Every yoga class is a long, hard, 90 minute journey. I start out vigorous, strong and ready to dig in. By the fifth pose I’m reaffirming my grit. After battling breathing, dizziness, balancing, heat, and sweat, I begin to settle in and get down to business. The rest of the standing series passes productively. The two minute savasana gives a still break. Next comes the spine series. I have a strong spine. It is here I work to build more strength in it, but soon I get tired and fatigued. Next comes the floor series with a sit up in between each pose. The sit ups revive me me and return my energy. After camel, there are three last poses left. This is the last stretch. My mind starts creeping in. I don’t want to do anymore. My strength is beginning to fade again. I just want to STOP and curl up against the wall with my towel and water. I have free will in the yoga room. There is no one stopping me from just quitting and laying down for the rest of the class. Why don’t I? Why do I NEVER? How come I ALWAYS manage to push through those last three poses? In fact, giving up on those last three poses, no matter how little I have left to give, is downright inconceivable to me. Why?
Driving home I thought long and hard about that. I think pushing through those last three poses serves as a daily reminder of how I behave outside the studio. There are difficulties in this life that don’t go away quickly or easily. My back gets held against the wall for an inordinate amount of time. Just as in the 90 minute practice each day, things often get worse before they get better. I know I’m in the last stretch, but just like after camel, there is little comfort in that. I want to shelve it all and give up. Curl up with my towel. Lay down just before the finish line.
On my beach walk today I felt like laying down just before the finish line. The beach was totally empty. It was cloudy, but a warm 50 degrees. The water was calm. The horizon line was so straight. Not a wave or boat to mar it. I stopped. I stood there and looked at that horizon. I thought about those last three poses in yoga, wondering if lying down before the finish line negates the whole journey. I turned and resumed walking down the lonely beach, slowly, putting one foot deliberately in front of the other. I felt the air stir. My heavy heart suddenly lightened when something occurred to me. The thing that came to mind was a question we were posed yesterday in our women’s bible study:
“In what circumstances in your life have you not been willing to consider the circumstances simply because it seemed too difficult?”
I heard myself answer yesterday, “I never mind the challenges. The part I find difficult is if I’m doing the right things. Am I letting God lead me, or am I doing my own thing?”
Hmmm….I blurted out that I never mind the challenges… I never mind challenges. It seems the last stretch is where I learn the most about myself. I learn just what I am made of. I learn just how much I have left to give. I learn that I don’t mind challenges.
My steps got faster and felt lighter. I looked up ahead as I walked toward home, instead of hanging my head. I was actually smiling. The beach didn’t feel lonely anymore. I felt a presence beside me saying, “You never mind the challenges, but you must remember to keep yourself safe and well-cared for as you deal with them. You are not alone.” I felt safe. I felt strong. I felt I can make it through the last stretch. Now I know why it is inconceivable to me that I would ever sit out those last three poses.
And so, as another day goes by, I continue to keep my eyes on the horizon, and…I have written.
First, and before anything… good for grit. It keeps us going. Curling up against a wall with water and a favorite “blankee” is such a comforting thought, but it only leaves you curled up against a wall. Comfort only lasts so long. Pretty soon those muscles start to cramp and the water runs dry.
So good for grit that keeps us moving and shaking! I admire your 90 minutes of focused grit. A true inspiration!