Resistance and Malasana

Resistance.

That is probably the best way to describe what I have been experiencing these past few weeks since my last entry. As per my usual process, I will try to delve into the word to better understand what it is I'm experiencing.

Resistance, according to Merriam-Webster: the refusal to accept something new or different; effort made to stop or fight against something; the ability to prevent something from having an effect.

I seem to be in resistance mode.  My sense is that I'm trying to fight against the shifts naturally taking place this time of year.  If I think about it, it's a big shift.  We are moving from a time in which we are in full bloom throughout summer and into a time of shedding those dying blooms and retreating inward to strengthen our resources, our fire. But it doesn't feel that way.  It just feels like everything is drying up and blowing away from me. I feel like I have to work harder to see and feel the beauty of the world.

At the same time, the sun is present less and less.  She is fading through the changing angles and motions of the earth and I just don't like it.  I realize that it has to happen. I'm trying hard to embrace that transition, but it is not easy. I'm trying to be kind to myself as I experience resistance, but I can feel by body stiffen, brace itself, worry, fortify, and do everything I can to resist things I can't control.  Futile, perhaps.

Iyengar's Beautiful Malasana

Symbolic of this struggle is my relationship to the yoga pose, malasana.  Garland pose. Iyengar does this pose so beautifully.  But me?  I am the purple bear below trying to access the pose.  Except I'm not smiling. I get angrier and angrier with my body when it won't do what I want it to do.  I stiffen, brace myself, worry, fortify, curse, and stop listening to what my body wants me to hear.  What I know, though, is that the angrier I get, the more impossible it is to do this pose in an effective way.

I will say, though, that I had a moment of serendipity as I started this blog post, because I was looking for descriptions and images of malasana online.  I found a random blog called "five-minute yoga" (http://myfiveminuteyoga.com/411/take-the-five-minute-malasana-challenge/).  The post asks its readers to take the five minute malasana challenge for seven days.  I have been sort of doing this each morning--taking several minutes to practice malasana and get angrier and more upset with my limitations.  But it redirected and reminded me that the point is not to look like Iyengar, but to embrace my heavy-bear moments. It became clear to me this morning in my yoga practice that when I come to this pose, I stop feeling. It becomes more a matter of conquering, accomplishing, this pose.  Why, though? To feel good about myself?  What happens if I stop and just feel the pose?

What happens is that I truly experience the discomfort of my tight hips. I fully experience the fear my body holds with the idea of letting go.  Total resistance.  I realize I need to send my hips love and compassion so they know it is okay to relax and let go.  They do not feel safe in my brutal attempts at fighting my way into the pose and it makes the pose miserable. I can't feel where the tightness centers itself. I can't feel my body at all. I'm on the surface of my skin, bossing my muscles around and as a result, they resist.  They do not want forceable change.

Not unlike in malasana, my body fights against the changes that start moving me into winter. It's like I try to strong-arm myself into accepting the transition from summer through fall and into winter.  I sit at the surface and try to boss myself around and tell myself I need to just be okay and pretend that the world around me isn't changing.  So then my body resists enjoying fall and the release of the beautiful blooms. I try to hold on so tightly to some sort of forever summer and I know it is not sustainable. Yet, I often don't even realize that is what I'm doing.  I lose intention and no longer really know why I'm doing anything that I'm doing.  I'm doing things totally out of habit (even if it is a good habit). Or I do the same practices expecting the same results all the time. That is when I know I'm not doing any of those activities with intention and I can't reap all the benefits that I could.  Fall is the time of harvest. It is the time to reap benefits, but instead of reaping those benefits I find myself worrying and waiting and bracing for some storm to arrive.

Impending doom, as Brene Brown calls it.  I can't enjoy the moment, because I'm so afraid of some other shoe dropping or some bad thing happening to somehow reinforce all my negative talk. You know that talk when you convince yourself that you do not deserve to experience pure joy.  It is such a tender area for me. And this is such a tender season for me.  I need to remember that and be kind.  Therefore, I will take the seven day malasana challenge and practice it with kindness.  I will practice it with intention, reminding myself that it is time to shed the impending doom voice.  Or, at the very least, not let it be the dominant voice in my busy mind.

I hereby promise to report back next week on the outcome of this practice. I will spend this last week of fall holding myself accountable to the season and to malasana.