Perpetual Beginner

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”                                                                                                                  - Confucius

I am not an expert on anything. I never was and never will be. Every time I get excited to learn something, I immerse myself in it for a few weeks. Then the lizard brain kicks in and I sabotage my own growth. When it is time to raise the bar up a notch, motivation dips. When the process gets harder, the lazy gene kicks in, that too in overdrive. Intentions that were set initially to stick it through the obstacles are all but forgotten. Impatience and discouragement dominates. I give up. Temporarily, sort of.

What was meant to be a short break turns out into a long sabbatical. Then when the guilt gnaws away at my insides and finally engulfs me whole, I hop on the wagon, again. Back to where I started. I have lost the momentum and most of what I have learned. But I am relentless, momentarily. And so the cycle begins. And I stay a perpetual beginner. For life. I think I like staying a beginner, although I wouldn’t want to acknowledge it (which I just did) - perils of pouring down thoughts to words, I guess.

I do love the idea of being an expert, no doubt. But without having to put in the 10,000 hours. Therein lies the rub. Also, there is a price for being labeled an expert - responsibility. Which isn’t quite my cup of tea either. So naturally, the beginner’s mindset is very appealing. At first, I am all excited and enthusiastic about what I am learning. Hopeful about the possibilities and potential, both of which are quite inflated and unrealistic, something that the eager mind fails to recognize. The challenges aren’t immediate. They seem farther down the road and therefore, not very threatening. Being a beginner gets my foot in the door without drawing undue attention. Even though thoughts and actions are half baked, I get away with it. And the best part... I can cry for help.

I think the level of confidence is directly proportional to the level of effort. With my level of effort, confidence eludes me, no surprise there. So I aspire to complacency which is always out of reach. Some of my pursuits include yoga, reading, writing, swimming, cooking, coding, running and meditation. Pursuits for which I find it hard to find my edge and move onto the next level (sounds like words right out of a yoga class). Instead I settle and re-settle, time and again, comfortably in the cozy beginner’s seat. Here is a summary of what my ride looks like on each of these pursuits...

I started learning yoga about 17 years ago. In terms of my asana-bility, I am still oscillating between a beginner and an advanced beginner. I love to practice. I miss it if I don’t get on the mat for days at a stretch. But my ‘all or nothing approach’ in the way I practice, does more harm than I realize. If only the number of hours spent watching yoga videos counts as practice hours, I would have passed the 500-hour training level. Easy. Learning by osmosis isn’t quite working the way I want it to. As far as practicing the rest of Patanjali’s teachings, let’s just put it this way - it is voluntary ignorance.

I started meditating at the same time I started learning yoga. I still don’t go past the 5 to 10 minute mark on most days I meditate, which isn’t very many. But just like how I love the idea of drinking wine but my tolerance of it is so low that I drink it from a shot glass, I love, love the idea of sitting still and doing nothing but paying attention to my breath. To me, that’s the ultimate non-activity for someone who loves to do nothing. I have Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Wherever You Go, There You Are: Mindfulness Meditation in Everyday Life at my bedside table hoping that if it is in my line of vision often, I would somehow find time for meditation. It doesn’t work that way. Once in awhile I do get inspired... when I catch a glimpse of it on my way out during the morning rush. A perfect time to sit still, I suppose. Now if only I could move back the clock.

Reading - my only claim to having a hobby. I have been reading voraciously since I was 12, but my comprehension, memory and vocabulary are all sub-par. I have ploughed through classics and other literary gems that were way beyond my brain’s processing power. So I have a long ‘Must-Re Read’ list along with my ‘Must-Read’ list. There is more to reading than just the literal understanding of words. It requires the ability to comprehend, analyze, assimilate and articulate the effect of the book on you. Nil, nil, nil and nil.

If someone asks me now what I want to be when I grow up, I would say I want to be a writer. I dream of being a writer. I know the research would kill me, but I dream all the same. Of being able to have intelligent thoughts, brilliant imagination and a magical way with words - a la Dickens, Tolstoy, Thoreau, Buck, Coelho, Michener, Lamott and all those wonderful authors whose names escapes me this minute or whose works I don’t know of, yet. I started writing when I was in college. Don’t have much to show for. This blog is a very recent attempt. Not exactly one for the portfolio - more as a grist-mill for my jumbled thoughts.

I have been learning to swim for the past couple of years, on and off. Yes, on and off is the recurrent theme here. I still panic when my feet barely touches the pool floor and my teacher isn’t beside me for moral support or when the lifeguard isn’t watching me like a hawk. Relaxing and trusting the body’s buoyancy is not an option. There is no place in my head for physics and logic when it is all muddled with fear. Again, no amount of watching YouTube videos on swimming techniques will equal actually practicing the breaststroke, in water.

