I used to be someone who practiced Ashtanga Yoga in the traditional method six days a week – what I considered a real Ashtangi.  Just saying that makes me cringe a little but, well, it’s true.  Even though I had convinced myself otherwise, I was hyped up on a smug sense of superiority because I was doing it right and I was doing it the hardest way possible: by myself, no teacher or group motivation, the same tough and daunting routine six mornings a week, rain hail or shine.

In other words, I was a SUCCESS!!!

But then the fall came – I had to stop practicing for a while due to a small recurring injury and now, though it kills me to admit it, I’m finding it incredibly hard to get back into my regular routine.  For the first time in over a year, I am no longer practicing Ashtanga yoga every morning (cue melodramatic weeping).

I have FAILED!!!

As overly dramatic as that may sound, there is real truth to it in my mind.  I was doing so good before!  I was so committed and dedicated and solid – I don’t even manage to shower every day and there I was being super-duper disciplined, practicing a tough and daunting yoga routine on my own six mornings a week, even when that required an insanely early start to my day.  I mean, come on, that was pretty fucking awesome!

Yoga is supposed to lead you out of suffering into peace and happiness.  Ironically, the physical element of it has caused me undue tension and worry.  I was so attached to this part of the practice I may as well have been super-glued to my mat in order to feel good about myself.

Sadly, as long as you base your self-esteem on something external, it’s about as helpful as puffing up a balloon with all your feelings of value as a human being and then letting go of it before tying a knot; you’re going to watch it being propelled erratically skywards with your self-esteem farting noisily out the end.

Yup that’s what has happened to me and I’m left feeling shriveled up and pretty useless because I decided to base my sense of worth and value on the fact that I was able to do something really hard that a lot of other people can’t.  I know a lot of yoga practitioners out there who love Ashtanga and will practice the Primary series but only either in a group with a teacher or sporadically on their own.  Trust me, it’s damn friggin’ hard to maintain the level of commitment and discipline required to do one to two hours of intensive yoga practice by yourself every single day.

But I was doing it!  And that made me feel like I was special and cool and confident… until the day came when I realized I wasn’t able to do it anymore.

Oh.

Now that special thing is gone and I feel flat and dull and pretty un-special…

So now what?

Well now it’s time to call on a special friend who’s been neglected too much and she’s called Gentle Forgiveness.  There’s been so much rigid discipline and tough love this past year in relation to my yoga practice and look where that’s got me – to the point of feeling like a loser because I’m not doing it anymore.  Um, tell me something, is that the point of yoga??

“Our practice should cultivate inquiry, sensitivity, and kindness to ourselves. If we force ourselves to stick to the series no matter what is happening in our body and mind, we have missed the whole point of yoga.”

Maty Ezraty

Doh!  Despite learning a ton and growing massively over the year of my regular, steady Ashtanga practice, it seems I was missing a crucial element in the whole thing.  And that would be my long-lost buddy Gentle Forgiveness.  Discipline will help you only if you’re willing to put in a lot of effort and often some sacrifice.  That can be necessary and massively good for you (without it we’d probably all be eating cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner).  But it’s a one-way street with Discipline; you get only what you give.  Gentle Forgiveness on the other hand will help you as much as you want and more, even if you haven’t spoken to her in years.  Even if you haven’t spoken to her ever.  You just have to ask.  So I did and here are some of the things I learned.

1. I’m still alive
2. I’m still a relatively normal happy human being.
3. My husband still loves me
4. My friends and family still love me
5. My body is still strong and healthy
6. Life is carrying on regardless
7. I’m actually pretty ok
8. I can go back to it at any time and most likely will someday soon
9. I’m still a good and worthy human being with or without a strong Ashtanga practice
10. I can survive without my Ashtanga practice

This last one is the big one!  If I can survive so well without the practice then perhaps I’ve just executed one of one of the hardest ‘asanas’ of them all: letting go.  The ultimate goal of yoga is always to find liberation, freedom, peace and happiness.  These things will only arise once we stop clinging desperately to our desires.  As a funny internet quote says

You gotta let that shit go!

It’s not exactly an asana you master overnight you understand, this “Surrendasana” (see what I did there?!) – I mean I’d still love if I could do the splits or a fancy handstand like the ones you see on Instagram and I’d still love to have a pretty home and heck if I won the lottery I’d be pretty freakin’ over the moon!!

But, at least I’ve dipped my toes in the cool, slightly scary waters of surrender and it’s so fascinatingly weird and different and intriguing… I might just try it again.

I used to be someone who practiced Ashtanga yoga in the traditional method, six days a week, what I now consider a beginner Ashtangi.  After all, a true Ashtangi has a fully developed sense of self-worth and self-love that is independent of whether or not they’re doing the full practice everyday.

A true Ashtangi is who I aspire to be one day (and if I’m being totally honest I really hope I can manage the full splits by then too!).