Newsflash: Yoga teachers are just as damaged, depraved, sordid, angry, insecure and proud as everyone else. Perhaps the only difference is that some yoga teachers are more aware of their flaws than others. But that isn’t a given; plenty are oblivious to them.
People are people. I’m not excusing abhorrant behaviour; I’m merely observing the fact that we are more similar than we might like to think. We have feelings. We get hurt. Exploited. Taken advantage of. Pissed off. Irritated. Fed up. Lost. Angry. Furious, even. Exhausted. Whiny. Grumpy. There’s a whole range of drama going on within all of us in the wrestle of the upward and downward spirals.
What can make all the difference, though, is connecting the inner to the outer and finding balance between them.
Practice yoga with Chrissy Carter’s Chaturanga Vinyasa Flow video on GaiamTV.com.
It is impossible to know hope until one has experienced hopelessness — that feeling of suffocating permanence, as if you will be forever trapped in your present situation. In a place of hopelessness, all feels irrevocably lost. We harden and brace ourselves for permanent pain in the same way that we gather and store reserves in preparation for a long, hard winter. It’s as if the shutters have been closed and all the lights turned off. Lost in the darkness, we succumb to avidya (ignorance), the belief that our finite experience is all-pervasive and interminable. Helpless, hapless and hopeless, it is impossible to imagine a light at the end of the tunnel, and we start to lose sight of the big picture.
But in these times, hope can be a light in the darkness, filtering through the slats in the shutters, shifting the shadows in our dark room from ominous to promising. Suddenly and against all odds, we can find compassion for ourselves in the face of suffering.