I was talking with my son’s teacher the other day, and she told me that if you ask a group of preschoolers if it’s okay to feel angry, they will answer, “No.” This is heartbreaking. It indicates to me that by preschool age we seem to have already received the message that there are “good” feelings and there are “bad” feelings. And these “bad” feelings (which we all naturally experience) are not only unfavorable, but are “not okay.” In other words, they are disallowed.
By age 3 and 4 we have learned somewhere, somehow that part of what is so very human is invalid, wrong, and shameful. And so the swallowing, denying, disconnecting from and distrusting of ourselves begins, or has already begun.
So, I’m told the teachers at his preschool go on to explain (in so many words) that it is okay to feel angry, and that everyone gets angry sometimes. What is judged as “okay” or “not okay” is what you do with that feeling. In other words, the action it inspires.
Enter the pause…
The pause you and I, many years post-preschool, are aiming to put into practice more often. The pause which allows us to notice, to see the situation clearly, to read and assess ourselves objectively, and then to make a conscious choice. The pause in which old patterns are interrupted, outdated stories are challenged, and reactivity concedes to mindfulness. The pause which invites us to choose openness when we want to contract.
It often requires courage and strength to hover in the discomfort of this pause. In your yoga practice I invite you to practice the pause, the hovering, and playing with contraction and expansion. And guess what — contracting is okay. Expanding is also okay. We practice doing both, finding comfort in both, and maybe even a sense of fluidity between the two so that the muscle of conscious choice is strong. In such a practice, we begin to develop awareness of what we’re doing when we’re doing it and why we’re doing it.
“May we live like the lotus at home in muddy water.” — Buddha
You can begin right here and now. Close your eyes and turn your attention inward. Notice and welcome all of yourself — the light and dark — to have a seat at the table. Because yoga (the yoga I subscribe to anyway) is not about rising above humanness, but rather integrating all of it into the experience of this life, navigating through it, and inevitably learning, remembering, and giving something along the way. Light cannot exist without dark, and we all contain both. To deny any part is to deny all of life.
Place your attention on your breath, and allow your inhales and exhales elongate. Hover at the bottom of the exhale in that space right before the next inhale. In that moment of stillness and pause lies choice, new life, and infinite opportunity.
Krystal Barschig 