When we get caught up in the belief that we can become perfect – and the distress that causes – we can remember these two principles from yoga philosophy, let go, and relax a bit. Practice, not perfection!
When we get caught up in the belief that we can become perfect – and the distress that causes – we can remember these two principles from yoga philosophy, let go, and relax a bit. Practice, not perfection!Everyone makes mistakes. We all know this, but perfectionism, righteousness, and expectations often cloud our memory. We tend to come down hard on ourselves (or others) for the things we say, do, or think. Our previous ideals of who we are run smack into the wall of realization that we’ve blown it.
Although being hard on ourselves isn’t too helpful, it is important to recognize when we’ve erred. If we aren’t willing to look at what’s not working in our behaviors or choices, we’re likely to continue re-experiencing the results of those mistakes. It’s like watching the same scene – an uncomfortable and unpleasant one – over and over again at a movie theatre. That isn’t a very fun or fulfilling way to journey through life.
Perhaps this is why Patanjali, the author of the treatise on yoga philosophy, the Yoga Sutra, emphasizes two concepts when embarking upon the path of yoga. The first of these is Abhyasa – practice.
Abhyasa – Practice
We often say, “I practice yoga” or “I did a yoga/meditation practice today”, but are we really conscious of what that means? It means that we are in a state of continual application of our understanding of the practice.
In hatha yoga, which is what most of us think of as “yoga”, we’re primarily practicing the asanas, or poses, and breathwork. Over and over again. Day in and day out. We’re doing the old familiar postures and we’re exploring new ones. Some days we do them well, and other days we’re just getting by. It doesn’t matter – it’s the continual application, to the best of our ability, of what we understand each time we come to the mat that constitutes Abhyasa.
Life is also practice. Every day that we wake up, we’re getting on our “yoga mat” of life. If we are following a spiritual path, a path of transformative growth, then that means everything is part of that practice, from brushing our teeth to talking to the teller at the bank.
Forgetting That It’s Practice
The problem is that we tend to forget we’re practicing. We become grown-ups and assume that we have mastery over certain things. This can show up in relationships, at work, or in yoga class. We think that because we’ve done something a thousand times or achieved a certain level of competency that we don’t have to practice anymore.
For example, in school we learn to speak the language of our country or region. Once we learn it, we unconsciously may believe that there’s no need to pay attention anymore to what we say – we’re “fluent”. But it’s in our very words, whether spoken, written, or even in thought, that we tend to
make the most mistakes.
This isn’t just in the simple, common-place problem of tripping over our words or forgetting some vocabulary. This is the issue of communicating what we want to say truthfully, clearly, kindly, and respectfully. Or at least clearly and respectfully! How many times have we fallen short on that? Probably more times than we can remember, if we’re being honest with ourselves.
Consciousness With What We Do
Practice is about being conscious with everything that we do, and in that consciousness doing the best we can in the moment. Which means that, based on the circumstances of the moment, our best will vary. Usually the times that we have hurt someone’s feelings or caused a misunderstanding
have been when we’re unconscious of what we are doing or saying. We become reactionary instead of responsive. This isn’t our best, and it will reap fruits that aren’t so sweet.
The other day, I was having a conversation with a friend about something that was bothering her. I was relating what she was saying to a situation in my past that seemed similar to me, and so I kept interrupting her to insert what feelings I thought she was having, or to share what my experience
was. After a couple times of doing this, I realized that she was a little upset and felt that I wasn’t hearing her. I had been reacting unconsciously and not paying attention to her experience or to my process of listening.
I had to go back to the practice of listening with consciousness and attention, attempting to comprehend where she was coming from. This immediately shifted the interchange away from the tension created by my selfishness to a feeling of compassion and understanding between us.
Life Becomes Practice
There are masters in our world who appear to be beyond practice. They have spent so many years of daily exercising their minds and/or bodies that they seem to embody perfection. They could be martial artists, engineers, or parents. They could be our teachers. Their actions seem effortless and always on the mark.
The reason masters seem “perfect” is that their life has become their practice. They have no longer separated “now I will attend to my child” from their daily sense of being. There’s no longer “I will now roll out my mat and practice yoga” – they stand in Tadasana at the market, they bend forward with consciousness to pick up a piece of trash, and they are, out of habit, kind and helpful to others. The
philosophy of yoga, or good parenting, or creating excellence in a project at work has been absorbed into every cell, and they are constantly practicing. This is what is meant by Abhyasa – unwavering, consistent practice with awareness, that becomes second nature.
Practice Beyond the “End-State”
You will notice that true masters do not stop their practice. Often, a master will continue practicing long after attaining mastery as an example for the students. But even if they are not doing “asanas” anymore, a yoga master continues her inner practice of awareness. The perfection comes not from an end-state in which there is no longer practice but from an elevated consciousness of continually practicing.
This is why the saying “practice makes perfect” is deceiving. We take that to mean that someday, if you practice enough, you’ll be perfect and won’t need to make the effort anymore. Perfectionism leads us to think that we can, at some point, be beyond reproach. If we ever convince ourselves of that, then we open ourselves to error. Once we believe we’ve reached the goal, we begin to fall short because we lose the awareness and vigilance that was the source of our success.
Practice Together with Non-Attachment
Perfectionism leads us to create further suffering within ourselves. Assuming that a perfect state, behavior, or pose exists, we continue to compare ourselves to that ideal and constantly fall short of the mark. If we can let go of perfectionism and consider everything as practice, then we more easily accept our mistakes a natural part of the growth process.
This is why Patanjali stated that practice, Abhyasa, was to be done in conjunction with Vairagya, or “non-attachment”, in order to move beyond the reactions of the mind. Expectations, comparisons, perfectionism, and fear of making mistakes all feed into the reactionary mind. They block the clarity and attentiveness needed to make our practice effective.
As it says in the Bhagavad Gita, another great work of yoga philosophy, we must act, or do our practice, without attachment to the fruits of our actions. We do practice for its own sake; it’s the right thing to do. Being a good person, taking care of ourselves and others, speaking kindly, and
getting on our yoga mat, for example, are rewards in themselves, regardless of what results from those actions. Through non-attachment, we practice as a way of offering ourselves to something greater – to the Divine, the Planet, the Source of Life.
Offering Our Practice Without Attachment
During ancient times, in cultures throughout the world, it was common practice for farmers to give a portion of their crop as an offering to their deity of worship. Some years, their crops were great and they had much to give. Other years were so lean, they may have had only a few grains to place on their altar. But they gave what they could from their hearts. There will be days when we may feel that our practice is worth three measly grains. No matter – if we offer it with our hearts, without attachment to what is or isn’t, we can feel at peace.
When we are unattached to our efforts, errors can be places where we start anew. Practice is becoming innocent like children, seeing ourselves, our bodies, and others for the first time, every time. Every moment is a new beginning and a new opportunity. Then, like a young child trying to
somersault on the fresh-cut grass, rather than seeking perfection we start to see the joy of the practice. Life can be an expansive, delightful, and adventurous practice, not perfection.
