This too shall pass

I’ve been unusually aware of the fleeting present, lately. This past weekend of yoga training was painful and sad, in the best of ways–if that makes any sense.

Early a.m. Bikram led by one of Bikram’s longtime colleagues was definitely one source of sorrow and sweet, sweet release. Plenty of students in my training are not hot yoga devotees, but all of us had to practice yesterday, and speaking as a veteran I felt it was a tough but not excessively tough experience. However, also speaking as a veteran, I confess that my experience is completely subjective and I promise you others felt differently.

But even as my classmates and I suffered, I relished the sensations, reminding myself that “this too shall pass.” Bikram class always ends, and I always survive, every time. And I knew what a rare opportunity it was to be in the room with so many senior teachers and management VIPs.

After a break, when we reunited back at the vinyasa studio, the skies were gray and wind twisted tree branches outside the window. Our anatomy instructor-turned-guidance counselor talked with us about our experiences in the hot room, and as I watched cool raindrops drip I felt a gentle melancholy.

The group of people who share my Fridays and Saturdays and Sundays is going to dissipate. I’ve learned from previous social experience what to expect….For better or worse, some of us will stay in touch, will split into clusters. The listserve will remain intact. But communication will be unreliable and sporadic. All these lives I’m just beginning to know, and it seems I’m about to lose everyone in that room, as well as the comfort of lingering in it and learning about love.

This morning, again in the training studio, I was nursing similar sentiments–and then I was given the framework to overcome my concerns. Our a.m. lecture was by a revered master, one of a couple who we’ve been privileged enough to meet.

[Side note: These guys don’t necessarily seem super special at first glance (no offense to them) but the wisdom they hold is tremendous and the energy they give off is amazing. Because the are amazing. If I believed in having gurus, they’d be my gurus. They are old enough to be grandfathers and they trained and learned firsthand from a superrevered master who founded an entire institute, he loved yoga so much. Basically, their teacher was extraordinary and so are they.]

One of the pair had given his farewell speech the afternoon before, on the heels of the debriefing session/pep talk. I found myself writing down nearly every word he said, and intend to continue learning from him. This morning, his friend discussed with us the yoga sutras.

And so it is that on week eight of a ten-week program, I have finally felt the heartbeat of yoga. I’d already been briefly introduced to the ethical foundations of the practice–I read the beginning of Light on Yoga just before the start of training, and I was aware and mostly convinced that yoga belongs off the mat as well as on. That, like it or not, yoga is a way of life. But today I realized I’m ready to make yoga my way of life.

I fret about the stigma of yoga as a lifestyle. I worry that if I claim to be on a spiritual path, I will be misunderstood, held to an unrealistic standard. And I fear that people will not try yoga if the practice sounds too serious. But I can’t get caught up in the judgments of others, and anyway, to a certain degree yoga is serious, because it creates joy. And the playfulness of joy is worth taking seriously.

The sutras of the yamas and niyamas are basically the Ten Commandments of Yoga, except they’re more like suggestions because yoga isn’t pushy. But yoga is honest, and it is a means of living a good life. And now that I understand the basic tenets of yoga’s philosophical foundation, I know I can trust myself to explore what it offers. As I was recently told, “all we have is the grave somewhere in the distance.” Closer, further out…it doesn’t matter. What matters is what we do in the meantime.

My program is ending. The grave of my training, my incubation, is just a couple of weeks away. I am still not exactly sure what I’m doing next, but in the meantime I have enough clues to inform my actions. I know what to do (or not do) in order to move in my intended direction(s). I can commit to my choices of focus with honest attention, and I am confident I will move forward. I have made beautiful gains, and the inner knowledge will remain.

And just like this edifying experience was an anticipated event, so will it become memory, and that is all right. This too shall pass, everything does, and thank goodness for this or something better!