Yoga Pam: The Way You Are in Yoga...

“Aren’t you glad you’re back?”

Pam is laughing, gently. A bit like Yoda.

I’m crouched in a blindingly uncomfortable pose: legs bent, butt thrust back, pelvis tucked in, arms arched up, thighs shrieking to straighten, please, for the love of all that’s holy, straighten!

This is “Chair”, Utkatasana. Make it stop!

But Pam pushes me, gently, further down. Discomfort shifts into pain. I hate this pose. I want to stop. Why did I come back to yoga, again?

“Remember,” says Pam, repeating what’s clearly a familiar phrase, “the way you are in yoga is the way you are in life.”**

Just like that, I understand myself differently. The thought is entirely new. And it’s true. The way I am in yoga is the way I am in life!

My first impulse is to run from discomfort. Make it stop, my hedonistically lazy side protests. A sliver of my mind understands I could learn from the situation. Don’t care. I just want out. I want everything to be happy, easy. 

“You have a choice,” continues Pam. “You can come out. Come out if you want. Nobody’s stopping you. But you decide how to react to this situation.”

My teacher has invited it, so I suddenly see this excruciating hover differently. After all, I decided to come to class. I even tracked Pam down: I made a serious effort to be here. Why? To whine about how hard it is?

Instead of rushing to make it stop, what if I stay? Sitting in it. Moving through it.

I ask Pam about “Chair” after class. I’ve done it hundreds of times over the years. It was never a big deal.

“Now you’re doing it properly. It’s called ‘awkward pose’,” she explains. “I call it ‘the in-law pose’.” Her laugh is rueful, and we share the glance of divorcées.

Her joke triggers memories of excruciating exchanges with my (now ex) father-in-law. And more recently, finally meeting my new beau’s (very lovely) parents: I’d described the first visit as “awkward.” In those situations, I just wanted out. Make it stop. Case in point: I’d severed all contact with my father-in-law, a move contributing to the eventual implosion of my marriage.

But this time, I deliberately signed on for more back-to-back visits with my new man’s family. Progress!

As we are in yoga, so we are in life. Sitting in it. Moving through it.

**I know now that Pam, despite all her wisdom, didn’t coin this phrase. She’s the first to explain it’s a common saying in the Baptiste school of yoga where she was trained. Pam claims she’s “just” a vessel, channelling yogic wisdom in humble little Kelowna. She claims to fulfil her responsibility by simply sharing what she knows, just hoping it will help people. I say—Pam, have you noticed anybody else around here doing that? And she’s forced to admit: she’s the only one. 

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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.