Weight Is Not A Measure

At yoga trainings, classes or workshops I’ve attended it is not unusual for the doshas to come up.  When they do it is very common for someone to turn to me, look me up and down in a flash, then with a smug finality announce,

“You’re a Kapha”   

I smile and respond,

“Fuck You”

No not really but I am sorely tempted. I’m tempted because sometimes my fiery Pitta nature gets the best of me.   I’m working on it.

I’m sure there are some people reading this who might think that wanting to tell my fellow yogis and yoginis to fuck off is not very yogic.  That’s okay with me as long as you are also thinking that it isn’t very yogic to sum up an individual based simply on their size.  The doshas are not just about body types. 

But we're human and humans like easy answers (me too) and we seem to make a lot of assumptions about people based on their appearance. I’ve been rejected in partner work .  I've  listened quietly and smiled (I told you I am working on it)  when people are amazed I can perform an asana, or exclaim that I have pretty good alignment.  They actually say these things out loud in astonishment.  Out loud.

 

Sometimes, when discussing my difficulty with a particular pose or discussing how much yoga has helped me I may mention my weight in passing as this does have an impact on my asana practice.   When I say overweight, or god forbid, f-a-t, there are always a few yoginis who cry in unison “Awwww”. You know that “awwwwwww”.  It’s the, ‘You shouldn’t talk/think/feel that way about yourself.  That is sooo saad’  awwwwwww.  

Please note before you ‘awwwwww’ at me.

I did not say fat and ugly. 

I did not say fat and stupid. 

I did not say fat and lazy.

Weight is a number on a scale.   When I googled 'weight', I learned that weight is actually a measure of one half of a repulsive force exerted on a body, or mass, by contact with, or support from, another body. Whatever that means.  

Weight is only one measure of one thing.  It is not a measure of moral fiber, the ability to love, intelligence, will, determination, kindness or spirituality. 

It is not even a measure of the quality of my yoga practice.  Really, it isn’t. 

I understand we live in a larger (no pun intended) culture where thin is in.  I've noticed that many yogis and yoga teachers have entered the practice by way of sports and fitness. I understand the excess weight can be a death knell to the competitive athlete or professional dancer and that fat is a scary thing for them.  I completely get that yoga practitioners are bombarded with the same media and cultural messages as the rest of society but I propose we try to leave the cultural beauty and fitness body ideal out of my yoga practice and I won’t swear at you.  Deal?

The Universal Principles of Building a Barbeque Grill

Or Just One Of The Weird Ways Anusara Yoga Has Helped Me In Real Life.



Last summer I purchased a cool charcoal grill. I was delighted with all the extra features I found on the shiny new floor model. A fold down table attached to the left hand side to hold the food and utensils, too cool. A cool adjustable rack for the coals so that the heat could be adjusted. A cool big black knob on the cool silvery backsplash thingy. Oh and the warming rack and the utensil holder were cool too.


Did I mention I thought it was cool?


This grill reached the ultimate zenith of coolness in the moments of anticipation I enjoyed before I tore open the box.


The coolness factor dropped to zero when I saw that ninety five percent of the grill was in pieces wrapped in paper and plastic. As in ‘some assembly required.’ My heart sank when I saw a myriad of screws, nuts, bolts, washers and wing nuts lying on a large cardboard rectangle, encased in shrink wrap and labeled with some strange and mysterious alphabetical code. Maybe it was Sanskrit? No such luck.


And the directions? The directions were simply line drawings with tiny arrows pointing to tiny letters indicating which fasteners were needed to assemble which section. They were labeled thusly: LJPMH or BMPJ or KEC. WTF?


There was a time when I would have taken one look at that mess and become overwhelmed with disappointment and frustration. I would have shoved all the bits and pieces back in the box. I would have closed the lid willie nillie and shoved the whole thing to the back of the closet and said “later” (translation - screw it)


I was surprised that the new me stayed opened up to the possibility that I could do this. After a deep breath, a quick prayer and a glass of wine, I spread the parts out all over the kitchen table and began at the beginning.


First, I stood back and looked at the big picture. What was the grill supposed to look like when it was finished? What is its outer form? Where am I going? What is the meaning of life? How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? OMG is this all there is???


I meant to stop before I became overwhelmed but I missed the “Stop Projecting” sign post and had to go back to the beginning.

Outer Form of Grill?

Check.


Stop Projecting?
Check.

Keep beginners mind?
Check.


I unfolded the instruction sheet and examined the directions. They were laid out like a blueprint. I simply needed to start at the first set of drawings, match the grill part to the lettered fasteners and make the pieces on my end look like the picture. Only then could I move on to the next section.


It was hard. Very hard. I wanted to jump ahead. I thought I was smarter than the blueprint and wanted to do it my way, the better way. The discipline it took to keep all those little labeled parts where they belonged was painful.


Sometimes I was clumsy. I dropped washers and doo hickeys and watched bolts and watchamacallits roll across the floor. I had to get down on my hands and knees to scour the floor looking for nuts and screws under the table. I think I swore a few times. I know I swore when I hit my head on the kitchen table when I stood up too soon.


But every time I had a setback I went back to the beginning. I remembered that I was a beginner and was open to all possibilities. I kept the goal in mind and the instructions in front of me and, TA-DA, ended with a cool new grill and a cool new appreciation for my cool new abilities.


The best part was that when I was I was finished there was only one plastic doo-hickey and 3 washers left over.


Building a grill turned out to be my yoga that day. I just had to remember to step into the flow of grace, apply the principles in order, go back to the beginning if there was a screw up and remember to appreciate the results, even if it didn’t turn out perfect.