Aparigraha

I was in my second 5K of the summer, and I decided to go for speed. And yet when I found myself trying to improve my time, I ended up overdoing it and getting carried away even though it wasn't what I had planned to do. I had started off at a slow and steady pace, but once I got past the halfway mark, I decided I was ready to increase my speed and try to pass people. I found myself looking at people with calculating eyes and thinking, "I should be able to pass that person! She looks slow! He is older than I am!" And so I started passing people fueled by less than flattering thoughts about their abilities. But my folly caught up with me, and the last mile felt longer than I expected. I started to get a stitch in my side and had to slow down, even having to stop, which probably cost me a whole minute.

When I realized how little time I had lost by having to stop, it made me laugh at how silly I was to think that stopping meant that I had lost significant time. I still was 7 minutes faster than my previous run. And I was faster than a friend of mine who runs more than I do, not that this means anything. (See, I'm better than my friend!) Good grief. Some of those people I thought I should beat probably ending up beating me. How easily I had gotten caught up in the spirit of competition without meaning to do so. I think I am not a competitive person, and yet in a competitive situation, I try to do my best. Making good time wasn't my original reason for signing up for the run; I believed in the cause, which was raising money for a state nature trail. And here I was racing with complete strangers and trying to be "better" when that's not why I run.

So I started thinking about the Sanskrit term "aparigraha" and how easy it is to get caught up in grasping for something that I am not actually ready to do. I find myself doing this in certain yoga classes because I want to show the teacher what I am capable of doing. Take pigeon pose for example. I want to show that I can sit with my shin parallel to the front of the mat, even if my hips aren't quite facing forward in the pose. Or I will find myself in Trikonasana avoiding the use of a block because I have long limbs that can easily reach the floor. Look what I can do! I don't need a wimpy block! And yet I know fully well that using block isn't actually a sign of weakness. The block helps me to get into better alignment and open my chest more. And yet I want to show everyone, but mainly myself, how well I can do it. I want extra credit.

In our achievement-based culture it is difficult to slow down and see the value in not running the fastest pace or doing the "best-looking" pose. And yet I still want to hear that I am doing a good job. I want that feeling that I am somehow going to get an "A" for effort. How many times have I heard that grasping for a pose when one isn't quite ready for it can lead to injury? Why do I always let my ego prevail? Yoga challenges me to find my edge over and over again, and at the same time my practice urges me to slow down. I can't think of anything else in my life that causes me to be continually challenged to work hard while also not working quite so hard.

For me the idea of not grasping involves letting go of the need to accomplish a defined goal. When my ego takes charge, I get in my own way and lose sight of my own timing.