The yoga instructor asks the thought-provoking question for the day:
“Is the thing that you’re holding onto, the thing that’s holding you back?”
Of course it is. But it’s not anything I want to think about. Because yesterday’s yogi thought was “what you think about today will be what your whole day’s about.” So I really don’t want to think about what’s holding me back, all day long – today.
Then the girl next to me whispers:
“I’m not wearing a yoga top. I forgot to put it in my bag; all I have is this T-shirt.”
MUCH better. That’s a much easier thing for me to ponder. How’s she going to downward-dog without her shirt flopping up? She should tuck it in. She’s gonna get so hot in that shirt, and have absolutely no support. Except from me, as I’m going to be pulling for her this whole hour.
So OK, what’s holding me back? Little Miss Yogi said it could be a person or a thing, a marriage, a friendship, a boyfriend, a job, the impossible dream, whatever. Do we have to pick just one? Or can we rank them by desperation?
See, I subscribe to the school of “Let go or be dragged.” Hold on for dear life until you tear a rotator cuff.
The problem with that is, I tend to only let go when I make contact with the pavement. And see a car coming. It’s a timing glitch.
That’s the beauty of being pushed. The violent shove that finally releases the thing you’re holding onto, that’s really got a hold on you, keeping you held back, while 1964’s “Hang On Sloopy” blasts in your head (maybe that’s just me). It’s the push that frees the soul.
And I really thought that was the way to go. Until I saw that video last week on Radar Online. A daredevil coaxes his girlfriend to the edge of a narrow canyon in Utah so she can attempt a terrifying rope swing. After 45 minutes of trying to get her to jump, he finally pushes her – off the 400-foot cliff.
Was the thing she was holding onto the thing that was holding her back? Yes. It’s called terror. And she was right to hold onto it. Though secured to a rope, she took the death-defying fall. But kudos to her for still being able to scream, “I’m breaking up with you!” on the way down.
Maybe she needed that push to let go of that relationship.
Maybe I should think about what I need to let go of. And how far I would have to get pushed to do it.
Or maybe I should just make sure I have my yoga top.