Where the rubber hits the road

I shared some heavy feelings with my husband last weekend. And as he listened, he offered some advice.

"Notice that feeling,” he said. “Be with it."

"Hey," I replied with a weak smile. "That's my line."

If you've been in the yoga room with me, you've probably heard me say some variation of this. It's one of the great lessons that yoga has taught me; that our practice is a context for noticing. Asanas offer us a medium for being shown our experience, learning to notice it, and working to find harmony and equanimity in each moment.

But there’s another lesson about noticing that I share out loud less often:

Practice is easiest when things are going well. It's a lot harder to be present and honest about this moment when the moment feels unbearable.

It feels wonderful to be with the moment when you're practicing your favorite pose, having exciting new breakthroughs, or basking in good vibes. It is so much harder to stay present when you're struggling with a shape, your mind won't turn off, you're sitting with heavy feelings, or you're just feeling off.

Those are the moments, as a friend of mine likes to say, "where the rubber hits the road." That's when our practices of noticing, being present with, and offering ourselves space to be, are the most important. It’s when we see, among other things, how much our practice has prepared us for the tough times.

The more I practice, the more I see that those moments aren't about pushing through or collapsing in defeat. They're about noticing where we're at, being really honest with ourselves about it, and adjusting our practice accordingly. 

And really, that's what yoga is all about.

Yoga doesn't ask us to perform at a certain level no matter the cost. It doesn't demand that we show up the same way day in and day out. It gently implores us to keep showing up, in whatever state we are in that day, and be with our experience.

It teaches us that being honest with ourselves is the first step towards equanimity. Because once we can square with what's in front of us — once we can look at our experience and acknowledge it for what it is  — that's when we find our power.

That's the moment when we can decide to take actions that move us towards harmony.

But we can't do anything about it if we don't see it. And we certainly can't change our experience if we're busy trying to push it away, brush past it, or fall apart at the sight of it.

Yoga asks us to be brave. To be radically compassionate with ourselves. To drop our expectations and our preconceived notions about how we think things should be.

It asks us to be here now, and nothing else. It is beautifully simple and profoundly humbling. And sometimes, in the hardest moments, it’s good to remember that all we need to do is be exactly as we are, and witness our experience.