I learnt to cook 15 years ago. I cook for my family. That is not to say that I cook well. Except for some occasional bursts of inspiration that give surprisingly delicious results, I stick to the basic tried and true (by me) recipes drawing general disapproval from my kids. My goal is to provide healthy, nourishing food. Taste is only a matter of... well, taste. I browse the blog world for inspiration - as I do for most things. But if the count of ingredients exceeds 5, I find it very off-putting. I don’t think those recipes are intended for beginners like me.

I acquired a degree in computers. Unfortunately the degree didn’t translate to valuable knowledge. It was more of a ‘how to survive mind numbing environments’ which after that, wasn’t really necessary or applicable. Currently, I have a job coding. The degree wasn’t worthless after all. I survive. Nothing to write home about.

I took up running a couple of years ago. That’s a long time to allow oneself to move past the 5k level. But no, I have been slipping and sliding all over the place. I did change my intentions this past year. Why exactly do I run? Is it to model after Caballo Blanco or is it just so I get moving, fast. Since I have answered my question as to why I run, I have scaled back my efforts (which I never hesitate to do) in the name of sustainability. Yes, that’s it, slow and steady. I have got the ‘slow’ part down pat. It’s in my nature. The ‘steady’ part isn’t as easy - it is not in my nature.

The beginner's world is a very comfortable space to dawdle in - where expectations are low, ignorance is tolerated, mistakes are easily forgiven, excuses for incompetence are readily available, attention to detail is not required and where moderate effort is applauded and even recommended. I like that place. I don’t think I can deny it any longer - I belong to the elementary studentdom in life. That too a backbencher. Oh well. It is what it is. I have to take comfort in the fact that I am trying - on and off.

Yoga Journey

You are bound to hear about its benefits more commonly these days. It’s so popular that you will encounter a dozen or more variations of it wherever you go. You will find no dearth of resources, articles and teachers. Someone you know or maybe a friend, or a friend of a friend or you yourself are a huge proponent of it (I know I am). It originated centuries ago and is still relevant in today’s world. If you haven't guessed it already, I am talking about yoga. The panacea, not just as a  form of exercise but as a philosophy of life, rings true to many. In essence, it is a spiritual practice of being, not doing. Yeah right, easier said than done!

Like most practices, people come to yoga to be cured of some malady, be it physical, mental or emotional. And so did I. To be rid of debilitating sciatic pain from an accident. When allopathy and physiotherapy didn’t help, my boss at that time suggested I learn yoga as he believed that it helped him with his lower back ache. So I decided to give it a try. My guru was a wonderful teacher - thorough and exacting with a good sense of humour. He taught hatha yoga and introduced me to Patanjali’s eight limbs of yoga. His focus was mainly on three of those - pranayama, asana and meditation. His class format seemed very natural and is something I follow to this day in my practice. But at that time, I viewed yoga as something that would teach me physical prowess and bestow sage-like demeanour. From all the testimonials I heard from yoga practitioners around me, though few and far between, it seemed to be something magical. If I practice it every day, I deduced, then I would see results that would amaze me and those around me. Nothing of that sort happened. First of all because I didn’t practice it every day. Second of all, I realized quickly that it is not a magic wand that turns people into beautiful, graceful creatures with sparkling eyes who walk around with a halo over their head. Not exactly. I understood that it is a hard practice that takes a lot of effort and time, a lifetime, in fact.

In a few months of having started my yoga lessons, I had to leave India. I continued my home practice on and off following the diligent notes I had taken during my guru’s instructions. I wanted to resume learning but didn’t find any teachers for a few years. I would manage to attend a class or two once in a rare while but didn’t grow much in my practice. And then….it’s popularity surged and there were yoga studios cropping up everywhere. My practice was sporadic to say the least, but my inspiration grew and I started seeking out resources online, attending classes and reading books on yoga philosophy. Like a sponge I soaked in anything and everything about asanas. When some of the discourses on yoga philosophy felt esoteric and beyond my understanding, I ignored it. When a few experts encouraged religious chanting, I avoided it. Instead, I kept it at the physical level - annamaya kosa (the physical sheath), the first layer in the many layers/sheaths of yoga practice. I decided that when I am ready to delve deeper into the spiritual and philosophical part of the practice, I would know.

And so my practice moved on, albeit in fits and bouts. I started exploring the different styles of yoga to see which would suit me best. Of the three styles I tried - Iyengar, Vinyasa and Power, I liked the vinyasa style the best as it seemed to teach grace in movement, like dance. Power Yoga classes were a good workout and though I came out of those sessions feeling lighter (and sometimes lightheaded), I found it hard to get to the meditative aspect of the practice. Iyengar style is demanding and I think important, if you want to understand proper alignment in asana practice.

