Photo by: Charlene Miller
I used to have a pretty idealistic view of what it meant to have a “good” practice:
In my yoga practice, having a “good” practice meant I nailed all my asana’s, my breath and my movement danced in harmonious synchronicity, and I was able to complete my practice with complete ease in my body, and calm in my heart. In seated meditation a “good” practice meant I would leave with a feeling of total bliss – like I was wrapped up in a warm blanket of pure awareness.
I cannot tell you how infrequently either of those things have happened for me. So you can imagine my disappointment every time I stepped on my mat, or went to sit for a meditation.
My teacher says that a “good” practice is simply getting on your mat or your cushion everyday. That’s it.
A good practice is showing up. It’s making the time for it, and just doing it. There isn’t anything inherent about any practice that makes it good or bad – practice is just practice. You get to show up and notice how you are everyday – and the practice is sitting with that. The practice is being able to observe your thoughts, feelings, emotions, physical abilities or disabilities without judgement, exactly as they are.
Here’s the thing: Practice is still a battle for me. I think it’s a battle for everyone. It’s not easy to get on your mat, or sit everyday for a meditation and confront yourself and your deepest, darkest demons – you know those ones you buried deep down that you never thought you’d see again, or the ones you didn’t know you had? Yea, those ones. Because trust me, they come out. For the first few months of my Ashtanga yoga practice, my fiance had to drive me to work because I couldn’t control my tears after practice. It felt like I was a garden, and someone had come along uprooted every flower, leaving me to clean up the mess.
It was messy, that’s for sure. But I kept going. Looking back, I’m kinda like – wait, what? I still went? Even after it felt like someone had destroyed me from the inside out? But I did. I kept with it. Through the discomfort, the pain, the struggle – both internal and external – I kept going. And I continue to go. Every. Damn. Day. I am no expert, I’m like a little baby yogi, just scratching the surface of what there is to discover. But I find myself slowly letting go of the ideal practice. It has taken a long time, but I am beginning to lean into the discomfort that a steady practice brings you.
A steady practice is where the juice is!
And it totally doesn’t matter what it looks like! Where it’s a seated meditation, walking meditation, standing meditation, the most complicated asana, the most basic asana, a steady cross-fit regime, running, cooking, ANYTHNING – what matters is that you choose to show up every day, and notice.
Over time you will observe the ups and downs that naturally exist within all things – and only with practice will you learn to soften into the downs, and be humble in your ups.
