Yoga is a metaphor for all aspects of living.
It means union with self. Or union with the Divine.
So through the practice of yoga you are actually coming to know yourself. That’s what all living practices of any art form are about. It’s the art of living explored through a practice that gets you to live your unfolding life more as art. Or one could say, any pursuit of anything that explores deeper than merely at the physical level will make you arrive at that insight. That your life is art.
This is yoga. And this is any creative process.
Sometimes we go to class and we’re like, “I got this downward facing dog shit down!”
And then we’re like, “Ummmm . . . no I don’t.”
Sometimes we snore through Shavasana.
Sometimes we contort our bodies and get to new levels of flexibility and strength in our poses.
Sometimes we contort our bodies and feel like we’re beginners all over again.
Sometimes your own sweat makes you slide out of the pose and you look ridiculous.
Sometimes you can’t hold the pose. At all. And handstands? Forget about it.
Sometimes other people’s poses distract you! “Look at their hot shit. Why are they so amazing and I suck?”
Sometimes you don’t even want to go. “I just want to sleep in!” “What’s the use?”
Sometimes you stretch too far and pull a muscle. Sometimes you’re bored.
Sometimes you’re angry. At yourself. At yoga. At your teacher. At life.
What gets you through? All that noise and obstacles and bullshit?
The breath. That’s it.
You breathe more deeply into where you are at any given moment. And that breath allows you to go deeper and to let go. That’s an art in itself. And that’s practice.
Acting is like that. It’s a process of showing up. Of being.
Anytime you think you’ve got it, you probably don’t. If it’s a constantly moving target then what is there to get, anyway?
We’re mistakenly taught that someday we’re going to wake up and have a perfect “formula” for acting. We will have finally arrived and “gotten it.”
That doesn’t exist. It’s like life. It’s constantly changing and moving you from phase to phase and moment to moment. It changes. You change. (Or perhaps you don’t and therein is the struggle and pain!)
There is nothing to get. You already are it.
And you let the practice keep refining you to get to those moments where you’re able to finally hold the pose. If even for a few seconds.
That’s victory. That’s worth attempting. And then it goes away and you start anew. And that’s what yoga teaches you. About life. Acting. And yourself.