As time went on and I had made it a regular practice, I unwittingly, moved onto the next phase - where, whenever I found myself frazzled and my mind a muddle of incongruent, disjointed thoughts, a palpable feeling that I should get on my yoga mat would arise until I could no longer ignore it. Time and place didn’t matter, bare floors didn’t matter. It was wonderful to be able to feel the need to get moving when, I remember, not so long ago, how badly I was prone to lethargy. I grabbed the opportunity and acted on it consistently enough that now if I miss a day or more of getting on the mat I feel anxious to get back on it again.

There was a lot that I gained from yoga - physically, emotionally and spiritually. To list a few ( and I will try not to sound like a quack with a cure-all salve) :  I am cured of sciatica; have a better immune system; learnt the mindful approach to eating and motivation to be physically active - both of these, by the way, contributed to losing a few unhealthy pounds; more aware of emotions; understand that behaviour patterns can be learnt and unlearnt (through samskara); an overall sense of well being, not to mention that I am a better person to be around. None of these happened overnight and neither are they a given for the rest of my life. This is where I find myself now. It’s a much better place than I have ever been in, in all these years of my life. And I attribute all of these to my practice.

That is not to say that I am an expert now and that I breeze through practice with little effort and fewer challenges. Just the opposite, in fact. There is so much more to learn and to my surprise, instead of evading them, I have (uncharacteristically) ploughed through them. Here are a few challenges that I have encountered along the way......

• Getting on the mat/newspaper/bare floor..whatever :

One of my favorite yoga teachers always started the practice with intention. She would give an anecdote, wonder what its message was and engage us to ponder. Nothing definite or profound, just an observation and an invitation to keep an open mind. It’s a beautiful way to start the practice. It helps me to disengage myself to the expectation of how I should look in an asana and instead let the energy flow. And when I find myself at times setting a more egotistical intention of holding a stable headstand a little longer than usual, I have learnt to accept that as well.

• On the mat:

Until I started a regular practice, I was blissfully ignorant of the many struggles I would face on the mat. I found out that it is always easier to keep my focus when I am learning a new asana or a routine or when I am following a teacher’s instruction. But once I get comfortable enough and get the routine/asana down pat, my practice switches to auto-pilot and my mind embarks on a sojourn. It ricochets effortlessly from one thought to another and before I know it the innocuous ‘what do I pack for my my kids’ lunch?’ ends up in me ruminating over where and how to travel next for the long weekend that is months away. So by the end of it when I am ready to sit for meditation, it feels like my mind matter has gone through a hadron collider, or so it feels:-) Essentially, the time that I am supposed to consciously and mindfully move to better prepare for meditation never happened. But like in any practice, there are good days and bad days. There are days when I wonder when exactly I had relinquished control to my monkey brain and then there are days when I can observe these random thoughts, and let it go. The key is to show up on the mat every day and be open minded about what you might find out about yourself.

• On the mat in a class:

It is such a hard habit to beat - the drive to do better than the person next to you in a yoga class.  I am aware that I push myself harder and lose my intention of the practice. So to avoid being caught in the game of one-upmanship, I try to cheat and pick an obscure corner for my mat. But if the room has mirrored walls, then forget it, the battle is on. If it is not the teacher, then it’s the voice in your head that constantly reminds you not to compare yourself to those around you and thereby inevitably either judging yourself or others. It is another aspect of my practice that is a work in (snail-paced) progress. On days when I walk out of class with wobbly legs I know I pushed myself harder to satisfy my ego :-)

• Off the mat (onto the world)

Learning a new skill without a steady guidance of a guru is daunting, but instead of being engulfed in a feeling of trepidation and an overwhelming sense of all that I am yet to learn, I embrace this opportunity and interest to dig deeper and look forward with excitement to the lessons I learn every day on my mat - both implicit and explicit. Whatever I have absorbed, spills over onto my daily interactions and attitude. It might be minuscule and barely noticeable a lot of times, but the shift in my inner compass is much more discernible.

• Meditation

It used to be excruciating to sit still even for a couple of minutes. I would imagine the clock ticking and would always find myself counting the seconds with my breath. This is an area of my practice that I find most wanting and the one aspect of my practice that is compromised when I am rushed for time. I maybe able to sit still longer now and be able to go into it without expectations. But there is so much more to learn and the best part is that it can all be done by sitting still and breathing :-)

You will find a million resources on pranayama, asana and meditation and other disciplines of yoga. This post’s intent is not to impart instructions nor is it to endorse or denounce any yoga styles, but to share with you my yoga journey and how my practice has evolved (in my eyes) over the past 15 years. I have found it to be a secular practice that can be tailored to your physical and spiritual needs. It is a wonderful conscious way to work through inadequacies, physical or imagined and I hope you find encouragement to continue (or start) your yoga journey and be dazzled by its effects - halo or not :-)

Namaste