Author: Rachel Scott

I have a straw in my mouth that I am humming forcefully into. “HMMMMMMM…HMMMMM…..HMMMMM.” I sound like a deranged duck honking. Nasal. The vibration is jaw-jarring. “HMMMMM….HMMMMMM…..HMMMMMM….”

Face red, lips pursed, straw dangling. It’s not glamorous.

But many of us feel that the “right” life should have a little glamour. We like the idea of effortless perfection and smooth edges. We crave a sense of order, certainty, and elegance. Looking at the whitewash of social media, we think (quite logically) that that is reality. We’re supposed to look like that.

“What no one will tell you is that it’s okay to struggle.” – Chis Chavez, global yoga teacher

I’m blowing through a straw because I have vocal nodes. Vocal nodes are small callouses that develop in your vocal folds due to heavy vocal use. In my case, the heavy use comes from day job as a yoga teacher and teacher trainer, which means a lot of talking. I’m also an opera singer. And if I want to sing again, I have to take time off from hitting high notes and instead blow in straws.

Here are some other examples of unseen struggle:

• Ballet dancer. The bone fractures, the time off for physio.
• Perfect mom. The “baby food in hair at 6 AM/shouting at the children” moment.
• Actors. The team of make up and hair artists manufacturing their beauty for every shot.
• Yoga Journal. The coaches on the sidelines fixing poses.

With everyone selling the idea of effortless perfection, it’s not surprising that we have started to think it’s bad to show our struggle. We bring this into our yoga practice: we think we’re bad yogis if we fail, fall over, can’t hit handstand, can’t climb into wheel.

“…we’re expected (and sometimes desire) to be perfect, yet we’re not allowed to look as if we’re working for it.” – Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

I’m here to tell you that it’s okay to struggle. In fact, it’s essential. If we spend most of our time thinking that we’ve got to look cool, we’re never going to be able to do the work that will get us out of status quo. Most of life is composed of the grubby, dirty moments where we grunt, fall over, fail, get set back, and need a time out with a teddy bear for comfort. In the yoga practice, it takes years of falling over before we figure out how to get into an arm balance.

Rather than turn these failures into moments of shame, it’s time to celebrate our courage in getting up and trying again. These everyday small acts of faith and courage are the best of the human spirit. It takes great courage because we don’t know if we will ever “get there.” I may not be able to sing again, but I’m going to blow into those damn straws. You may not get handstand, but you show up and you try.

We can’t control the whole world, but we can start with our practices. If your yoga practice has become infected with perfectionism and a “cool kids only” vibe, it’s time to reclaim the authenticity of the struggle. Dare to get deeper into the fire of warrior 2, try the weird arm balance, and fall over in tree. Risk looking like you haven’t got it all figured out.

As you reveal your own struggle, those around you will feel the absolute relief of being able to drop their own perfection masks. We need this.

Let’s start the struggle revolution. Share your humanity. And pour your heart into it.

I’ll be honest: the world looks tough right now.

Partisan political fighting, cantankerous global politics, dire climate change, and a frenzied media all make the world feel like a very unfriendly place. Technology is more powerful than ever; we’ve had the capacity for self-annihilation since the 40’s. So it’s worth asking the question: do you think we’ll make it?

What will our future will look like: Terminator or Star Trek?

I’m voting for Star Trek. And here’s why.

We agree upon what a hero looks like.

Go to any movie and you know who the good guys are. You want the bad Terminator to lose and Sarah Connor to win. We cry when the good Terminator self-destructs in order to save the world. We admire the characters who make the “right” choice: they go back for Newt, they fight the Corporation, they bring the Millennium Falcon back to win the battle, or they put themselves in a nuclear reactor to save a starship.

We identify the good guys by traits like honor, bravery, self-sacrifice, integrity and kindness. Something deep in our human soul says, “Yes, that’s how we should be!”

Recognizing these traits is not a 21st century phenomenon; older literature shows the same themes. So does the Bhagavad Gita. And as long as most of humanity recognizes and agrees upon what elevated human behavior looks like, we have a north star to steer towards.

Frankly, we’re pretty clumsy as a species. We screw up, we fall back, we forget, we wimp out. But – and this is the important part – we continue to try. The world is a better place than it was a hundred years ago. Civil rights, gay rights, better medicine, less violence (though you may not know it to watch the news). Slow as it may be, we are making progress. And we must carry on.

Every day that you act a little more like John McClane and a little less like Hans Gruber is a day that you can count yourself a hero of your own story. Your small acts matter. And we need these small acts more than ever. Every heroic choice that you make – and every heroic act that you admire – is a step towards a future where the good guys win.

Vote for Star Trek.

This is part of a three part blog, Live Your Yoga: Making A Decision. Check out Part 1 here.

Making decisions – especially big life decisions – can be very challenging. We can feel pulled in every direction. Which choice is “right?”

The Bhagavad Gita offers us insight into how we can live our yoga in the midst of our daily life struggles and choices. In this epic story, our hero (Arjuna) is counselled by Krishna (his charioteer and the voice of Arjuna’s “higher power”) on how he can live yoga and still take action as a warrior. Yoga isn’t only for peaceful times; it’s for every moment of our lives. Especially those times that seem full of conflict.

Path 2: Karma Yoga

Krishna schools Arjuna on three types of yoga. The second form of yoga, karma yoga, is the yoga of action.

“Yoga is skill in action.”

Krishna dismisses the idea yoga can only happen when we’re meditating. “Aren’t we always in action?” Krishna asks. “No one is free from action.” In other words, rather than avoid choices (“I just won’t do anything!”), we must recognize that living involves action, choice and engagement. We simply can’t avoid it!

