We are well aware of the ways in which the physical body needs to be both strong and flexible while on the yoga mat: we know that excessive strength inhibits suppleness which means we lack adequate access to our joints' full range of motion while too much flexibility impedes those experiences that call for endurance and stability. An optimal practice focuses on generating equal amounts of physical strength and flexibility.
We also know that our inner self -- our mind, our heart, our metaphysical-ness -- needs a similar kind of balance. We need to be equal parts tenacious and patient, courageous and humble, vigorous and gentle, intuitive and open-minded. And it's really only when we've achieved balance between firm and supple on the outside as well as the inside that we wholly receive the benefits of our practice.
'Intention' is a word we hear frequently in class. We are constantly reminded to start our practice by setting an intention. What does that even mean?? As a student you may be thinking to yourself, "You're the one with the knowledge, the experience, and the planned sequence. How am I supposed to know the intention?" And that's fair. The teacher's intention for the class as a whole certainly influences your intention as an individual. However, even though the practice is taking place under the guidance of an instructor and likely in the presence of other students, it is in fact your own personal experience, and recognizing your own intention is imperative. The basic idea is that your practice will be much more fruitful if you go into it with a conscious purpose. But, like most things related to our time on the mat, there's more to it than that. Not unlike our bodies, intentions also need the right balance of strength and flexibility.
Bring to mind the image of an athlete and her ball. If I were more sports-oriented, I would provide a more explicit imagining, but instead I'll leave the details up to you -- a player of any kind of sport handling any kind of spherical equipment will do. As she stands with ball in hand ready to enact some kind of projectile motion, she is likely fixed intently upon a specific target in front of her. She has a purpose: act so as to either earn a point for herself or prevent someone else from earning a point. And she is committed to engaging herself in whatever physical and mental ways are necessary in order to achieve her goal. Her focus on that intention is certainly strong. If it's not, she's not likely to get what she wants. Is the sheer strength and conviction of her intention a sufficient condition toward her success? You already know that it's not.
Once that ball leaves her hands, it is no longer in her control. She has the power to set a proper foundation and initiate a well-formed launch. After that, the ball is at the mercy of any number of uncontrollable external influences: wind speed and direction, gravity, the slope of the field, interference by another player, etc. Those things can affect the trajectory and therefore final destination of the ball, and there's very little she can do about it. All she can do is witness it and use it to her advantage the next time. Even the strongest of intentions are susceptible to interference. And that's where flexibility comes into it.
Like an athlete with her ball in hand, we hold an intention in our mind and in our heart: we consider what it is that we want, we fix our gaze on it, and we launch it via our words (either silent ones to our self or out-loud ones for others to hear). Once the intention has left our mind and our mouth, it is susceptible to all sorts of external influences and is no longer entirely within our control. That means that we have to be willing to witness it changing, shifting, and evolving as it unfolds in front of us.
If you cannot allow your intentions some flexibility, you will butt-up against devastating disappointment when they inevitably fall short of expectations. No matter how skillful or experienced the athlete, how well-formed the launch, how wide-open the goal, or how strongly the score is desired, no ball will land just where you want it to every time you throw it. You take a stance, send the ball on its way, stand back and watch. And then accept with contentment the reality of its resting place. That includes reacting appropriately. React with an attitude of pride and satisfaction with your effort, genuine curiosity toward what happened well and what didn't, and excitement about doing it again and again and again. That acceptance and contentment is the supple side of intention.
Only acceptance and contentment, however, is all flexibility with no strength. It's all seaweed with no backbone. You have to know what you want and what you're willing to do to get it. Decide. Pick something. Want it. See it in front of you, aim, and extend yourself in its direction. Then go about making a practical and diligent effort at achieving it. Along the way, give yourself space for mistakes and setbacks. Allow leeway for obstacles and interferences. And react/adjust accordingly.
Intentions are strongly purposeful. They are not chiseled in stone and they are not guaranteed. Be strong enough to commit to something valuable and accessible, and then be flexible enough to surrender into its manifestation (which may or may not be the way you imagined it).
As a class, we need to make some adjustments to our intentions moving forward with DK. I am going to put some more thought into exactly what that will entail, and then I'll comment on it again in a few days. Look at, read through, practice if possible Weeks Nine and Ten Sequence this week.
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