Why Don’t You Just Do It?
Happy Taurus sun cycle! And also, congratu-fucking-lations to each and every single one of us for surviving the Mercury retrograde cycle so far. Seriously, we all deserve a fucking medal just for getting out of bed today.
[I’m off from my restaurant job, and I had fully planned on going into the club and dancing tonight. I got back from a doggy playdate with some friends just before 7 and thought to myself, “Okay, you need to start getting ready soon,” - and then I laid down on my living room rug next to my dog and didn’t move for nearly 45 minutes. I kept telling myself that I needed to get up and get ready and it kept not happening. The floor was just so comfortable. I wasn’t even really tired; more, I was mentally exhausted, and the thought of getting up, putting makeup on, walking into the club, and smiling and hustling all night made me feel sick.]
I went to a noon Flow class at one of my favorite studios today. The studio itself is two years old and is a boutique-y, mom-and-pop little joint that’s way south of where I live. I only go there about once a month – partly because it’s a hike, and partly because it’s a little expensive (thank god for ClassPass) – but every time I do, it gives me exactly what I need. The classes are artfully sequenced, the studio is beautiful, and the teachers have never made me feel less than loved and welcomed.
I’ve been going to the studio on and off since it opened two years ago because one of my favorite teachers (I’ll call her Mama) opened it with her husband. Shortly before that, when I was doing my teacher training, I’d found her at another local studio and immediately fell in love with her. She’s charismatic and loving, and her classes are dynamic and challenging. She’s one of those people who could make you believe in unicorns, who seems to walk around with glitter trailing from her fingertips, but she’s also so genuine and down-to-earth. Shortly after I attended my first class with her, she stopped teaching to prepare for the opening of her and her husband’s new studio. I waited excitedly for the studio’s opening so I could start going to her classes again. Her classes are the kind where you lay in savasana and you can feel the love of the universe raining down on you almost as if it were physical rain. (Is that too cheesy and hokey? Too bad, I don’t care.)
Mama and Papa’s studio is the kind of place that you walk into and it feels like walking into church – in a good way. You unroll your matt and you sit down on it and you feel immediately safe and secure, nurtured and welcomed by something bigger than yourself, as though you could collapse on your mat in a complete state of surrender and vulnerability and it would be okay.
Mama’s husband (we’ll call him Papa, for simplicity’s sake) is also a yoga teacher (and a Thai masseuse to boot!) co-opened the studio with her and also teaches there. I think the first time I went to one of his classes it was an accident – he was subbing one of Mama’s classes and I hadn’t realized it. It was SO good. Where Mama’s classes are loud and in-your-face about awareness, Papa’s are subtle. She commands a room, but he manages to look at every single person in the room and make him/her feel understood, loved, and appreciated. (I guess it doesn’t hurt that he’s really, really attractive…) As my own practice has deepened and become more nuanced and subtle, I’ve come to appreciate his classes more.
Anyway. So I went to one of his classes at noon today. It was crowded, but I found myself a nice little corner spot where I only had neighbors on one side and could use the wall to support my fledgling handstand. I’ve been running and doing body weight exercises a lot lately (because as a stripper, it’s more important now than ever that I look good naked) so my hips and hamstrings exist in a constant state of tightness.
He walked in, thanked us for being there, pulled out a white board from some hidden spot, and turned it to face the room. Without any other kind of preface, he said, “These are a couple of the things that have been on my mind.
“The first is the things that I should do that I don’t do. Things like practicing yoga, things that we dread and dread and dread and put off – like doing taxes – until eventually we buckle down and get started and realize, that wasn’t so bad. And why do we do that? We all do that. Whether it’s an artistic pursuit or some task we have to accomplish or – or learning the guitar, I don’t know. We psych ourselves out and we put it off and put it off and finally, when we start it, we realize it really wasn’t that big of a deal. So what is your one thing? What is the thing that you keep postponing because you’re afraid of failure or afraid of what could happen?
“The other two things are svadhyaya and santosha [these were written next to each other, with arrows pointing to one another]. Svadhyaya is the act of self-study. That’s why we’re here, that’s our only obligation in this life, is to self-study. You are enough, you are a gift unto yourself and the moment you realize that and begin to dive into self-realization is the moment that everything else will work itself out for you.
“Santosha means contentment. Santosha is the act of accepting the here and now, of going with the flow instead of against it and allowing yourself to be borne along by it. It’s allowing life to happen and choosing to be okay with it. And these are both interconnected and important, we can’t have one without properly having the other. So, with that, let’s come to a seated position with hands on the thighs, invite the eyes to close, and begin.”
I love his classes because they’re challenging, but not so challenging that you don’t have room to monitor your thought process and observe patterns/reactions that come up. I felt like a goddess. I felt powerful and sexy, drenched in sweat and capable and in tune with my body (except for that brief moment in pyramid pose when my left foot cramped up, but hey, that’s part of the practice, right?). At the end of the class, while we were in savasana, he read us a poem by Mary Oliver, “The Summer Day.” The final two lines, which are also painted on the wall of the lobby at Mama and Papa’s studio, are,
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?”
[Link to the full poem here, in case you’re interested. It’s a beautiful poem.]
Needless to say, I’ve been yogastoned all day.
For me, the “thing” that I avoid like the plague, more so than even my taxes (which I actually did early this year, hey-o!) is writing. I love writing. Or, rather, in the words of Dorothy Parker, “I hate writing, I love having written.” Writing forces me to be vulnerable and attentive to myself, and that’s so hard to do. Especially when I’m used to anesthetization via distraction – Snapchat, Netflix, work, etc..
But deeper than that is the fact that I’m afraid of failure. I’ve spent a good part of my adult life turning in circles, trying to figure out what to do with myself, and one of the only constants that I keep coming back to is writing. I’ve done the corporate 9-5 thing and hated it. Stripping and restaurant work are great, but they aren’t sustainable in the long-term (not for me, at least). Grad school isn’t off the table, but then there’s still the question of what to do after grad school. And I think and think and lie awake and think and take baths and think about what I’m good enough at to get paid for and could do for the rest of my life without wanting to kill myself and the only thing that comes is: writing.
Which means, if I want to have a stable writing career to fall back on when stripping and waiting tables don’t cut it anymore, that I need to start developing said career, like, right now.
And that’s terrifying to me. It’s terrifying to think that there is something that I could and should pour my whole heart and soul into and it might not be enough. So I keep not doing it, because you can’t fail if you don’t try. On the occasions when I force myself to sit down and write, I remember, “Hey, this isn’t that bad. It feels kind of good” and then I pull up snapchat or have to leave for work and the moment’s gone.
So my intention for today – and moving forward – is this: no more excuses. No more avoiding my writing like I avoid taxes. No more looking away, no more not taking the plunge. Just, this. Self-study and contentment. And, always, yoga.
Love,
yogistripperwitch
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