Bring what you have

I recently had occasion to visit with a dear friend and her younger sister. I was fresh from a restorative therapeutic yoga teacher training, so yoga was much on our minds as we visited.

The younger sister, a woman in her twenties who lives in New York City, told me that she had found a yoga class that she loved, but that she had stopped going because she started to feel really angry during the classes, and that didn’t seem like the right way to be in a yoga class.

“Were you angry because your teacher hurt you or because something about the instruction felt bad to your body or to your feelings?” I asked.

“No,” said the sister, with certainty. “I loved the teacher and the class. I just felt so full of anger…and I feel like I can’t go back until I’m more peaceful inside.”

I smiled at her. What a lucky girl.

“Go back,” I said, with certainty. “You have found your teacher.”

She was confused. What was I talking about? How could that be? Anger doesn’t belong in yoga. We should feel all Zen and happy when we are on our mats…shouldn’t we?

I say, No. With a big smile and a peaceful, happy heart I say, No. What you should be when you are on your yoga mat is you.

If you are angry, be angry. You must keep your anger inside your own container—it’s not okay to direct angry words, for instance, at a fellow student or at your teacher. But inside of your own Self, if huge anger springs up during practice, throw your arms open to that anger and welcome it, wholeheartedly. That anger belongs to YOU and therefore, it is beautiful.

Yoga is the act of connection to all of you. Not just your breath, not just your body—and not just your Zen peaceful center. Yoga is about wholeness. Bring what you have. This is your practice. And if you find a teacher who triggers big floods of emotions in you--be they happy emotions or unhappy ones--then bless that connection and go back (so long as the unhappy feelings aren’t because the teacher has harmed you in some way).

I practiced many styles of yoga for many years with many different teachers before I found my yoga home. When I finally found the yogi who would become what I think of as my teacher and what became my preferred style of yoga, I hated it. This teacher is the kindest, brightest, most full-of-light person, but I was full of red hot anger in her classes. I hated that she didn’t demonstrate the poses—I felt abandoned, humiliated, angry. I hated the room. I hated everything. I was boiling with anger. But for some reason, I kept coming back. For the first time in my life all of my previously squelched, judged, and silenced anger had a place to be welcome. My feelings of anger were no longer sidelined and excluded from my experience.

It felt awful to be so angry and it felt sort of okay, at the same time—it was very confusing. I wasn’t sure what to do, but the simplest and truest thing I felt was a certainty that I should keep going back. Even though I was angry with her in the beginning, what I felt for my teacher was trust. I could recognize even through the blinding hatred, that this was a safe and good place to be.

I don’t recall specifically what my teacher said or did to help me feel okay about being angry, but something about her teaching welcomed me, all of me, and I kept going back. I didn’t tell my Self I couldn’t or shouldn’t be angry. I thought angry thoughts. And when I felt shame over this anger, I welcomed the shame, too. And when I felt fear, I welcomed the fear. When I felt tired, I rested. When I felt weak, I laid down. For me, this self-care and self-acceptance was a radical new experience.

I went back, week after week after week to my teacher. Until one day, I noticed my anger wasn’t there anymore. It was like how, one day, you wake up in the springtime and it’s just warm again. You didn't try to stop winter (that's fruitless) and winter will come again (if you live long enough), but on that day, it's just warm again. And there you are. With the daffodils and the tulips feeling the sun instead of the cold. 

What I felt instead of anger was okayness. Having spent a lot of my life feeling that I did not deserve to be okay, my practice became welcoming my okayness, in the same way I had welcomed my anger. 

Eventually, after more and more practice, a new thing happened: on my yoga mat, during my yoga practice, with my teacher, I felt so much joy that I saw bright sparkling lights and I wept from the beauty of it all.

This is yoga. The angry part and also the bright sparkling joy part. Remember that you don’t do one to get to the other. You do whichever one is true for you today. This is your practice. Be fully present for your anger and you will be able to be fully present for your joy (and vice versa). Be where you are. Bring what you have. Notice your feelings and your body and your breath. Throw your arms open to your resentment, your guilt, your anger, and your joy. Give your feelings a home. Be truthful. Be kind. And you will wake up one day to find that you have become like a daffodil in the sun, more whole, more connected, more yoga.