i.e. How to Practice Yoga Off the Mat & Find the Extraordinary in the Ordinary in Order to be “Happy”
Soooo I don’t really believe in happiness. Def not as something constant, anyway. Rather, I can identify lots of “happy” moments peppered throughout the day.
And usually, just when I’ve internally declared I’m really happy, I feel a twinge of panic that the moment will soon end, that the happiness is doomed as anxiety or her sister doubt creep up the perimeter.
Happiness is fleeting. So if we’re always chasing it, then we actually miss all the little stuff that makes up…life. Life that is both good AND not good.
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“Happiness” for me, then, becomes about an ability and a willingness to take in all of the moments — the good ones and the bad ones. It means to slow down, practice paying better attention.
I DO NOT, nor CANNOT always do this, but I do know I’m way better at it when I essentially practice yoga off the mat and do three things, as simple or trite as they might be: when I travel, when I try things that scare me silly, and when I try to find extraordinary in the ordinary.
1. Travel.
The notion of travel is probably obvious. But if it’s financially possible to travel far from home and from what feels comfortable, do it. It’s good to be at the mercy of the travel god(desses), forced out of our routines and compelled to take moments as they come.
We’re suddenly not in control. And we’re most likely around people whose backgrounds, world-views, and priorities are different from or outside of our own. This is good.
Shared experience?
If I try to visualize the “shared human experience,” whatever that really means, I see something tangible.
Abstract art, maybe: a canvas upon which the artist has pinned thousands of multicolored threads, each disparate and pulled taut, but criss-crossing and overlapping to create something very full and very connected.
Each vibrant thread is exactly what it is, why it is because of its relationship to every other thread on the canvas.
To me, it feels like we have a responsibility to put ourselves into circumstances that require this interaction – this criss-crossing – with folks we’ll likely never see again. A conversation with a stranger in a community that isn’t ours is one very small way to expand upon and challenge assumptions of what’s “true.”
Travel is a practice of yoga away from a physical yoga mat
Travel, then, whether it’s out of the country or beyond my community, enables me to pay better attention to others’ experiences and stories. It compels me to be a part of what’s happening rather than try to control what’s happening.
And if I have to listen more carefully and observe more closely, I find that I’m more present, by default. Greater presence and participation in moment-by-moment interactions or even the frustrations of travel means, for me, that I’m happier.
2. Be scared.
Try something scary once a month. Or week. Or day.
New Things? Usually Scary
But scary is actually good, especially when we do the scary thing and the worst-case scenario we’ve imagined doesn’t play out.
Scary things are, therefore, proof that we are capable of a lot.
On the yoga mat, for example, there are physical yoga poses (asanas) that might elicit fear: balancing on one leg, leaning into an arm balance, going upside-down.
But we can learn how to do these “advanced” poses. Just like anything that feels challenging or even impossible, the learning of it requires a commitment to the attempts, most failed, one after the next after the next.
Beyond the Physical Practice: Yoga Off the Mat
The end goal, then, the thing for which we work, this becomes much less about the pose. Less about getting on the airplane. Or quitting the job. Becoming a new parent. Starting a blog or sharing yoga videos of yourself.
No, it’s the PROCESS that matters: how do we approach — step-by-step — the thing (anything, really) that feels scary? To me, this is the practice of yoga.
And it’s really hard work. Do you let doubt rule all? Or will you commit to the scary? Will you try again — and again?
Can you recognize and honor and be HAPPY about your accomplishments, however tiny, as part of the progression?
We have to step off the mat and trust.
3. Find extraordinary in the ordinary.
The grind. Within a normal work-week, everything might feel like a repetitive responsibility. There might not be the adrenaline of travel or going upside-down.
This is When Finding “Happiness” Might Feel Improbable & a Yoga Practice Matters Most
We all have some variation of this crazy, rote schedule. And so it becomes about choice: I must try to appreciate things that feel *straight up* boring. Many of my yoga teachers allude frequently to the importance of this kind of appreciation-practice, this kind of choice.
Attention on the Tiny Stuff
Just as much as a physical yoga practice emphasizes the process, I find that my yoga practice is also what helps me bring my awareness to the tiny, and thus most easily overlooked, stuff:
- The shape of a paint chip on the wall where I’ve set my gaze.
- One bead of sweat meandering down my left temple.
- How it feels to sit in my seat on one particular day during one particular practice.
This focus on the tiny does not automatically translate into inner peace. Or mean I’m automatically happy. Shame.
But, on or off the mat, when I choose to turn attention to the small things — to accept them as they are, acknowledge them as they are, and then let them go, as they just were — this is the practice that nods to the most ordinary moments of my days, to the details within the routine.
And I know my life will be made of mostly ordinary moments.
I don’t want to miss these moments…to miss my life happening. So that I can be happier within these fleeting moments, uninteresting as they might be, I try and fail and try again to find bits of extraordinary in the ordinary.
Mary Oliver puts it all together, beautifully:
“Mindful” by Mary Oliver
Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for —
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world —
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant —
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these —
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made out of grass?
How does this resonate with you? How are you “happy,” week-to-week? What are some ways you find the extraordinary in the ordinary…or practice yoga off the mat? Comment & share!
