Since I moved out west, I’ve been practicing yoga. Necessary disclaimer: just because I’ve been “practicing,” does not mean that I’m actually “flexible” or “good.” Actually, after 6 months, I’m neither. I still can’t grab my feet and keep my legs fully straight and there are many poses in which my soccer-acclimated body gets totally in the way of me pretending to be an actual, functioning yogi. Never the less, the practice has been significant for me; yoga has forced me to learn how to be relatively still for 90 consecutive minutes (which has never been a usual occurrence). It’s also given me a medium to learn about myself and integrate previously independent thoughts, feelings, or events. One moment this week was truly significant, and it involved a back bend. From, Yoga for Inner Strength, Jessie Chapman states that, “bending back and opening the chest also unlocks the spirit within. Practicing these postures takes you along previously untraveled paths, challenging you to overcome fear and frustration, teaching you to move with ease and grace and to live with an open heart and a passion for life and love” (p. 164) I haven’t fully committed to doing a back bend for the past 6 months of practice. The only reasoning that I can attribute to this is that I simply didn’t think I could do it. Thus, I didn’t try. Seems reasonable, right? But for some reason, last Wednesday, when it came time for the back bend, something in my brain said, “just do it” (cue Nike clichés), and I did. It was a pretty poignant moment for me; not only did I increase the breadth of my practice, but it brought to the surface something I knew to be true about myself but had never seen the physical manifestation of: Like many athletes, I was driven by a “fear of failure” during my competitive playing days. And after I finally did this back bend, I researched and found out that “those who have difficulty in bending backwards may be frightened to face life” (http://www.yoga.net.au/back_bends.html). Dramatic? Maybe. But even so, I don’t think my admitted athletically-related “fear of failure” and the supposed back bend-related fear of “facing life” are completely unrelated. So now, with the ability to bend backwards in tow, I find myself asking myself how I can look forward and fully embrace the opportunity to take on life. 

Since I moved out west, I’ve been practicing yoga. Necessary disclaimer: just because I’ve been “practicing,” does not mean that I’m actually “flexible” or “good.” Actually, after 6 months, I’m neither. I still can’t grab my feet and keep my legs fully straight and there are many poses in which my soccer-acclimated body gets totally in the way of me pretending to be an actual, functioning yogi.

Never the less, the practice has been significant for me; yoga has forced me to learn how to be relatively still for 90 consecutive minutes (which has never been a usual occurrence). It’s also given me a medium to learn about myself and integrate previously independent thoughts, feelings, or events.

One moment this week was truly significant, and it involved a back bend. From, Yoga for Inner Strength, Jessie Chapman states that,

“bending back and opening the chest also unlocks the spirit within. Practicing these postures takes you along previously untraveled paths, challenging you to overcome fear and frustration, teaching you to move with ease and grace and to live with an open heart and a passion for life and love” (p. 164)

I haven’t fully committed to doing a back bend for the past 6 months of practice. The only reasoning that I can attribute to this is that I simply didn’t think I could do it. Thus, I didn’t try. Seems reasonable, right?

But for some reason, last Wednesday, when it came time for the back bend, something in my brain said, “just do it” (cue Nike clichés), and I did. It was a pretty poignant moment for me; not only did I increase the breadth of my practice, but it brought to the surface something I knew to be true about myself but had never seen the physical manifestation of:

Like many athletes, I was driven by a “fear of failure” during my competitive playing days. And after I finally did this back bend, I researched and found out that “those who have difficulty in bending backwards may be frightened to face life” (http://www.yoga.net.au/back_bends.html).

Dramatic? Maybe. But even so, I don’t think my admitted athletically-related “fear of failure” and the supposed back bend-related fear of “facing life” are completely unrelated.

So now, with the ability to bend backwards in tow, I find myself asking myself how I can look forward and fully embrace the opportunity to take on life.