A few months ago, one of my friends posted some photos from
Anusara's Inner Harmony days. It
was before I was practicing at all, before most of the teachers there were
popular, and before Sianna's pants had ruffles on them. Those images helped me
get through the first wave of resignations from Anusara, including my own in
March. It just helped to see these
folks practicing together. I'm
sure people weren't all best friends then, and I'm certainly not interested in
going back to some perfect time that never existed, but the collective memory
should include more than just 'why I'm leaving' stories. Here's one of mine.
Shortly after my copy of The Poster was hung in my studio
(thanks, Lois), another studio in Louisville announced that the very
practitioner in those photos would be teaching a workshop at their studio. I promptly got my ass in gear and
contacted both the studio and Darren Rhodes to offer to assist his workshop.
Next, I got my ass in gear to make sure I could demo whatever might be asked of
me. I really wanted to show
EVERYONE that a viable option for Anusara Yoga existed in Louisville. And that
option was me. This is all just a
little embarrassing to write, but there's a point.
So, the very week of the workshop, I'm attempting niralamba sirsasana
(look Ma, no hands! headstand). And, of course, I fall. I'm sure it was right before I taught a
class, too, but in those days my classes consisted of my husband, a teacher who
liked me, and Mary. Admittedly, I
was kind of hurt. I did therapeutics
on myself, and went to get body work, and hoped for the best.
The weekend arrived.
Darren, endearingly, showed up to the studio with no yoga clothes, and
taught in his Prana corduroy pants the first day. As expected, I got to demo. Students from my studio came to the workshop and knew the
invocation. I assisted my little heart out in those classes. He wrote a thank-you to me in my
notebook while the students were in savasana. I got to practice with Darren
during the lunch break and was invited to the post-workshop dinner. Admittedly, I felt like a big
shit. He even said to me,
"You're not Certified? You
seem so Certified."
I could not have been more proud. And I was sure that my little studio would soon be
overwhelmed with students who wanted me to teach them my mad skills.
As the end of the weekend approached, and I felt more
comfortable around this very accomplished teacher, I asked him about his
experience in making The Poster, about specific, elusive poses, etc. I'm sure they're questions that he's
been asked a bazillion times by now.
But here's what I took away from his answers, and it's what I've kept in
mind every time my best friend challenged me on why I would ever care to
attempt the Level 3 Syllabus (Radical Expansion). It's not about your performance of the poses. It's about what it does to you as a
practitioner to do that kind of a practice.
Extrapolate that to any puja. It's not what you do to the
outside thing that matters. It's
how you shift internally when you do that chant, mudra, hold that baby,
etc.
For me, it was about devoting myself to something difficult
(which I was, in the form of trying to run a studio). It was about not just doing the big, easy thing. It was
about setting a goal and sticking to it.
About not giving up, giving in, or accepting what everyone else thinks
is comfortable just because it is.
Maybe one of these days I'll write a blog post about comfort and ease,
but don't hold your breath.
By the way, not one person who was in that workshop came to my
class in the weeks and months afterward.
Maybe someone came years later, but it was not directly related to that
experience. These were years of
deep humbling for me, and really the beginning of my yoga practice. Darren's kindness and encouragement
helps me to remember what's valuable about practicing doing what you cannot yet
do.
Join Allison on Saturday, June 2, at Abhaya for three hours of
advanced asana, 2-5 PM.
