Let’s start with this basic thesis statement. If you’re not onboard with this, then you may as well stop reading now because the rest of the post hinges on our agreement of this simple truth. Also gird your loins because I’m going to say a “bad” word.
Shit happens.
It just does. The Buddha believed it so deeply that Buddhism’s First Noble Truth is: “life is suffering.” It’s not the fourth truth or even the second. It’s the first.
Of course, the unexpected doesn’t have to be bad. In fact, for many of us — myself included — the unexpected good far outweighs the unexpected bad, especially when we reflect on the small things that make up our daily lives. Each day is a miracle of things going right: we catch the train, we make it safely home, we have food on the table and in our bellies. We have a home at all!
But what to do about the bad stuff?!
The title of this essay implies things going wrong of course. It’s why you clicked (thank you for that, by the way). So what do we do when things go awry?
One powerful technique I’ve learned from my therapist (shout out, Brian) is to simply remind yourself that you’re an adult who’s made it this far, so you can trust yourself to handle whatever arises.
But, for me at least, sometimes that’s not quite enough. I can recognize that I don’t have control, and I can even trust in Adult James’s ability to handle whatever life throws my way.
But it doesn’t always alleviate my anxiety.
Practice. Not Performance.
I took piano lessons for about seven years. And every time I practiced and still could not get it, I would get so mad! I would pound the keys and (I’m a little embarrassed to admit) literally slap myself in the face. I was pissed. I was practicing, so why couldn’t I do it!? Never mind that I had spent maybe fifteen minutes in actual concentrated practice time or that I hadn’t practiced at all for the entire week before and had waited until my next piano lesson was looming.
Yoga has actually had some of the same frustrations. I can’t effortlessly float into handstand. I can’t seem to land a completely-silent float back to Chaturanga. And I always thought of that “practice / not performance” mantra as a way of explaining those frustrations. Frustrations with my asana practice.
It’s only very recently that I’ve started to think of “practice” differently. What am I practicing for?
I am practicing for life.
Difficult things will arise. They are unavoidable. Sometimes I will succeed, but often I will fail. Pitifully. Terribly. Embarrassingly. I will fall directly flat on my face.
But I have practice with that! I have failed on the mat, and I’ve recognized that my failure is not a reflection on my personal value. My worth as a human being is not tied to my ability to stand on my hands. In the scheme of things, that skill is wildly unimportant.
Neither is this one shortcoming that important. It feels like a lot in the moment, but I have to remind myself that I’m no stranger to failing or to literally falling. And the more skills I build, the more ambitious my next goal will inevitably be. And I’ll succeed a lot. And I’ll fail a lot.
But I have practiced for it, and I am just fine. In fact, I’d say I’m doing pretty well.
So are you.
Nothing that appears in this blog or on this website is intended to treat or diagnose any disorder, physical or otherwise. Always consult a physician before beginning any exercise program.