What four hundred postural yoga classes does not mean to me is four hundred classes. Four hundred is just a number. I possess a somewhat peculiar talent of being able to keep a running count in my head of all sorts of matters involving numbers. (I get this from my mother, who as a cashier at a currency exchange, was able to keep in her head a running total of not only the balance in her cash draw, but a running total of the denomination of the bills: that is, singles, five, tens, twenties, etc.) And, though I am mental decline--see, unlike most people I am not in denial of the aging process--, I still am pretty good at remembering facts and data--in fact, doing mathematical puzzles is part of my daily exercise--, especially if I can translate it into a number. For example, I remember birthdays, though I don't always chose to acknowledge birthdays, and other meaningless dates because these can be stated in a numerical format.
Also, four hundred postural yoga classes does not signify the accomplishment of some goal. Four hundred postural yoga classes was not a "goal" of any sort. So, in a sense it is has no greater significance than a marker on a jogging trail. You know how far you have gone, you use the occasion to take inventory of your body, of your breathing, etc., and you decide whether to continue, whether to turn back, or perhaps collapse and wait for the paramedics. No need for the paramedic quite yet. No need to stop. My breathing and my body are both okay. Inventory taken. I will continue doing postural yoga.
So, what the four hundred postural yoga classes mean to me? First, it simply means discipline. The getting up, going to class, and doing the work. Discipline is a dying virtue among Americans. We have too many distractions, and we give in too easily. Second, it means making a commitment to myself. No one else give a damn whether or not I do yoga, and they should not give a damn. Every time I go to yoga class I acknowledge that "this is for me". It is simply a commitment to take care of myself, a commitment to take responsibility for my well-being. Third, and most importantly, four hundred postural yoga classes mean to me something that is completely nonphysical. It means a commitment to strengthening my interior life. In doing the asanas all sorts of thoughts and emotions enter the mind, and I realizes that most of who I am has nothing to do with my body, or even my actions. Who I am has mainly to do with my thoughts and emotions, my wants and fears, in short, the inner dialogue(s) I have with myself. For instance, the dialogue I have with myself about being annoyed with people coming to yoga class late, the dialogue I have myself about why I am the sort of person who is annoyed by others coming to class late, the dialogue about whether I want to continue to be the sort of person who is annoyed by people coming late, the dialogue about how I am going to change from someone annoyed by people coming late into someone who is not annoyed. Such dialogues come up on the yoga mat, but continue off the mat. I find myself, in a sense, always on my yoga mat dealing with the inner dialogue. So, what does four hundred postural yoga classes mean to me? It means a commitment to a deeper interior life, a commitment to deeper inner dialogue, and a commitment to a deeper sense of who I am now and who I want to be. That is, the discipline of developing me. That is what yoga is about, the discipline of yoking the mind and the body, or the mind, the breathing, and the body, into an integrated whole. The discipline of developing the integrated me.
It is mainly a solitary journal. However, I would be remiss were I not to acknowledge that helping hands of my yoga instructors and yoga cohorts when I stumbled along the path.
Namaste.
