Thanks to all who participated in the OM Yoga in a Box Giveaway, and congratulations to the winner–Vera! May it enhance your home practice.
I took a workshop last weekend called “Flightasana–I Believe I Can Fly”. It was on inversions and arm balances.
These families of poses ain’t for sissies. Not because they are physically challenging, though they are, to be sure. But even more, they challenge our sense of what we can and can’t do.
They can be scary, and they do demand strength. I used to think it was arm strength (not my forte), but now I think it is more strength from the core. “Core”–that much-overused word–loosely refers to abdominal strength, but really denotes all those muscles that support the spine (hint: it’s 3-D!). These muscles are definitely important in inversions and arm balances. But here I use it to mean something even deeper than that, even more central and essential. Something that isn’t even entirely physical. A voice from far down inside that says, “I can do this.”
Because, as Henry Ford said, “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t–you’re right.” In other words, if you think you can’t, you’re finished. Thinking you can is a prerequisite (even if you turn out to have been wrong).
These poses are about working with fear and doubt as much as they are about strength and balance. They ask you to look at your fears head on, and say, “Thanks for your input, but I’m doing this anyway.” Even if it seems crazy. Even if it seems you have no business trying to do what you are doing. Even if you have never managed to do it before. Even if you might fall.
I actually fall pretty often in yoga class, but not out of inversions. When going upside down I am careful–too careful, I began to think, to really be exploring the poses completely. So I asked a teacher once if there is a proper way to fall out of a headstand. He seemed to think it a weird question, but it was an important one to me; I wanted to feel less fear and more freedom, and it seemed knowing how to fall was key.
If I am confident I can fall with minimal chances of hurting myself, then it’s a lot easier to leave the ground. Maybe it should have been obvious how. It wasn’t. Maybe wanting to know is hedging. Maybe it’s just good sense and an instinct for self-preservation . . . Whatever the case may be, knowing how to fall, I can honor that instinct, and then take off.
What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll be on the floor. Same place I’d be if I’d stayed curled up in a little ball, too afraid to go up. It will be different, though, because I will have flown, maybe just for an instant. The more I am willing to risk, the stronger those muscles of courage and faith will get.
The question “What if I fall?” can keep you paralyzed forever. Take it as a given, and learn how to fall. Then you can fly!
P.S. Stay tuned to the blog for some video footage of falling–coming soon!