This understanding frees us from the idea that yoga “really” happens when we are sitting quietly in meditation, or zonked out in a good Savasana. Yoga isn’t just for the peaceful times; it is for all the times.

Not only that, but we each have a dharma – a life’s purpose – that we must follow and fulfill. Since Arjuna is a warrior, his highest good is fighting. For you, your life’s purpose may be caring for your kids, elevating your community, exploring new worlds, creating connections, or excelling in your work. Your dharma is the thing the compels you, lights you up, aligns with your values, and gives your soul that little “ahhhhh” sound of satisfaction. Your dharma can change over time. At one point your dharma may have involved your work, but now it involves your family. (And don’t worry my friends: for many of us, our dharma sometimes is just figuring out what our damned dharma is!)

However, Krishna cautions that we are going about “action” wrong, which is what causes all of our suffering.

“You have a right to your actions, but never to your actions’ fruit.”

What does he mean?

Krishna is saying that you must act. You have to act. And you are responsible for how you act. However, you cannot control the results of your actions.

Here’s a few examples:

• You have a huge exam coming up. You study your ass off. You do your best. But you still fail.
• You feel wronged by a family member. You try to bring up the issue compassionately. It all goes to hell.
• You have a big work project. You do your best. At the 11th hour, somethings goes wrong and your team misses the deadline.

According to Krishna, success or failure isn’t the point: what is important is that you took action to the best of your ability. The world is far too vast and complex for us to take responsibility for everything that happens. The wise person cultivates equanimity in the face of success or failure.

This part of karma yoga is sometimes misunderstood: it’s not that we don’t care about the result or try our best; it’s that we recognize that we can’t take responsibility for everything that happens.

And here’s a finer point, my friends: sometimes what is beyond our control is actually something that is within ourselves.

Let me give an example.

• I do my best to have a loving relationship with my family.
• Everything that is under my conscious control I direct towards the highest purpose of love, connection, and respect.
• Sometimes I have forgotten myself and gotten really angry and had fights or said dumb things.
• When I was a kid, I had an argumentative family and sometimes those old habits just seem to come out of nowhere.

Our conscious mind (and the part of us that is connected to aligning with our highest selves and our dharma) is one piece of who we are. But there is a vast part of our mind/body that is unconscious. After all, your heart beat and your blood flows and you can’t really control that. Similarly, you have some deep patterning that your conscious mind is not aware of. And in yoga terms, you’re carrying around karma from your past lives to boot.

So sometimes, we are beyond our own control.

Doing your best may mean that this old patterning surfaces despite your best, conscious intentions. And you must let go of the results even so.

Let me be clear: this does not let us off the hook. We can’t run around acting badly and say, “My karma made me do it.” We are under a divine contract to do our authentic best and learn from our actions. However, what it does mean is that you have to stop beating yourself up for all those times that you feel like you may have fallen short. How much time have we wasted in dwelling in the past? We our missing our ability to do our best in this moment when we get stuck dwelling over something that has gone wrong.

We must accept that we are mysterious sometimes – even to ourselves.

Your job: do your best, and let go of the results.

Try it: Journal

Take ten minutes (yes, ten) and do a free write, stream-of-consciousness about your life’s purpose. See where it takes you.

Try it: Yoga in Action

Today as you move through the world, pause and ask: is this my very best?

• Set an intention to do all actions according to your personal best.
• AND (don’t forget) practice letting go of how it turns out.

One last note: Krishna says, “It’s better to do your own dharma poorly than to do someone else’s dharma well.” I love this. Krishna loves you for trying. You do not have to be the best at what you do. You simply have to be your best you. 

And that is enough.

Are you a teacher teaching the Bhagavad Gita? Check out my discussion notes and study guide. 

We live in a world of “nexting.”

I’m eating breakfast, and thinking about lunch. I’m eating lunch and thinking about dinner. I’m eating any meal, and thinking about the class I have to plan or the client I have to call.

We love to “next”.

While some people blame insta-devices social media for our atrociously short attention spans and rabbity-hopping brains, I believe there is something far simpler and more dreadful at play: we don’t really like to be present.

Being present means that we will slow down. And when we slow down, we start to feel. We feel our heartbreak, our longing, and our intrinsic restlessness. We come face to face with the discomfort of being human in a body we can’t truly control in a universe of uncertain meaning. Rather than sit in this unsettling void, we prefer to distract ourselves with the “what am I doing next” game.

Another feeling that is challenging for us to face? Boredom.

When we get present, the reality of our daily life can feel strange and remarkably humdrum. Oh, here I am cleaning the counters, here I am walking to the store, here I am cleaning a litter box. We are not James Bond; most of our waking hours are spent in tasks that are plainly unexciting. “Is this all there is to my life?” we wonder. “Shouldn’t I be doing something more impressive and adventurous with my time?”

Thus begins a mini-existential crisis: what’s it all mean?

Rather than sit with this disconcerting question, we instinctively return to “nexting.” Like the bunny rabbit that gets freaked out by the wide-open spaciousness of the field, we dive right back into our burrow.

However, if we can endure a mini-existential freak out (even for just a few moments), then our true superpower is revealed: our ability to slow down time. When we become present, we transition from being on a rocket ship to riding in a buggy: life slows down and we can see the world around us. If we can bear to sit in our feelings/boredom/restlessness for just a few moments, we are rewarded by becoming more alive and awake in the world.

Right now, stop the “nexting”. Breathe. Be in your body. Turn on your senses. Give yourself a full minute (set a timer!) to do nothing but be. Embrace the birthright of your superpower. And look around in awe.