In our column, Yoga Pam: Guru in Honky Town, we follow Michelle’s yoga adventures as she experiences the gift that keeps on giving. For her 37th birthday, she gave herself regular yoga classes with an exceptionally gifted teacher, Kelowna’s Pam Rader. Join us as Pam—and her classes—transform Michelle’s life and outlook.
Need to get caught up on Michelle's yoga journey? Start here.
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I’ve always been a fidgeter. I twirl my hair. I play with my jewellery. I fuss with my fingernails. I’ve been reprimanded in school, in church, and by relatives. Nothing makes any impact on the bad habit. I’ve resigned myself to accepting it.
But yoga is the worst place to fidget. The whole point of the practice is to focus deeply and cultivate internal stillness within the poses. I should have known Pam would call me on it.
In class, my fidgeting shows up loudest on the way to Warrior Two. It’s just a few seconds, the glide down from Warrior One into Warrior Two—but no matter. I’m a champ. I can pack in a swipe across my forehead at my sweaty hair, a yank at my sagging waistband, and a scratch at my itchy wrist.
“Whooooaaaaaa!” says Pam one particularly fidgety Saturday. “What is all this stuff going on?”
She mimics her yogis, showing us how absurd we look. We’re like a herd of horses tormented by black flies.
“Try it again. This time with no stuff. Just go.”
She talks us through the sequence. As chagrined as I am to be called out on my habit, I’m relieved to have companions in the fidgeting.
“It’s universal,” Pam consoles me after class. “Fidgeting is a classic resistance tactic. It keeps us removed from the real work of yoga.”
“I’ve always been like this, though,” I whine.
“Exactly.”
Pam will mount an anti-fidget campaign, I know instantly. And despite a lifetime of fidgeting, it’ll be tough to persevere in the face of my teacher, whose determination is guru-like.
When Pam recognizes something that’s hobbling her yogis, she won’t stop until she’s shown us how to be aware of it—how to make the choice to stop. Or to accept it. As long as we’re aware.
Sure enough, within a few weeks, she’s saying, “That’s better,” when we flow into Warrior Two. “You did it without all the stuff.”
That’s the thing about yoga. The practice highlights those foibles and quirks we should make peace with. Acceptance is powerful. But yoga also draws attention to those bad habits genuinely holding us back. We get a clear picture of what needs to change and why… I can choose to not let some stupid habit prevent me from real depth of experience.
And I learn quickly: without the stuff, there’s just the practice. Clean. Simple. Focused.
That’s yoga.
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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.