Loosening Judgment

Saturday morning yoga. After not sleeping much the night before, I wasn’t looking forward to it. But it’s a ritual for me that I seldom miss unless I’m out of town and I’m always glad for it afterwards. Afterwards, but not necessarily during.

My instructor is wonderful. A very conscious, spiritual man with a great sense of humor and a sassy streak. I try to remember this while he pokes and prods at me (he would use the term “adjusts”) during my asanas. I’ve never met anyone who made a simple crescent lunge so hard. “Make sure your knee doesn’t kick in and tracks over your toes.” “Strong through your core, tailbone to the floor.”” Keep those ribs in, they’re splaying out.” “Shoulders down the back. Activate those arms and roll that back leg inward.” “Oh and bend that knee deeper while you’re at it. I know you can.” “Breathe.” One pose down. Thirty or so to go.

I wish I could say I took this all with grace. But truth be told, yoga is more than just the physical practice for me. Getting in and out of poses, no matter how challenging are almost easier than the mental gymnastics I go through during the 90 minute session. There is a lot of frustration and self judgment I have to contend with. That inner Voice that makes up these crazy rules and expectations is never more vocal than when I’m the focus of someone else’s attention. Being watched only ratchets up the volume of my self talk.

But this is why I go to yoga. Because what shows u

p in yoga shows up in my life. Where better to practice letting go of my demons and strengthening my flabby self compassion muscle than on my mat?