Sweet Spot

Handstands make me happy.

Sounds odd, but it is true!

This month, I learned something new in yoga. We are incorporating Handstands at the start of our Vinyasas, the transition sequence of which we do many, moving from a low push up to a high push up and back to a downward facing dog.

For me, it is great fun, and I cannot believe how elated I get over it.

Really, I never would have thought that I would be happiest upside down, but this is so, and the feeling lasts once I'm upright again.

Incorporating Handstands changes up the same old, and now the Vinyasas offer up an opportunity and a challenge as opposed to their normal reprieve from the practice.

In general, I am getting better and better at facing change. Just the other day, someone I know well was telling me how much he likes structure in his life. I was surprised to hear this as he always seems so spontaneous to me, always making me feel like the one who needs a plan.

I was even more surprised to hear myself tell him that these days I find freedom in just being, in not always knowing my next step.

I used to be a big planner. Now, not so much. I find this helps me move more easily through my life’s flow. Now, I have come to appreciate the benefits of not always knowing, or having to know, what comes next. 

In case I miss my balance, I keep my mat close to the wall. And, after one or two regular Vinyasas, I start to incorporate the Handstand. 

Going for the Handstand is always touch and go. My objective is to invert without using the wall, to find the sweet spot and just hang.

Sometimes it works, and sometimes it does not. And it is kind of fun not knowing what will happen.

Once upon a time, I was all about lining things up. My work life, my home life, my personal life. And for a long time, for the most part, life did line up according to my plan. But, after a point, there were so many things out of my control that impacted all of my lives that I had no choice but to let them go.

In hindsight, this is very freeing. It has taught me to be okay with not knowing every outcome in the face of change.

When trying for the Handstand, the best feeling comes when not much effort is applied, when I just kick up and let one foot meet the other in mid-air. I never know if I will find the balance until I do and, when I do, it is always a sweet surprise. 

The practice allows for us to hold the Handstand if we find the balance and to come down in our own time, even if the class has moved forward through its Vinyasas. I find that, on the few occasions when I nail it, I can linger in that sweet spot for some length of time if I do not get too distracted.

What my time upside down has taught me is to recognize and be grateful for when I can find the sweet spot and just hang, and that it is often easier to do so without distraction and without the worries about what ifs and whatnots.

This is what I hear when our instructor tells us to keep on going -- to hang on to this time for as long as I can.

The other day, I bought a card. The words that filled the front read, Yesterday is history, Tomorrow is mystery, Today is a gift.

I think today is the sweet spot.

Adaptation

At first, I fit yoga into my life.  Now, I fit my life into yoga.

For a while, my practice shifted from the early mornings to the evenings.

It had been quite strange and a big adjustment, as I am a morning person and not so much an evening one.

After a full day’s work, it would sometimes be difficult to drag myself to the studio.

And, on those mornings, I would have to pack up oodles of odds and ends to prepare for the day:

My yoga mat which I aired out each night; my yoga bag with my gear; the bobby pins and tie-back for my hair, and sneakers and a tee-shirt to don after practice as each night I would change from my work clothes upon arrival at the studio.

Before leaving the house each morning, I would hoist my mat bag over my shoulder, overlap it with my yoga bag of clothes, followed by my briefcase and then, of course, my purse.

I am a creature of habit as my son likes to point out. 

I find a restaurant I love, and it is the only place I want to go. 

I am at a job where lots of people come and go, but I tease everyone that I will be the last one standing. 

I am the only one of my siblings that stayed local and, in fact, I raised my children right down the street from where I grew up. 

Needless to say, I fussed through my change of schedule and the fact that I had to transport all of my gear each day.

The studio was different.

There was no music. There was a different smell. The parking was not as easy.

But then, after a time, I got more used to sleeping a little later.

And, after work, I found it a welcome relief to change out of my heels and into my bare feet and sit in the heat of the studio after sitting at my desk all day. 

After a while, I grew to like the windows that surrounded the practice room, and the incense they burned did not smell so bad after all.

I guess for someone who resists adapting to new things, I did a pretty good job. 

Just becoming a yogi was a big change in itself and, if I think about it, that transformation should prove to me that I can adapt myself to other changes, too. 

It just takes me a little while to settle into something new as I have a tendency to look backward more than forward.

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.

These are not the words of my yoga instructor; instead, they are the famous words of the Danish philosopher and theologian, Soren Kierkegaard. 

So, even though for a while my yoga was different, it did not stop me from moving my practice forward. 

And, as yoga often does, it was teaching me another lesson of doing the same in my life.

I would think about this when we moved through a pose called Extended Side Angle. It is a pose that moves the body forward but has the eyes looking back. 

Extended Side Angle starts in Warrior II, in a lunge with hips open to the side and arms extending out parallel to the mat. Slowly, the torso tilts forward, and the front elbow lands on the front thigh. The back arm rises to the heavens and the heart tilts open towards the sky.  Then, further instructions are given:

Reach forward for something new. Reach for the beauty and for the freedom of something you want.

With this instruction, I reach my top arm over my ear and extend it to the front of the room, taking my torso with it while my heart twists ever more open. 

I find this pose empowering and freeing. The chin tucks, and the eyes find their stare point toward the back of the room.

In this pose, I learn that reaching forward literally comes hand in hand with looking back and opening the heart. 

Maybe if Kierkegaard were around today, he would look back to find he carried the foresight of a yogi.