I haven’t taught a yoga class in over a year, and I’m so happy about that. Now I’m a student of yoga again, not the teacher. Yoga can just be yoga.
This has given me a whole new perspective on my practice and my relationship with yoga, which I’ve accepted as changing all the time: I love it, I loathe it, I crave it, I starve it, then I love it again. But in the end, I never stray far from yoga because it’s always in my life, in some form.
The main difference for me, between yoga and writing, say, (two things I love and made a career out of at some point or another) is that I can go much longer without a little yoga than I can without a little writing. I use yoga more as a therapy now, whereas writing is something much more “complete” for me – all encompassing. But it took me a long time to figure out the difference.
But still, there are days when writing really pisses me off and I’m frustrated with it. When the words won’t gel and ideas don’t flow and I make mistakes. But for the most part, I’m head over heels for this compulsion I have to keep my hands and mind busy all the time. Most days, I’m a happy being a writer.
But on the days when I’m not (and you’re not, and he’s not, and she’s not, and we all just want to vomit at the idea of writing another word), try not too panic too much. It’s could just be part of the process where you get to be the student again; where you get to let yourself be spoken to for a change, rather than trying to be the one to speak.
-sandy.
