Yoga and Security

Are there any guarantees in life? Can yoga guarantee us feelings of safety or security? What would being safe and secure and at home within my body and to have a secure sense of who I am feel like? These are the questions I asked myself in my yoga practice this week after I found myself come face to face with my fears both small and large. Today I write about security. This does not surprise me, especially with the recent news of my nephew being diagnosed with cancer, that I am questioning what is safety, what is security and what does it feel like or look like? Is it ever really attainable?

Lately I have been feeling secure about myself as a yogi, yoga teacher and studio owner. This feeling of self assurance is newer to me and to allow myself to acknowledge and feel “safe” about my own accomplishments is a huge step up the self growth ladder. It has taken years for me to deprogram my belief system that anything I have obtained from my own hard work could be lost in a moment. It has taken me a lifetime to believe that I am worthy and deserving of success. When I talk about this with students, I know I am not alone. Like many women, I am also a person who struggles with self judging and criticism; keenly aware of my areas where I could grow and improve. Through my 10 years of yoga practice, I have learned to see my self-imposed obstacles or “stuck” places as areas of fascination as opposed to faults.

Last week I was feeling safe with the certainty that my small yoga business was thriving and more importantly, providing authentic, satisfying, and meaningful yoga to its clients,when Dawn and I decided to go to Starbucks for a latte so that we could brainstorm our 10 days of Power Yoga classes. We don't usually go “outside the Samadhi building” for our creative process so this was highly unusual.

Anyways, at around 10:30am on a Thursday morning, I found myself content and well settled into an overstuffed dark green chair with my black notebook opened up in front of me. Dawn was sitting in an identical chair in front of me. Our lattes sat half empty on the small coffee table between us. The Starbucks was devoid of customers except for us and we were immersed in our planning session when I felt a strange but familiar feeling wash over me. The recognizable feeling showed up in my belly as a gnawing in my stomach lining and at my confidence. Suddenly my latte was battery acid inside of me. Inadequacy spread through my bones and a flush rose to my face. In that one instant, I was aware that my hair was unwashed and that there was white fur from my cat clinging to the cuffs of my black yoga pants. I felt dirty, tiny, enormous and insignificant all at the same time.

I am embarrassed to say who or what provoked such a strong response of inadequacy and shame in me but I would not be me if I kept it inside. As a yogi whose yoga practice is not only a physical practice but a spiritual practice, whose yoga is a way of life that contributes to me trusting that I can open and be loving and compassionate to myself and others, I believe that all of my experiences are opportunities for awareness. Yoga is an awareness practice. It teaches us how to react appropriately in each situation. We may not always react in the way that has the most grace but we keep trying, over and over again, until we don't have to try anymore. I am not quite there.

What caused this momentary (ok- I admit I was out of sorts for half a day) lapse into feeling small and inadequate and unsafe in my world. It was the unexpected appearance of the owner of a nearby yoga studio breezing into the tiny coffee shop with some of her friends. It doesn't sound like that big of a deal and it really isn't. She is simply another human being running a yoga business- just like me. She's got her strengths and weaknesses- just like me. I will assume she does her job well-just like me and I know that she appeals to a slightly different yoga client. There is no reason why we cannot operate nearby one another. We do operate near one another. Without any problems. So why did I feel inadequate? Why did I feel exposed and unsafe? Why was my security about my identity as a yoga teacher and business women temporarily altered?

The owner of the other studio never did look my way and I wasn't sure how I would react if she did. I don't want to suggest that there is anything deviant about the other yoga studio owner. She is a well deserving, hard working, successful yoga teacher. This is not about her. Being a business women, I fully understand that competition is part of the package and that it can and should be healthy. Nor do I think that it is desirable for any yoga studio to monopolize all the yoga. To feel safe and secure is to believe that “there is enough to go around.” I am content with my studio just the way it is right now. I am open to my yoga business evolving and growing but I am also of the belief system that where my business is in this moment is exactly where it needs to be.

