I love the humbling moments in my physical practice. They always serve as a potent reminder of why I do this at all.
I touch a pose I’ve been working on for a solid year – of my own accord without assist(!) – and my human mind that has been working so patiently, steadfastly, suddenly reaches out for the future…. A week, two weeks, it will be mine. But then I remember as I come back again. Nope, not how it works.
Two weeks later I am still only catching glimpses here and there. Two weeks later I am ever-so-slightly stronger, the tiniest bit more in control (and in awe) of strange and deep parts of my body I’d never spoken with (Hello ankles. Pleased to make your acquaintance). Two weeks later, I remember (again) that this is how it works. The only sure thing is that when (or if) I can ever “do” this one thing, it will change. It will be different each time. I will still be learning, growing, refining (always). I will still fall (and lick my wounds, and get back up). THIS is how LIFE works. THIS is why I do this.
My body is my teacher. Through this skin & muscle & bones, this heartbeat and lungs, I learn to be present in the beautiful moments all along the way. I learn to set my aim and work diligently, but I also learn patience, I learn to revel in the joy of the experience – in the pose – on the way there – or the loss of gravity on the way down. I learn to love (this moment, my fear, my SELF), I learn to let go and I learn to LIVE. This, is why I do this.