Every morning I enter the shala not knowing who, if anyone, will be there. I start my days with a strong reminder of uncertainty. Sure, thankfully, there are a two to three folks that are super consistent and almost always show up and are on their mats before I come in. But, there are no guarantees and on those rare days when one or even all of them are not there, it’s a pretty big smack-in-the-face reminder that I have no control over, well, anything….
Not knowing. We tell ourselves that we know a lot of things. We go to school, some of us for 25 years or more, in part, I think, to further convince ourselves of how much we know. Speaking as someone who did just that, the thing that stands out to me is that the further I progress in the realm of study, the less I feel that I actually know. It’s a realized actualization of uncertainty.
The day after new years I took part in a Zoom session with a new teacher in my life — Lama Willa Blythe Baker. I discovered her recently via an online group known as “Sangha Live” and their weekly “Sangha Sunday” online session which featured Lama Willa in their rotation. Her teaching hit home because she seemed to “get” the body-mind connection that is so important to my own practice of Ashtanga+Buddhism (a connection that I feel is often under-appreciated amongst the greater Buddhist community).
Lama Willa spoke to us that day about uncertainty. She said (and I’m paraphrasing here), “Shifting into comfort in not knowing, into being ok in groundlessness, is freeing. It throws me back into present moment — something I can take refuge in — back into the body — a vessel I can feel present in — throws me back to my own awareness — the one thing I can connect to anytime. So, uncertainty turns us back to NOW. We can come back to earth, our connection to the ground. Back to embodied awareness. The body is naturally in the here and now. It’s only uncomfortable from the place of holding on — of grasping for control.”
These words resonated in me. Coming into the body, back to awareness, back to the earth is our practice — and it’s what makes asana spiritual. Never doubt that the work we’re doing on the mat continually evolves our relationships, both within and with-out. Part of that evolution hinges on our acceptance that things come and things go — ALL things — all thoughts, feelings, experiences, people, places, objects — ALL.
This nature of impermanence is a thread of consistency that weaves its way through our lives. When I walk into the shala in the mornings that thread reveals itself and it has become part of my practice to resist the urge to give it a pull.