We left the Starbucks about a ½ hour after her arrival. She was still there with her friends and it was weird that we never even acknowledged each other. When Dawn and I got out into the parking lot, I was the lion in the Wizard of Oz before he got his badge of courage but I am also going to be gentle on myself and will go out of my way to say “hi” to this person the next time the situation presents itself. I am thankful to report that once I removed myself from the discomfort of the “sighting,” I gained some clarity. When I brought up the scenario to my partner, he asked me why I did not feel secure about myself an who I am?

Security. I looked it up in the dictionary. It has a few different meanings and they all fascinate me and apply to my life in this moment. Who can claim that they have not felt insecure? Whether we feel insecure around our appearances, our relationships, our status, our jobs, our parenting, etc. Somewhere and at some time in each of our lives we have all questioned our own sense of being secure with what is. Yoga teacher, Michael Caroll (Yoganand) teaches that we all ultimately fear of our own death. In order to avoid thinking about our own death, we spend a great deal of time making ourselves important with our identities and accomplishments,etc. so that we can believe we are too busy or needed or important to die.

Security: to feel safety and assurance. To secure is to anchor or fix. To be secure with one's self is to be self assured. To secure something is to guarantee it.

With the recent news of my nephew facing the uncertain as he undergoes a ravishing yet lifesaving chemotherapy; my family and I have been forced to be with the truth that there are no guarantees in this life about anything. My nephew's prognosis is positive. His type of lymphoma is curable but the road to that cure will be most likely filled with pain. The Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh elegantly states in his Five Truths: There is no escaping pain, getting sick or growing old. There is no escaping separation from our loved ones. There is no escaping death. The only thing we can be sure of is change. Can I take comfort in these words?

I am learning through my yoga that when life is full of pain or loss or sorrow, our most challenging practice becomes baring that truth. We have to hold our own pain and the pain of others softly in our hearts, keeping our hearts open, positive, and loving.

In light of recent circumstances, it is no mystery to me now that I reacted the way I did to the situation at Starbucks. For three weeks I have been unknowingly questioning security at the deepest level. It is terrifying to think that someone I love so dearly cannot escape pain or loss. I have been aware of my shattered security somewhere deep inside of me yet each day is a new day and I keep myself busy, help out my sister in any way I can and try not to think about that which I cannot control. As a coping strategy, this worked for a while but that which we hold down will eventually reveal itself and usually in some unexpected way. There is a yoga saying that goes something like this, “If the universe is trying to get your attention, at first it will just tug at your arm. Next it will tug at your legs. If you don't acknowledge the universe's calling out to you, eventually it will throw you off the bus.”

At Starbucks, the universe tugged at my arm. I was being called to examine my security with my self and with this precious world. To examine the truth about safety and security and to find my own solace, I turned to my yoga practice. I asked myself what is it that I need to feel secure in my body. I have been called to define my own definition of security. I have decided that to feel secure is to feel at home. To be at home means to feel safe and to be in a community that cares. In other words, to be secure is to feel safe in my surroundings and to be loved.

In each “asana” or pose I practiced this week, I asked myself, “What is safety and What is security?” As I intuitively explored pose after pose, I observed how I was drawn to forward folds. This comes as no surprise as forward folds have an emotional quality of feeling safe and cared for. In“paschimottanasana” or seated forward fold, I would tell myself that “I am safe.” and “ I am sound.” In “bahda konasana” or bound angle, I made the discovery that softness deserves a space inside my existence alongside my strength.

I was also drawn to balancing poses, both the standing balance poses such as Warrior 3 and the arm balance poses such as Handstand. My need for these poses did surprise me, because these are poses where I could ultimately falter or fall out of, but when I let myself really stay in each balance pose, I began to understand why I sought them out. Underneath the vulnerability, the hesitation and the doubt of mastering the pose, I observed each sensation, let my truth be absorbed into each inhale and exhale, and when I finally allowed that to happen, I felt strong and steady. As I anchored my hands or my feet to the mat, I felt that I could handle anything that life will present to me.

“I can handle anything that life will present to me.” Those are the words I needed to hear.