out but I could barely get down the stairs and then once I was out on the pavement the limp was so bad I realised I wasn’t going to make it to class on time.

Not that I am scared to practice with it or around it, but I was headed for the 8pm class and I wouldn’t get there on time. If I had booked for the 6pm I could have just waited for the next one but I had no contingency.

But besides all the missing class bull – on day 16 – where did this pain come from? I do have a friend whose opinion I respect greatly who would say there are no accidents. So what role does this pain play? It stops me from going to class, it makes me feel bad about missing a day’s practice, I miss a day’s practice, it makes me self conscious, it makes me pause in achieving my objective rather than being a class and a day closer to my objective.

So, the question becomes, if this is not spontaneous, not an accident. Is it self-sabotage? This good friend of mine would likely suggest that this pain was invented by a part of my brain/mind/whatever that wants me to fail, the part of me that is resisting the change that I seem to be so taken up with right now? That I constantly self-righteously tweet about? Damn, I read my tweets sometimes and they make me want to puke.

What if I worry about not knowing who I would be, this changed version of myself? What if I don’t want to confront the change because it would force me to think about the things in my life/body/appearance/personality/circumstance that I am unhappy about and I’m not sure what would replace them? What if I found out change was actually easy and therefore had to take the rap for tolerating the unhappinesses for so long without taking accountability for them? Or worse, what if I put all this huge physical and emotional effort into this change and made it happen and my life turned out to be just as imperfect? If I’m a failure right now, after all, I know what to blame. If change and I’m still a failure then I am categorically the failure. Me. So right here in the comfort zone is safer, thanks. I’m good with the blaming and the tolerating – maybe Day 15 is as far as I get. What if changing is just too effing hard?

The truth is I don’t know. I just don’t know. I don’t know and not knowing means that this is a leap of faith to some degree. Maybe all of this is just self-indulgence and I just need to do the work, already. Jeez, I’m such a whiner! Whatever, it doesn’t have to be part of a giant life plan, the yoga is good for me, so shut up and go to class, right? All I know is that this happened at exactly the half way point and that is too big a coincidence for me.