When you feel the urge to create something, do you seize the moment, or does your mind present a plethora of things you should do instead? Practicing yoga can give us an opportunity to notice these patterns, and maybe…just maybe… it can remind us about the value of our creativity.
A patchwork of memories
A few weeks ago, I visited my grandparents for the first time since the pandemic began. (We took all the necessary precautions.) In the course of that visit, my grandma gave me some of her unfinished quilt projects. There were two absolutely stunning quilt tops that just need batting and backing, and there was a stack of blocks, some of which were incomplete. It’s the unfinished set of blocks that really inspired me.
These blocks were made of fabrics that my grandparents had worn and used in their home. The colors reflect the wild, bold palettes, uneven stripes, and paisleys of the ‘60s and ‘70s. When I flipped the blocks, I noticed that Grandma had stitched every one of them by hand. She had done so in the time before the fancy acrylic rulers and rotary cutters (pizza cutters for fabric) we have today.
Something about seeing these blocks struck me. My grandmother has not had an easy life. Nothing was ever handed to her. Despite the challenges, she still took the time to make something. Even with limited resources, she found a way to cut apart old fabric and stick it back together in a way that was artful.
I’ve since brought the items home and given them some TLC. I noticed that many of Grandma’s blocks are not perfect squares. A few seams are finicky. And what does any of this have to do with yoga? Well, the choice I made about the blocks is the same choice you have to make when you practice.
Create something even if it’s not perfect
In each of these blocks, we have something more valuable than perfection. We can see the hand of the maker. Sure, I could dissect the blocks with issues, square every section, and then reattach the parts. I’d have to rip out all Grandma’s stitches to do that, though, and in so doing, I’d turn these blocks she painstakingly pieced into generic bits of assorted material. I decided that I’m leaving them as they are. I will square up the outermost layer, which may involve a few cuts, and then I’ll add a border. In this way, I can assemble something that honors Grandma’s stitches and feels cohesive.
When you practice yoga (and when you do your life), you’re going to have moments of creativity and moments when your creativity will be shut down. Sometimes the shutdown comes from a demanding authority figure (ugh), but more often than not, it comes from this place within you.
Perhaps in class, the teacher cues students into something that sounds complicated. A portion of you will get right to the work of trying to do the thing or doing the thing. There’s also camp “Yeah, right…” (Not to worry if that’s you. I was 100% in camp “Yeah, right…” Instead of trying, I’d just stand on the sidelines until class moved on.)
In those “yeah right” moments, I couldn’t even allow myself to imagine what might be possible. I’m not talking about jumping into something with no regard to safety. Part of our practice involves paying attention to the subtle cues from the breath and the body. In those moments, though, I wasn’t even building the skills that could lead me to the edge of my own expression. It was a cop-out. There’s no growth there. When those moments happen, we might start by noticing that they’re happening. That’s also yoga.
The same thing used to happen in Freedom Pose, the time in class where we have a few breaths to move in any way we choose. I learned this “pose” from Rex, and when I became a teacher, I put Freedom Pose into most of my classes. I didn’t always love this portion of class, though. I used to become frustrated by Freedom Pose. Why won’t the teacher just tell me what to do? Maybe you’ve found yourself thinking these same things.
This resistance to trying and this resistance to taking agency for our own practices are deeply rooted. If we try something new, we might not (and probably will not) be very good at it at first. More often than not, the execution is going to be a little off.
Perhaps this fear of deciding for ourselves how we should move comes from being trained in our formative years to sit quietly and defer to authority. Maybe it’s rooted in fear for some of us. I don’t know everyone’s story.
Go for it
What I can say is that your practice will grow by leaps and bounds when you commit to it. Grandma didn’t give up creating quilt blocks even though she couldn’t afford fancy material and even though she didn’t have the time and resources to stamp out some carbon copy of someone else’s pattern. She did it her way. She built the skills she would need to execute infinitely more complicated piecing later in her life. She was not asking for permission to do her own thing with her own blocks.
Your practice has to be like that. It has to be whatever you can put into it. If your expression diverges from what we’ve thought of as “standard”, it doesn’t mean it’s bad. It means that it’s yours, and it’s part of the patchwork that makes up our community.
Creativity is a bold act. It’s a chance to move outside the status quo and to express what makes you who you are. When you practice, it’s yours. It’s cool to move into poses that have no names. It’s cool to meditate on the bus on the way to work or in between emails. Nobody said you had to meditate under a tree and only when you have 25 minutes to spare and only when you’ve got a mala in your hands. You don’t have to look spiritual, Bohemian, bendy, or any combination therein. Those things are nice, but they're often trappings.
“It’s yoga-practice, not yoga-perfect.” When you bring your full self to your practice, I think that is perfect. The ideal isn’t some mold we’re all supposed to fit into. It’s a pathway filled with shattered molds and subverted paradigms. It’s a practice where your breath, movement, and mind unite so that you can be fully present. From the seat of presence, things look clearer, and the creative endeavors you were afraid to try don’t seem so daunting. This liberation from thinking things have to look one way or that you have to be one way is freedom that builds on itself. I have never been more creative than when I gave myself permission to be creative. I have never felt more alive in my yoga practice than when I am making choices for myself.
May you find a sense of freedom in your practice, and may that translate into a sense of freedom in your life.
On another note
I strongly debated on whether I should send this message as it is. I've been having this internal debate almost every week for quite some time. It seems like every news update reveals another hate crime or another school shooting or more evidence of what happens when one group of people decides that the only option for resolving conflict is to create more conflict by going to war. These are human beings living and dying here.
I often look to my teachers for guidance in these times, and I forget that my teachers are also humans trying to make sense of what they're seeing. I just wanted to let you know that my head is not in the clouds. I see these things too.
This week, I'm doing some homework, and I hope you'll join me. It's an ongoing assignment that I'm working on. I hope that each of us can take a little time to look deeply within ourselves so that we can determine how we can make the world better and safer for all beings. It's going to look different for everyone. See what comes up. If we want to be peace, we have to see and acknowledge the reality of the world. It's okay not to know all the answers.