Lately I’ve been laughing at the absurdity of the term ‘unyogic.’ It pops up with more frequency these days, sometimes as a passive-aggressive attempt to shut someone down, feel superior, or a way to chastise ourselves for (oftentimes) harmless, normal human behavior. I’ve found myself using the term in bouts of mental criticism, in judgment of my own actions. I heatedly remembered a recent incident where someone out in yogaland railed at one of my tongue-in-cheek posts and questioned my yogicness. (Sum B*tch Mawfukka!) And I got to thinking, then inking, which is usually dangerously good.
What I came to was this: the next time I catch myself talking shit to myself about being unyogic, I’m going to shut the fuck up. I will embrace my yogicness AND my so-called unyogicness. Because it’s ALL yoga. Really it is.
What that means is this: You and I, we’re both where we are meant to be. If our hearts, minds, and energy are invested in our practice, we are on the path; albeit sometimes rocky and full of slips and slides, but we are here. Every step forward is progress. Every step backward (or halted) is a moment to learn and reflect. More practice. More progress. If we stop struggling, pretending to be what we’re not, and just accept … we’re in the flow of life.
10 Ways I Am Unyogic (and don’t give a fuck!):
- I cuss. You know this. I know this. I love cussing. Growing up, I was one of those good kids. Always studious, always did the right thing, never uttered one crass word. Then one day all hell broke loose. This cussing stuff is amazing. Cathartic. You can get really creative with it. And, by golly, swearing like a m*therf#cker is so g$d d@mn much fun.
- I have a bad temper. I’ve been known to jump out of the car, ready to throw down when harassed by other drivers or having had parking spots stolen from me. I live in LA, though, so that has to make me eligible for some sort of Get-Out-of-Temper-Free Card.
- I’m the biggest neat freak in the world. I clean when happy, mad, frustrated, sad…oh, for any old reason. I try to Go With the Flow and Be Present, but then I see that speck of dust or the toothbrush in the wrong place, and it’s all shot to swiffer. There’s cleaning to be done!
- I don’t love everyone. Shocker, right? There are lots, and I mean TONS, of assholes in this world. Let’s not encourage them, mmmmkay?!
- I have an evil sense of humor. The boyfriend is scarred for life after the time I scraggled up my hair, put it all in my face, dressed in black, and climbed in the opposite side of the shower while he had soap in his eyes and couldn’t see. Did I mention that The Ring really freaks him out? When I look back, I realize how lucky I am not to have been punched in the face due to a purely adrenaline-based reaction. But that hasn’t stopped my antics. :)
- I have a sort of red tantric love for cars. You know, borderline autophilia. For Aston Martins (DB9) and Lamborghinis (Murcielago), specifically.
- I’m smart (and humble!) and sometimes I need to read or watch stupid things to give my million-mile-per-hour brain a break. And I know I should be reading something intelligent and jnanic instead. My compromise is Calvin & Hobbes — witty, entertaining, and requires nothing of me.
- I’m a Tigress, fiercely protective. People who mess with my loved ones really push my buttons. And I want to hurt them, then bat their helpless bodies around.
- I am obsessed with fashion + clothing. I’m a Carrie. The quintessential clotheshorse.
- My sarcasm knows no bounds. And has yet to be self-checked. :)
What about you, my unyogic friends? What do you do that colors outside the lines of yogicness?
I say embrace it. Raise your fist and say, “Suck it!” Because in all our ‘unyogicness,’ we are yogic.
photo credit: cottontimer.com