The picture of perfection

must be revised.

Allow for our imperfections,

welcome them . . .

Recently, I happened upon an intensive advertised for “Intermediate & Advanced” practitioners of yoga.  There was a list of prerequisites for attending that included being able to hold Head Stand for 5 minutes, Shoulder Stand for 10 minutes and the ability to push up multiple times from the floor (or chair) into Upward Bow.  

Although everyone has a right to decide who can and cannot study with them, I felt saddened (and a little angry) that advanced yoga continues to be defined by a check-list of physical attributes, many of which were arbitrarily dished out by the Celestial Design Committee at birth.

Paradoxically, many of the senior teachers I deeply respect, with decades of wisdom to share, would likely be rejects for this event, not out of lack of experience, or practice, or commitment, but because these practices are no longer appropriate for them (or never were).

As someone born with spina bifida occulta (a tiny gap in my lumbar vertebrae), an extra rib on one side of my cervical spine, and a hereditary tendency to fragile capillaries, I had to stop practicing Head Stand in my mid-forties.  Having multiple blood vessels burst in your eyelids must certainly be a warning sign worth listening to!  Despite years of forceful daily practice, my spine never particularly liked deep back bends, arguably the yoga status symbol of our time. No matter.  None of these abilities defines who we are.

What interests me now is seeing how yoga practitioners, peers and colleagues demonstrate their “advanced” through gracefully accepting limitations and working with them to create beautiful and unique versions of practices that are testaments to progress.  It can mean patiently rebuilding capacities and tending to and sustaining those so important to ease in daily life.  Most of all, to be advanced is to go beyond “us” and “them”; to be generous, kind, and caring to others. You never know the hundred faltering steps that led a person to where they are today. Every body has a story.

Because advanced is any movement that draws us closer to the truth of who we really are. 

Warmly,

Donna

*[1] Extract from “Modulations”, from the book Life in the Forest by Denise Levertov, New Directions, New York, 1975