Sometimes, no matter how much you think you know who you are, how much you believe something to be for you, how much you are sure this thing is what you want, your nervous system will surprise you. I have been significantly more “on edge” lately, a higher state of alertness, more reactive when things are out of my control/don’t go to plan, all because I am trying to introduce more love and expansion into my life, embrace more yoga opportunities, grow into new roles at work, and consider motherhood. So much potential for change has left me a little strung out; I find myself aggravated by our high-energy dogs, less patient in my relationships, and less present altogether. I’ve been drowning in the “doing,” in the “why” that takes up most space in my brain, overdosing on rational decisions. I’m a scientist by trade - it is my programming. But what about my nature? What about the deep intuition that biology and evolution has given me? The gift of “being,” of instinctual flow. Am I supposed to ignore it just because I have a neocortex? I suppose that’s the biggest curse (and blessing) of being human - we have the right to choose.
The biological urge has not left me, but I still fight against it. I writhe back and forth at night, trying to imagine what it would be like to wake in the witching hours to nurse a baby. I try to remind myself that while I’m up with said baby, I will be longing for these nights before nature split me open, before I thought I had a hard time sleeping, before, before, before. I swear it off, but then morning comes, and the hope is renewed. There’s something about a new day’s light.
I’ve decided to stop fighting instinct and trust it. I don’t know the mysterious inner workings of mind, body, and spirit, in harmony with a bigger Prana (life force), but I know it’s there - I've felt it move me in all kinds of beautiful and synchronous ways throughout my life. My light and luck in life are bound to me, set up in my stars, and I feel myself being pulled toward them. When I resist these nudges, these calls to presence, I only realize later I've missed out. I’ve noticed myself looking for what’s wrong in my marriage more than looking for what is right. The more I seek control, the more I isolate until there is nothing left to harm me; there is nothing left to surprise me, challenge me, uplift me, love me or enjoy me. This lack of connection and community is the antithesis of what I want my life to mean.
Western culture portrays the concept of surrender as something weak, curling into a fetal position, waving a white flag - a loss. But real surrender, in the sense that I feel it and practice it, as Isvara Pranidhana (one of the five niyamas), is a self-abandoning, self-accepting, self-sanctifying experience. My favorite definition of this concept is the one I learned in yoga teacher training1: “In practicing this niyama, we are invited to release our attachment to all of the things we feel define us, and to be motivated only by faith, hope, and love so that the fruits of our actions are significant… when we practice isvara pranidhana, we often notice that the way will open before us… leading us to our dharma (personalized path of action based on right living).” This niyama asks me to believe in something bigger than me, to trust in Prana guiding me. Everything else is just prakrti (the material world).
A few surrenders I’ve practiced lately:
So many things in my asana practice feel as if they are coming together. It doesn't always feel like this (it mostly doesn’t feel like this) - which is the point of practice. You never know when it’s going to click, how many times will I extend my leg in bird of paradise only to have my leg hang crooked in the air? Maybe a lifetime. Today I was able to place my palms on the ground in a forward fold, which has never happened. I’ve noticed lately that my heels sometimes touch the mat in downward dog, which i’ve never even “worked” on intentionally. I am not usually able to find mermaid arms on my right side pigeon, but today it felt effortless as my fingers intertwined. Surrendering to my practice, trusting that all is coming, is the only way these things came about in such a peaceful and gracious and exciting way.
My hips and thighs are carrying a little more weight and muscle, and my old thinking patterns are hard to shake. But accepting my more pitta-shaped body has allowed me to step into the sister science of Ayurveda and actually listen to what my body needs.
Coming off birth control brought up a lot of old and exhausted narratives for me that I wasn’t expecting; things I thought I had “evolved past” and/or worked out in my psyche up to this point in life: body image/insecurity, scarcity mindset around money and status, my identity/ego in my career, projecting a feeling of lack of support onto my partner (even when he is being supportive), and many other things I’ve taken some time to process. Despite all this, I still think it is in my cards or stars or dharma (or whatever phrase suits you) to be a mother. Maybe that is just biology talking, social conditioning, or some other reason outside of my conscious awareness. But taking a break to reset, to choose again (and again and again), to be brave, to surrender to this calling to presence, to something that feels bigger than me and feels right, has given me so much freedom and peace, and oddly, a sense of power.
This post is simply a reminder to myself that the meaning of life is to give life meaning (Viktor Frankl). The purpose of being alive is to BE ALIVE. I get so wrapped up in what it means, and if the world will be inhabitable, and if my choices affect the greater good, etc., etc. All I can do is lean in and trust.
A huge wave of gratitude washes over me, toward my sister for reminding me not to be so hard on myself, and toward my friend Anastasia, for reminding me that life (prana) always finds a way, and encouraging me to put this on paper, which always seems to relieve a great weight I carry.
A guided meditation from my favorite, Sarah Blondin, aligns with these topics so seamlessly. Listen here: “We compound our suffering by looking too closely at the thing that is causing us pain…You have but try again - just choose again.”
XOXO,
Chan
Acosta, M. 2021. Adapting the Yoga Practice: applying the ancient wisdom of yoga to the modern body.