"JUMP INTO CROW POSE!!" Dana shouts from the back of the room. "Yeah.... probably not," the little doubter that lives in the back of my head whispers. I am in one of Dana's packed noon classes, absolutely soaked in sweat and quivering in downward facing dog. I take a deep inhale, bend my knees, lift my hips and launch my heart forward with the out breath. My shins land squarely on my triceps, but my toes are still clinging to the floor. "Just like every other time," whispers the doubter. I lift my toes off the ground, somewhat crestfallen, and come into crow from the ground up.
Now I know that jumping into crow from adho mukha svanasana is not an easy transition. I also know that "easy" and "difficult" are subjective terms that are temporary and not to be confused with truth. And I hold close to my heart the understanding that poses are simply a way into the realm of the spirit, not the end of the line. But in these holy moments where my body is facing an edge of some kind and I have no prior reference for actually lifting my hips high enough and measuring distance accurately enough to softly land in bakasana, what I encounter is mild frustration combined with a mistrust of the process. In other words, I run right into the sort of thinking that needs to be seen.
The asana practice is one of those experimental zones where we can really test the waters of the mind. Often what comes up is recognition of my own courage, compassion and longing to connect--but not always. I just as often slam into a psychic wall of fear and discontentment. I find that if notice myself being harsh or doubtful on the mat, chances are good that I approach myself with the same attitude off the mat. So I try to think of the breath as a compassionate searchlight that illuminates the darker corners of the mind. It's a safe place to encounter patterns of thinking that don't serve the moment or our long term spiritual growth.
The challenge is to be kind with ourselves when the breath uncovers a layer of doubt, judgement and negativity. "Sthiram Sukham Asanam" (firm but sweet yoga poses) is how Patanjali describes the asana practice. Steady and sweet is also a powerful way of approaching the mind and all of its discomfort. To stay put and not run, to not doubt myself even when doubting but simply to notice. When we approach ourselves with this unflinching and loving observation, our true power makes its way closer to the surface. It's a sustainable strength that is beyond sticking a pose and keeps us returning to the mat and bowing with reverence to whatever we experience.
Underneath every dark thought is the desire to love and be loved. When we approach ourselves and others with that understanding, we are living the mantra "Lokah Samastah Sukinoh Bhavantu" (may all beings be happy and free)--and may I contribute to that happiness and freedom. This is how we experience true limitlessness.
