Why Do We Practice?
During my first few years of ballet (from age 3), I would get the same correction over and over again, every single class (for me it was to tuck my tailbone and to soften my rib cage.) I have received this correction a thousand times in my life at this point. And now, 90% of the time, I am mindful enough to do this on my own, but there are still times – if the practice is challenging, if I am tired or distracted, that this same action comes out. Last week in yoga class, I got the exact same correction. I love my body practice for this reason. I love that my body is determined to pop out in the rib cage, and that there are dozens of teachers out there willing to gently remind me to bring my ribs back into my body.
This is why we call these kinds of efforts a practice, because none of us are there yet, we are all on this path or journey towards balance and knowledge and self-awareness. The practice is, in part, to learn where, as my teacher says, you are leaking energy. Where are your movement patterns and thought patterns breaking your flow, or the strength and stability of your container? We recognize this in our understanding of how to talk to toddlers. We see that boundaries and some amount of reasonable discipline and routine gives them freedom to develop inside of themselves without having to fear their basic surroundings falling apart.
Adults are not so different, and our bodies are not so different. When the soul that is you has a safe container to dwell IN side of, to be one with, your life gains real freedom. Your spirit and body literally can become one because they exist in a relationship of freedom and trust. You could apply this metaphor to anything you call home - your house, your body, your relationship. When you become aware of your patterns, of the shapes and contours of your movements, you can recognize them, shift them, and laugh at them, and you can fall back on the tools that you have developed through the path of practice to help you knit your proverbial rib cage and tuck your proverbial tailbone.
