This post is overdue.

I’ve been wanting to have a conversation about asana–the bendy stretchy stuff that happens on a yoga mat–for a while now.  Specifically, I want to talk about advanced asana. Advanced asana is the hard stuff. Y’know:  freestanding handstands, floaty armbalances, super deep backbends. It’s foot-behind-your-head kind of stuff. Jaw dropping demonstrations of physical prowess. The visually impressive.

Honest to god, just writing about feats of physical accomplishment, I’m yawning.

The truth is that don’t care all that much about physical virtuosity these days. To be really honest, I care less and less.

For over a decade I chose to be part of a community that, in my opinion, put far too great a value on the pure  physical prowess. Want to get close to the man behind the curtain? Better make sure you can stick your handstand on demand!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti physical prowess. I’m just pro reserving the right to decide for myself how much value to place upon it, and reserving the right for you to do the same. I’m a lot more interested in doing my best to live with integrity than I am in standing on my hands.

I’m not even suggesting that living in integrity and standing on one’s hands are mutually exclusive. In fact, I’ve actually invested a fair amount of time in learning to stand on my hands–something quite unnatural, and difficult, for me. I still give handstand a whirl most days that I practice. But I don’t spend hours and hours on it because, well, I just don’t care all that much.

It’s not that I don’t care at all. It’s just that I care to the degree that I do–neither more nor less.

Do I think a disciplined practice of physical rigor can offer insight and make spiritually, emotionally stronger, less rigid, kinder, more aware people? Yes. Do I think it automatically does those things? Not on your life.

Fact:  some of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met have had some of the most physically impressive practices I’ve ever seen.

(No offense intended to the physically proficient. Some of the loveliest people I know have advanced physical practices, too.)

I want to be really clear that I don’t object in the least to anyone caring about physical prowess more than I care. I am not suggesting that it is somehow superior–or more spiritual–not to care about physical mastery. What I object to is mistaking physical prowess for doing the work of determining what value it has for one’s self. I object to mistaking physical prowess for being a yogi–or even just a decent human being.

My burning interest in yoga lies in being a Nancy Drew of Consciousness. I yearn to sleuth out every crazy, beautiful, fucked-up part of myself–and of this crazy, beautiful, fucked-up world–and figure out what it’s good for. I came to yoga because I wanted tools. Now I have them, and I am passionate about sharing them. That’s what gets me out of bed in the morning.

I practice asana because I need to move my body, and its particular way of moving the body with the breath works magic for me. It moves my blood. It shifts, for a while, my focus from mental chatter to embodiment. It reminds me of my creaturely nature. It emphasizes that I am a physical being every bit as much as an intellectual being. The physical invites additional inner experience. It pushes back against my tendency toward ennui. 

It just makes me feel better.

That’s more than enough for me. That’s plenty.

Part of a good working definition of yoga, as I see it, is knowing the value of things. What do I want, and how much do I want it? What am I willing to invest in it? An investment of resources–of time, effort, breath, money–in something that’s valuable to me–a practice, a relationship, a passion–is a good investment. An investment of more resource than something is actually worth to me is a poor investment. Failing to invest in what matters to me would be another poor investment.

There’s a Sanskrit expression, “yatha tatha,” that means, “as much, so much”.  Know the value of things, including a physical practice, and invest that much. Not more. Not less.

I don’t care enough about rocking my asana to make a greater–or lesser–investment of time or effort. I won’t be logging in the hours on my mat to take it the to the next level. Instead, I will be busily becoming the best consciousness super-sleuth that I can be.

I’m not an asana rock-star, and I’m not planning to be.

There. I said it.

How much is advanced asana worth to you? How much are you willing to invest? What are you unwilling to invest? Speak up or speak out. Leave a comment below.

1. How many hours per week should a yoga teacher practice?

A) 14
B) 7
C) It depends
D) This is a trick question, right?
E) Both C and D

2. Mastery of which key pose is the level of initiation for successfully teaching yoga on the local level?

A) Tadasana
B) Savasana
C) Full Wheel
D) Crow Pose
E) This is a trick question, right?

3. Mastery of which key pose is the level of initiation to successfully teach yoga at the national level?

A) Headstand
B) Handstand
C) One Handed Handstand
D) Foot Behind Head
E) This is a trick question, right?

4. What is the highest acceptable percentage of body fat yoga teachers may have?

A) 2-5%
B) 10-13%
C) 14-20%
D) 32+%
E) This is a trick question, right?

5. Which of the below names is the most appropriate spiritual name for a yoga teacher?

A) Karuna
B) Karuna-ananda
C) Moonbeam Lollipop
D) Billy
E) This is a trick question, right?

6. Which is the acceptable diet for a yoga teacher?

A) Vegetarian
B) Vegan
C) Raw
D) Gluten Free
E) This is a trick question, right?

7. What is the minimum number of Chaturanga Dandasanas that is acceptable to teach in a 90 minute class?

A) 0
B) 10
C) 20
D) 49,000
E) This is a trick question, right?

8. Which is the single most effective method of hatha yoga?

A) Anusara
B) Bikram
C) Vinyasa
D) Ashtanga
E) This is a trick question, right?

9. What is the largest size in lululemon Wunder Unders that is acceptable for a yoga teacher to wear?

A) Negative Zero
B) 0
C) 2
D) 4
E) This is a trick question, right?

10. Which is an acceptable morning beverage for a yoga teacher?

A) Decaf latte with soy milk
B) Kale smoothie
C) Hot water with lemon
D) Vodka
E) This is a trick question, right?

