In hindsight I probably shouldn’t have gone to class.
I should have changed into my shorts and tank top, got comfy on the couch and started to make my way through my DVR.
I’m tired and I was suddenly cranky. When I got home tonight I was short with the dogs, who weren’t really disobedient, just high energy from being inside all day.
I think this heat is wearing us all down. Too many days of 108 degrees starts to fry your brain.
But I went to class anyway.
I don’t know if it was the fact that I had zero balance tonight. It might have been the Parsva Bakasana (side crane) pose. It could have been tonight’s mantra of, “Breathe in love, breathe out gratitude.” It was quite possibly the superhuman freak practicing on the mat next to me.
Maybe it was all of it. Maybe none of it. But something brought the tears.
First it was a few tears. Then I got embarrassed that I was starting to cry. Which only made me cry harder.
The harder I cried the more frustrated I became, and that was it.
The tears flowed and I couldn’t stop them.
I wiped my face with my towel and hoped no one noticed.
Mr. Superhuman Freak next to me didn’t because he was too busy doing his one-armed hand stand.
Which made me cry harder.
I knelt down into child’s pose and tried to catch my breathe, but when I knew no one could see me the flood gates opened and I openly sobbed.
I was mortified. But I was unable to stop. I got up and rejoined the class but every bobble added to my frustration. Which kept the tears flowing. Most nights I’d love the challenge of an unfamiliar pose. Not tonight.
This program has been difficult. Every week I wonder if this is the week in which I hit my limit, and so far every week I’ve kept up, made progress, and felt good.
Tonight the lofty ceiling crashed down on my head.
In addition to our program classes (and the homework), we have to take an additional 18 classes. The program is very specific about which teachers we can take and what levels. I’ve been making my way through the lower level classes but I’ve been putting off taking the advanced classes taught by my program instructor because, well, they’re fucking hard. I didn’t want to get in there and not be able to keep up. I didn’t want her to judge me.
I do enough of that on my own, thank you very much.
I’ve been struggling with a couple of injuries, which make this that much harder on my body. And my psyche.
Two weeks ago I jammed my back and I’m only starting to get relief from that now. And it was my fault. I was tired and started to fall out of a shoulder stand. Instead of going with it, I jerked my legs (and my back) back up and completely twisted it.
On top of that I’ve been fighting Piriformis Syndrome, which is is a fancy way of saying I overworked my piriformis muscle on the right side and it’s now screwing with my sciatic nerve. My ass is numb, and I have tingly shooting pains down my thighs. I’ve been going to a chiropractor to get straightened out but it isn’t anything that’ll be fixed overnight.
When class was over tonight I faced the wall, rolled up my mat and tried to get the hell out of there while it was still dark in the room.
As I slunk out my teacher came over to sign my form and asked me how I was doing.
I burst into fresh tears.
I told her I wasn’t sure why I was crying and was probably tired, and she tried to soothe me, assuring me this is all normal.
Some of the other students from the program chimed in that her classes were brutally hard, it isn’t just me. My teacher even assured me that I’m doing fine. I’m doing a great job, and I’m where I should be.
Which made me cry harder.
She even confided that she took a class last week and spent the entire time in tears, that it happens more often than you might think.
Yoga brings up your shit whether you’re ready for it or not. Tonight I wasn’t ready. All of insecurities, all of the stress of the program and the physical toll it’s taking on my body bubbled to the surface and overflowed tonight.
It’s not a particularly Western thing to do, but in yoga they teach us to stay in the moment and let go of any expectations. Whatever is happening is meant to happen. Control freak that I am, letting shit happen is the hardest thing for me to do.
So this is a training weekend. I have tomorrow to try to clear my head because I really do want to enter class on Saturday morning with a clean slate. I want to acknowledge this happened but I want to put it behind me and move forward.
I hope I can do it.
Wow. It sounds like you had an amazing, if upsetting, experience. You’ve taken a lot on. Be gentle with yourself. Focus on one thing at a time.
And if you break down again this weekend, go with it. I’ll be sending you good thoughts. xo
I actually had a good weekend after that. And what was surprising was, it was a weekend about inversions—my nemesis. But I actually got upside down on my own and got a whole new perspective on life! xo
Don’t be hard on yourself! I’ve been meaning to comment on your last few posts…trying something difficult and new is trying on your body, your mind AND your soul. Be patient with the emotions and yourself.
Elizabeth recently posted..Sunshine
I’m so relieved to hear that I’m not the only one who has experienced this. When I’m having one of those days, someone showing motherly concern, ie, asking me how I’m doing, is enough to send me into hiccuping paroxysms of tears. I’m always surprised to find how much of my grief is caused by comparisons–comparing myself to everyone and anyone that seems to be doing life better than me. I even manage to beat myself up for not being as good at things as I was at some former point in my life. Can you imagine? Making yourself feel bad for not being as good as you? Ahh, the neuroses of the terminal over-achiever.
Thanks for this post.
I am THE WORST at comparing myself to others. I try not to do in yoga because I’m so competitive in every other area of my life, but that’s just my personality. I was pleased, though, when I went back to that class the next week and saw that the same super-freak was tired and spending a lot of time in child’s pose! I guess we all have our days.
I figure a class in which I DON’T cry is a really good class. It really sucks at the time but it’s so good to let all that stuff out. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that though. I’ve been there more times than I care to remember.
It’s fascinating to me how common this is. When I was in training last weekend there were a few people who just stopped and sobbed throughout the day. It seems like the more I practice, the more I cry. It’s not always a huge sob fest, but I definitely get more emotional. I hope I can work out whatever this is.