Motivation

We’re doing a challenge through January on my Facebook page: we have committed to do a certain yoga practice for the 31 days. Some have promised to begin or end their day with yoga, others to meditate every day, each person has made their own promise to themselves based on their needs or interest.

We are doing it because January is a tough time of the year for many people and this particular January there is a lot of bad news around with regard to the pandemic. This is a way for us to try to get through the month with as much grace, humour and kindness as possible, by doing yoga regularly.

We are holding each other accountable. We post when we have practised and we read about other people’s practice. Folks check in and communicate with each other. It’s a happy and supportive place to be this month.

I don’t fully understand why the simple act of coming together to do this helps us to stay true to the commitment that we have made. People are sharing that they wouldn’t have come to their mat (they were busy, exhausted, interrupted by a family member…) if it wasn’t for this challenge and therefore how grateful that they are to be taking part.

It is very motivating.

Perhaps motivation is the wrong word? Motivation comes and goes. Nobody is motivated all of the time. What is then that takes over and sees us coming to our mat even when we don’t feel like it?

Accountability to the group: we are social creatures and this is a friendly group. Others have shared their daily experience and this encourages us to do our bit, make our own contribution.

Faith. The Sanskrit word for this is Sraddha and we find it Yoga Sutra 1.20. Encapsulated here is the idea that when motivation is low, our faith in the practice of yoga helps us come to the mat. Most of us know what practising yoga gives us: peace, calm, a more comfortable way of living - that’s why we do it. When motivation is low, simple faith in yoga’s efficacy helps us to overcome lethargy and do a little of what helps.

Kindness. Everyone in the group has chosen their commitment with self-compassion in mind. They have asked themselves what will make them feel better this month and designed their practice with only that aim in mind. This makes the whole experience nurturing, positive and kind.

Flexibility. Yoga takes many forms: breathwork, asana, meditation, relaxation, mantra, etc. The commitment here is to come to your mat - how you practice will look different every day and rightly so. This means that you are working with your body, mind and emotions, not pushing through them to fulfil a goal.

Someone said they are enjoying the routine and I love that. The routine of self-care.

Someone else said that after their practice they could ‘go back and join the melee with a calm mind’ When we feel calmer and more whole, we are nicer people to be around and have more to give.

More words from the group: feeling grateful, feeling reflective, a lot of peace and stillness, glad of this incentive to come to my mat every day, probably wouldn’t have gone back this evening otherwise!

Fear is catching. The world has shown us that over the last 2 years. But so is peace. In an atmosphere of kindness and mutual support we are inspiring each other simply by sharing our own experiences of yoga. It’s a fine way to move through this darkest of months.

Sarah x

Embracing the Dark

I wish I could remember, when I am in darkness, that there is much to learn there.

Intellectually I know this, because I have witnessed it very many times. What rises when I emerge from a quiet, dark time is inspiration, renewed commitment and very often a new idea or way forward that turns out to be exactly the right direction for me.

But it is hard to recall this when you are in the middle of it.

The dark times, which in my life turn up as feelings of sadness and grief, I characterise as a need to withdraw a little, the sense of making myself very small and keeping very quiet while the process works its way through.

These are the times when it is important to stay warm, take good, quiet but steadfast care of myself and to let myself feel whatever is asking to be felt.

It’s not easy.

Why it feels like some kind of failure, I can’t quite put my finger on. Perhaps I have been sold the misguided conviction that life should always feel positive, that I should always be working to move forwards, that ambition rules.

This is what I have learned:

The dark, quiet times pass. It is very important not to degrade the experience, which I see as one ultimately of hope, by rejecting yourself when you are most in need. When the dark, quiet times come, I have to be mindful every day about not falling into self-recrimination or worse, self-flagellation. I used to do that, it doesn't help, it only fuels a descent into something much more lonely and hopeless.

Small steps are enough. What will make you feel better when you go to bed tonight? You don’t need to change the world today, you only need to create a meal, walk the dog, do your meditation.

Be careful which voices you choose to let into your world. Now is not the time for arguments on the radio, or habitually checking the news. I can tell you it will be bad (bad news gets clicks) and knowing it won’t help you just now. Choose voices that you love, that offer you solace and comfort. Mine are folks such as Gabor Maté, Brene Brown, Harper Lee, Byron Katie, Ram Dass … their voices soothe, whether they are on paper or via podcast.

My darkness is lifting, which is why I am able to write this today. When I am inside it, I am unable to do much but my daily practice and the small tasks of life.

But here’s the thing: something needed to be sifted through and considered. Something new came up (as things are wont to to do) and I had to sit quietly with it for a while to understand it and then to encompass that new understanding into the way I live now. This was quite painful and difficult, but on the far side of the darkness lies greater clarity, understanding and forgiveness. Always.

If I was to reject this process entirely, for fear of the darkness, then I would never get to the other side where the fruits of honest reflection lie.

If you understand what I am writing about, if you too sometimes feel overwhelmed, grief-stricken and sad, then I hope you too will find a way to hold yourself kindly and with love through these times. I hope you can find the courage to sit with yourself honestly and not avoid what is asking to be seen. I hope you find as much solace in your yoga practice and the wisdom of yogis through the ages as I do.

On the other side is something more compassionate, more filled with forgiveness and understanding and more wise. I promise you that. Life is a great teacher.

Sarah x

That's how the light gets in

My friend is about to set sail on her boat. She is planning on a visit to the Channel Islands, then on to France and down to Italy. She has a plan; she has her qualifications; she knows how to sail and where she hopes to go, but it is not she who will decide where she actually ends up: That will depend on things she cannot control: the wind, the tides, the weather.

I am sent a blog from someone who writes with candour and humility about her depression: She has had to learn the difference between her dream of a perfect self and the reality of a human life, which is sculpted into beauty from the mess and scrappiness of the everyday, not surgically cut from the cloth of our plans and our will to see them become reality.

There is a difference between what we plan for in life and what really happens. How we deal with the gap between the two makes such a difference to the level of contentment we are able to find in life.

We set off in life like my friend in her boat, with a plan of action and an idea of what we are going to achieve. Then things naturally beyond our control throw us off course and take us to places we did not want to visit: the uncharted waters of bereavement, disappointment, sadness, disagreement and uncertainty. What are we to do? Often we ask ourselves, Why me? Or even, What is wrong with me that this should happen (and sometimes, keep on happening)?

Why me? is the right question, but we need to ask it with curiosity: Why me? What do I have to learn? Which of my weaknesses and blind spots are being revealed? How am I going to grow where I need to grow? What do I need to move towards? What do I need to let go of?

When we ask this way, we avoid victimhood and anger and fill our lives with meaning and purpose instead. When we ask this way, we learn how to do things differently, how to choose wisely and how to take very good care of ourselves. In this way, we make something beautiful and full of love out of difficulty and strife.

You have probably heard the Japanese word kintsukuroi: it is the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

Knowing that we have the capacity to become more beautiful from the cracks in our veneer, stronger from the things that have shattered us, we cannot sit for long with the kind of self-pity that bleats, “Poor me” It is hard when you are in the midst of darkness, but the light will return and with it a new depth to your capacity for compassion and understanding than you ever knew before.

Sarah x