Nothing is Happening
My fingertips started to tingle long after my legs had gone numb. My left shoulder had gradually reached a point of hunching forward. My left arm was still extended up in the air with what little energy I had left as my hand dangled loosely at my wrist. My gaze dropped down to the floor. My legs struggled to keep my body up with the least amount of effort they could possibly exert.
I was approaching what seemed like my 15th minute in Trikonasana. I was at Level Two in the Catskills last September. I had started out strong, but as time passed, my power and inspiration dwindled as my frustration began to rise at a rapid rate.
This wasn't just any old Trikonasana. It was the longest pose of my life to date. Thoughts were flying through my head as I became more and more disconnected to my physical body.
Why did I choose to come here? Why am I putting myself through this...again? What is Baron possibly thinking? This is crazy. Did he forget about us? How many days do I have left here? 1,2,3,4. Ok. I he definitely forgot about us. Is he even still in the room?I was getting impatient to say the least, and my body language most certainly showed it. I had given up completely - in the way that I usually did in practice and in life. I didn't get out of the pose, or leave the room or decide I was done with Level Two. I just stayed right where I was, in serious suffering, and waited for the moment to be over. I definitely wouldn't suggest this strategy to anyone as I was now approaching what seemed like my 30th minute in Trikonasana. Then all of a sudden, I heard Baron's voice booming through the room: So he hasn't forgotten about us. "Some of you are completely checked out" Uh oh, is he talking to me? "Nothing is happening. Wake up, JENN - nothing is happening." Oh no. He's definitely talking to me. He was right. I was checked out. Nothing was happening in the pose or in my practice because I was approaching that very moment from a place of NO. I was there. But I wasn't. The moment was passing me by as I froze, resigned from the world around me and waiting for a moment of relief. This showed up not only in my practice, but in so many areas of my life. I was viewing life not as a journey and a gift, but as something I needed to get through. Each moment was consumed by needing to get to the next and as a result nothing was happening. I was missing everything. All of a sudden I got a surge of energy. My fingertips came to life. My feet grounded down. My eyes shifted from the floor to the ceiling and my chest opened up as my shoulders drew back. Breath filled my body and while the pose was still just as challenging, my resistance to it was gone. All of a sudden I could be in the pose without needed to resign, withdraw, and hide. I could feel what I needed to feel and stand powerfully in my belief that I was strong enough to endure this moment, and others like it that would surely come my way in the future. In reality, he could have been talking to one of the many Jenn's in our Level Two, but at that moment, it didn't matter. I was sure he was speaking directly to me and if he wasn't, it was still exactly what I needed to hear. So thank you Baron for the wake up call, whether you knew you were giving it or not. In that moment I realized the pose wasn't there for me hold on, tense up and count down the breaths until I was out of it. It was there to be experienced. To teach me a lesson. The same goes for life - especially when it gets tough. It's not here for me to race through, check out and wait for my time to be over. It's here to be experienced and to help me grow.