Yoga Pam: The Perfection in the Ease

 I’m standing in Tree pose, rigidly holding myself upright, thinking everything is just fine. A little rigid, maybe, but fine. You know: Everything is fine. I’m fine.

Everybody knows what you mean when you say that. So Pam knows what my rigid Tree means. The jig is up. She commands, “Good. Now stop gripping with your toes.”

Just a few simple words, uttered with calm conviction. Pam has no idea what she’s done.

SHE’S TAKEN AWAY ALL I’VE GOT.

It took me years of practicing yoga to figure out that I could sustain difficult standing balances by scrunching my feet into the mat like suckered tentacles. It worked. And now she wants me to give it up? Noooooooo!!!

Not because she’s cruel. Because it creates poor alignment and can contribute to injury. And also, that scrunchy approach . . . turns out, not so yogi.

Sigh.

Why is it every time I think I’ve figured out some short cut in life, it’s usually maladaptive?

I consider defying my teacher. How bad can a little toe gripping be?

But then she reveals one of yoga’s greatest paradoxes, one entirely new to me: “The perfection of the pose comes with the ease in the pose.”

This logic runs 100% counter to everything my WASP, double Type A, overachieving workaholic life has repeatedly taught me. (And by “taught” I mean hammered relentlessly into my skull until the words “no pain, no gain” and “with great struggle comes great reward” are tattooed.) How could anything be perfect if it’s not achieved through sweat, gritted teeth, and an unleashed torrent of internal reprimand?

Pam, in her typical “Rader detector” fashion, sees this struggle flit across my face. She comes over.

“I’ve got you,” she says, supporting me. “Just let go with your toes. It’s okay.”

I make the tiny change—unscrunch my toes and relax my feet into the mat.

And she lets go. And it’s okay.

In fact, everything about the pose is easier, more balanced, more right.

Almost as though the ease leads towards perfection.

Imagine that.

As with so much in Pam’s classes, suddenly new possibilities reverberate through my mind. What other perfection could I find—in every aspect of my life—if I relaxed my scrunched vice grip?

It’s worth considering.

That life could be more perfect if I began from ease.

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Next up? Practice and All is Coming.

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Michelle Superle writes books plus other stuff and earns a living teaching people how to do it too. She gets her wellness on by running around with the lovely human male, charming dog, and beautiful horses she lives with. Join Michelle through her journey back to yoga.