Was that quiz ridiculous enough to make my point? My point being that most people live life a whole lot like Mulder from The X-Files, believing that “the truth is out there“.

But it’s not.

(At least, it’s mostly not. Certainly, I acknowledge that there are truths that are true enough to be true without human consent, experience, or subjective interpretation. My teacher often uses the sunrise to make this point. With me, or without me, the sun will come up tomorrow morning. That will be true with or without my consent, whether or not I am present to witness that particular sunrise, and regardless of my feelings about it.)

Right now, I’m interested in more subjective kinds of “truths”. I’m talking about the truths that we create, or buy into, truths that under closer examination aren’t true at all. I’m talking about beliefs.

Take those questions up there, for example, about requirements for success in the field of teaching yoga. Sure, they are deliberately tongue-in-cheek, and look ridiculous on paper–but I’ll bet I’m not the only one who has believed some form of at least one of them!

It’s all too common–and so very human–to hold up our beliefs as gospel, and then to fail to measure up against them. Maybe we unconsciously create our own metaphorical yardsticks of belief. Maybe we invest in someone else’s. Either way, unquestioning acceptance of beliefs means forfeiting power.

Right now, my passion as a life coach, lies in helping people question their limiting beliefs. My passion as a yoga teacher who mentors other yoga teachers is twofold:  it lies in  sharing what excites me, and facilitating teachers in questioning unconscious beliefs–their own and the ones they’ve inherited–about what it means to be a “good teacher”.

Want to explore your own ideas about what it means to be really great yoga teacher? Want to uncover and challenge your limiting beliefs around teaching yoga? Want to develop the more on-purpose and creative beliefs that reflect you? Check out my Level 2 Teacher Training this month. For the first time, it’s open to yoga teachers of ALL traditions! Freedom has never felt so good.

What kind of limiting beliefs have held you back in your teaching? What kind of experiences have you had bumping up against the limiting beliefs of others? What did you once believe to be true that you no longer believe?  Leave a comment below and talk to me!

You know how when you learn a new word you start seeing it everywhere?

This post is not quite about that, but it’s close.

Individuation–six syllables that keep popping up for me.

In the last couple of months, I noticed the word in several Facebook comments. It caught my eye. I sort of grokked that it was a psychological term, but didn’t know what it meant. I made a mental note to look it up, and naturally immediately forgot all about it.

Someone I love used it in a sentence. There it was again. Individuation. I’ll get to you, I thought, even while knowing that I probably wouldn’t. Then, crawling into bed with Women Who Run With the Wolves–a tome I only halfheartedly picked up because it came so highly recommended by folks I respect, figured it would likely be good for me, and then quite unexpectedly fell rapturously in love with–there it was again. Individuation. You again?

Research for a workshop I was scheduled to teach on April 1st lead me to a book chock full o’ Jungian interpretation. Individuation. There it was–again!

It was starting to feel like the word was following me around. Jeez! Okay, okay! Uncle! Finally, I typed it into Google.

in·di·vid·u·a·tion ( n d -v j – sh n). n

1. a name given to the process where the undifferentiated tends to become individual or the processes whereby differentiated components become integrated into stable wholes.

Integration into a stable whole: that sounds eerily familiar to a style of yoga in which I used to be licensed to teach.

2. in Developmental Psychology, individuation is the process by which a person becomes his/her “True Self”. Hence, it is the process whereby the innate elements of personality, the different experiences of a person’s life, and the different aspects and components of the immature psyche become integrated over time into a well-functioning whole. Individuation might thus be summarized as the self-formation of the personality into a coherent whole.

That’s kind of interesting. Sort of sounds like what I believe yoga is all about–a process of becoming more and more fully the thing I’ve always been. It’s a process that, while natural, I could probably more easily opt out of. I could, let’s say–by default–spend my days on the couch watching reality t.v. instead of individuating.

3.  a process of transformation whereby the personal and collective unconscious is brought into consciousness to be assimilated into the whole personality.

A play in which the individual and the universal impact upon each other? Cool, and–again–right up my millieu.

4. a completely natural process necessary for the integration of the psyche to take place.

Okay, so it’s doing the perfectly natural thing with greater cognizance, skill and command? Still sounding a whole lot like yoga? Check.

5. has a healing effect on the person, both mentally and physically.

Okay, sign me up.

There’s a lot going on just now that I can’t say more about cuz it’s not merely my story. While I personally tend to be a shameless 2-bit-tell-it-all-internet-whore, I want to be respectful of the privacy of others. So, let me simply say this:  so far 2012 appears to be all individuation all the time.

One more bizarro phenomenon to report:  just like the word individuation, Carl Jung appears to be following me around everywhere. He is pivotal in both of the books I’m currently reading. I wake up from the vividest dreams, and–without a single effort on my part–a Jungian method of dream analysis has fallen into my lap to help me decode them. It’s getting weird–in the good way.

(FYI–I believe, as per Jung, that the symbols in dreams are specific to individual dreamers. So, I don’t think those compendiums telling us that every dream of water is actually about sex are worth much. I do, however, believe that learning to decode our own specific imagery can be powerfully worthwhile. Especially when said imagery is about sex!)

Anyway, my subconscious–or my essential self, or my soul, or my atman, or my superego or whatever-you-want-to-call-it–appears to be working overtime. Nightly, bottles containing messages arrive to my surface. At night, I am impatient to resume dreaming. In the mornings I return from far off shores with lucid memories of my night wanderings. Being asleep is at least as interesting than being awake–if not more so. I have begun keeping a dream journal.

How ’bout you?  Got any specific words or dead analysts following you around?  Having any particularly vivid dreams? Spill your guts in a comment below.