Going beyond the Pose

I’ll share with you how one four-letter word led to my undoing. This was not an undoing of my out-of-control, raging ego, but it was the excavation of the human condition as I knew it to be to uncover who I really am. This new awareness led to the unveiling of my pristine soul that gave me the courage to seek out the truth, choose emotional integrity, and honor my true self. That four-letter word is yoga. “The external teacher offers only the suggestion, which arouses the internal teacher.” Here, celebrated spiritual leader and monk Swami Vivekananda speaks to direct experience. Whether I am practicing the physical movement in yoga, in search of understanding a particular concept, or examining my own choices and actions, I know that because of the nature of ego, I continually orient my internal compass, finding insight and truth from the internal, eternal source of my soul. Years ago, I wasn’t as prepared for life’s curves and twists, literally and figuratively. I know this because in looking back, I see the times where I was inflexible or constricted, played the blame game, sat in the victim’s chair, full of disappointment and despair, and used a very different four-letter word. Regret is a waste of precious time. Isn’t it really just our thoughts in the form of judgment meant to punish ourselves? I am the first one to admit that those highly charged, reactive (and many times over-reactive) moments weren’t pretty at all, definitely not yoga in any form. However, they turned out to be pivotal lessons that would change the trajectory of my life and contribute to my spiritual journey. So how do we stop the cycle? How do we brave the truth and accept what might come as a result of recognizing our authentic self? In writing this book, I knew I’d have to accept the fallout that would come from those who might reject, condemn, and object. But those who would criticize without any true understanding of yoga aren’t my audience anyway. My purpose for writing this book is to express my love and gratitude for the deeper teachings of the ancient wisdom of yoga and teach those who also want to expand their own self-awareness. The joy of writing this book has come from my internal need, excitement, and passion to share my experience of yoga. When I speak of yoga, I mean going beyond the pose—hence the title of the book—to a deeper understanding of a life philosophy. When the idea for this book came to me, my intention was to write, motivated by love and truth. I love to write. I always have. So my words are written with love. I ask for divine guidance in communicating my message as the ego easily wants to ask, “What makes you the authority?” The truth is that I fell in love with yoga. I pursued my training in all its disciplines with fervor. I may not be the best or most experienced instructor, but I teach from a place of love. I may not be a scholar about the subjects I write, but the experiences I share are told with integrity. I share experiences of searching for my true self and a deeper meaning for my life in a way that proves to inspire my readers to investigate, explore, excavate, and go beyond the pose and see how yoga can also be a compass for them to create a fulfilling life of perfect health in all areas. My book is not meant to incite a religious debate, although I suspect some may find certain topics controversial. In writing this book, I was also searching for my expression of transformation—how yoga, the science of yoga, as the title states—beyond the pose, deeply resonated within me. It was instantly familiar. It validated long-suppressed views that felt comfortable in my heart. It brought a fresh breath of excitement and peace for possibilities for a fulfilled life. It wasn’t so much discovering my truth as it was this sensation of remembering it, as if I cracked a shell around me and felt safe and supported, despite the risk. I also felt vulnerable, alone, and lost while I volleyed between what I thought my reality to be and the truth as I now saw it. As Buddha said, “It is our destiny as human beings to make this journey ourselves.” There is no deliberate doctrine or mandate here, but a slight nudge, a gentle suggestion to look in the mirror for yourself, at yourself, within yourself. These days, using yoga to guide me toward acceptance, letting go, healing, and moving on—both on and off the mat—and now, when possible, I respectfully opt out of potentially volatile conversations, or avoid situations altogether that may not honor me, not the ego me, but God’s version of me. On the mat, when doing my yoga class, I use my body as an internal compass and follow that, not comparing myself to others or worrying whether they are doing the same. In this way, I avoid injury and self-criticism and really enjoy how my body feels during and after a yoga class like this. I do admit that I still glance over to admire those students who effortlessly make their way into a full expression of headstand. And I fondly remember, prior to my back surgery, how I was unable to attempt bakasana or crow pose. Instead, I would challenge myself by encouraging and directing my fellow classmate successfully into the pose. In a dynamic exchange of giving and receiving, we both experienced the reward of having conquered the pose. For me, I felt elated to see my friend accomplish the feat, while my confidence grew as an effective yoga instructor. For Sara, strength, balance, flexibility, and her own sense of confidence emerged. For me, this experience saw blurred lines between teacher and student as I learned as much as I taught that day. Yoga teaches us that flexibility, endurance, and strength come with detachment from the outcome, whether it’s trying to achieve a particular asana in class or navigating daily life. The physical benefits of yoga go way beyond the pose. I have personally felt stronger, leaner, and more flexible. I am also more centered, leaner in my material desires, and more flexible in my attitudes.