Down-Dog Dayz

The dog days of summer are upon us. Actually, according to our dogs, it's already too hot. On our walk this morning, our dog Zoey looked at me as if to say "You've GOT to be KIDDING!" So, I practiced some compassion for our fur-bearing friend and cut the walk short. When I next saw Zoey, she was in her favorite spot: under our bed with her back feet sticking out. She looks like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of OZ.

With summer comes a downturn in class attendance. This happens pretty much across the board. People go on vacation, they want to spend more time outside, they want to go to the pool, etc. This happens every year, yet every year I have a moment of panic. Maybe I suck as a teacher? Maybe people only come to my class when there's nothing better to do? Maybe this whole yoga-teaching experiment was a HUGE mistake? Then a student comes up to me and tells me how much they enjoy my class. A studio contacts me about teaching a workshop in the fall. All of a sudden life is wonderful and maybe it's just summer after all.

Ego, ego, ego...blah, blah, blah.

When I was first starting to learn pranayama, I had a tough time with any practice where we had to retain the exhale. The first time I tried it, I made it 2 seconds before the panic set in...isn't the teacher ever going to let us inhale? I feel like I'm drowning, how long can this possibly go on why won't she tell us to breathe can't she see my face turning red and blue and then finally the instruction to inhale comes and I gasp in a big gulp of air and start panting much like Zoey this morning on our walk. We try it again, and again, and yet again and after a while I became more comfortable with the practice. I still couldn't retain the exhale for long, but I was able to control my inhale. I became aware of when I started to feel panic, and was able to either relax, or allow myself to take a slow, controlled inhale.

I sometimes get this same panic feeling when I take a class with an instructor who I'm not familiar with, or when I'm asked to hold a pose longer than I'm comfortable with or asked to do "just one more" repetition of a vinyasa sequence. Through the practice of pranayama and breath retention, though, I have become very aware of when I start to hold onto my breath as if it's my last, when I have a tendency to want to throw up my hands in frustration, or when I genuinely need to release. I've learned that surrender isn't failure, but rather putting my trust in something far greater than myself. Most importantly, I've learned that there are very few things that I can't do for just one more breath.

Hopefully next summer I'll remember that class attendance drops off, and recognize that it's not a comment on me personally. Hopefully I'll be able to meet this with grace and equanimity, and remember to breathe. Hopefully I'll be able to offer myself the same compassion that I offered to Zoey.

Have a great rest of the summer!