I have spent, and still do spend, a lot of my life feeling obligated to do certain things. I guess it’s a bit complicated to explain; and, anyway, I never really noticed it until the drama of graduate school (I guess we can call that my existential crisis). I’ve noticed that many other people experience this internal belief as well—that they have to be a particular way or do certain things, and/or in a specific way. Spoiler alert: it’s all related to judgement and how we judge ourselves. But we’ll get to that later.
One thing that I love about yoga—that I didn’t notice about it until after about eight years of practice—is that it demands nothing of me. I don’t have to do yoga. I don’t have to do a downward-facing dog pose; I don’t have to do asana first, pranayama second, and meditation third; I don’t have to practice for at least 50 minutes at a time for it to be “worth it”; I don’t even have to roll out my mat every day. I don’t have to do a damn thing. It’s really such a relief.
…And yet I continue to do yoga. Over and over again, I roll out my mat and try out postures with my body. Sometimes I meditate, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I meditate without doing postures. Sometimes I practice breathing exercises in the car or when waiting in line. For nine years now, I’ve continued to do yoga—and I will (more than likely) continue to do postures until my body won’t let me anymore. Not because I have to, but because I choose to do so.