Day 25: For Once. For Ever.

Be only here and only now. Let your mind be completely present in this moment and only this moment. This moment is both passing and infinite. You are here forever. You were never here.

That's what they start saying when you've been stuck in Warrior 2 for what's probably been 10 whole minutes--has it only been 10 seconds? it feels like 10 years--and that's the point you start to want to kill them. Your thighs are burning! Your knee is shaking! Your toes are staging a mutiny! Surely you can NOT stand here all day to indulge their masochism.

But you do, because secretly, you can. It's a secret even to your own mind. Why do our bodies default to can't? Is it really survival? What kind of survival instinct says, "I'll bet we can't run anymore. Oh well, here comes that saber-toothed tiger"? In yoga, you use your conscious mind to argue with itself. And focusing on only the infinitesimal present keeps you from giving in to, "okay, it's been too long, if it's going to go on for much longer we're taking a break." There is no time. And there is no The Time Before. You have never chickened out. You have never fallen down. You have always existed here, just like this.

I didn't know that today would be the first day in my entire life that I would be able to get myself up into a headstand. In fact, at the beginning of class (when some teachers take requests), I specificlly asked for less-handstands-please-remember-my-arms-don't-straighten. With apologies to everyone there who loves handstands, like, more than a friend, of course. So at the end of class the teacher said it was time for a few minutes of whatever upside down move each of us prefer. I meandered into my crutch, "headstand attempt,"and then I heard, "I'm going to spot you okay? Which foot is your dominant foot?" And then my feet were over my head.


And there I was. With a spot, against the wall, but I was in a headstand. And that was literally all it took. After I came down to rest my neck for a second I got right back up into another one, all by myself. Just like that. For me, being physically put into the pose made my brain turn the Can't off forever. In that instant that I decided, what the heck, I'll try this thing again, I created every moment in which exists every headstand I'll ever do for the rest of my life.

The glee of being there, and having done it by myself, literally yanked my inner child right to the surface. It was all I could do to stop myself from yelling, "hey! Teacher! Lookit! I did it!" But I think when she glanced over she could tell by the grin on my face. Because I know I'm a little biased here, but I'm pretty sure it was the most fantastic headstand ever achieved by a human being ever.

It feels like a dumb cliche to say that I feel like a different person, but as of 6:15 today I am A Person Who Can Do A Headstand. And prior to that I was not. It's small in the grand scheme of things, but how many times in our lives do we get those on/off moments, especially with physical milestones? I've been working out for years, and pushing myself and my training, and I've had those rushes of endorphins when you thought you were spent but found an extra ounce to propel you forward even faster, but they were nothing like this. It was not like spending yourself out. I feel like most of the truly physically-altering moments come when we're so young: today I am A Person Who Talks. Today I am A Person Who Walks. Today the body I've always lived in is different than it ever was before.

But this! This is what I hoped to accomplish with the 30-Day Yoga Challenge. This is the moment when the switch flips from Off to On. Because, really, take out the word "headstand," and substitute anything at all.

May all beings be happy and free. And at the moment when they need it, may there be someone near them to grab their legs and throw them over their head, so they can be transformed. 


Namaste.



Further misadventures at the 30-Day Yoga Challenge Page.


Image: Salvatore Vuono / FreeDigitalPhotos.net