In my next life, I want to come back as a weather forecaster or a baseball player. In those jobs, you can get it wrong and get away with it.
Well, I’m neither of those things, so getting it wrong at work on a regular basis is not an option. However, there is one place where mistakes are part of the fun: my yoga practice. Frankly, it’s another reason why I love yoga. On my mat, I strive to cultivate a sense of playfulness that allows me to mess up without consequences. If I go into an arm balance and fall on my butt, I laugh and try again. It’s not that I don’t care about staying in kukkutasana (and yes, that’s pronounced “cuckoo”); I care deeply, but the process is just as important. If I can stay loose mentally and keep trying without stressing out about it, I know I’m practicing yoga.
The big challenge is applying that same sense of playfulness to other parts of my life. I’ve been known to mess up a dinner and brood about it for the entire evening. I’ve also been known to leave the house only to turn around and go back for an item I forgot. Again, the anger sets in for far too long. These types of things could be easily laughed off and forgotten, but instead I choose to berate myself for far too long.
If it does, then this might seem familiar too: if someone else messes up a meal or forgets something, you’re the first one to remind them that the “mistake” is not important. Ordering in pizza or missing 5 minutes of traffic seems trivial. But for some reason, someone else’s mistakes seem minor while your own seem gargantuan.
What if I was able to see each of those situations as another funny fall on my butt? What if I could turn that scowl into a giggle? What if I could actually relish the pizza or postponement of traffic? What if I treated every silly obstacle like it was kukkutasana?
I’m pretty sure, I’d breathe more and b*#@! less.
Care to give it a try?