My Yoga Journey: From Perfectionism to Presence.
When I was young, perfectionism was my closest ally. It dictated my actions, my thoughts, and my reactions. I thought if I could be more perfect, I could be more accepted and more loved. But this pursuit of flawlessness left me often feeling inadequate, drained, and never truly at peace with myself.
Then came yoga.
When I first stepped onto the mat, I carried with me the weight of my perfectionist ways. The first sessions were grueling, not because of the physical challenge, but because my mind was in a perpetual state of critique. Every pose I couldn't hold, every stretch I couldn't reach became a reminder of my perceived inadequacies. Sometimes before class, I would go into the sauna so my muscles were more limber so I could get deeper into the pose.
Years later, when I began my yoga teacher training, the teachings of the "Yoga Sutras of Patanjali," one of the foundational texts of yoga philosophy, brought me solace. Among its words of wisdom is the aphorism, "Sthira sukham asanam," which translates to "The posture should be stable and comfortable." This sutra doesn't speak of achieving the most complex posture or holding it the longest. It speaks of stability and comfort. It was a reminder that the essence of yoga wasn't in achieving perfection but in finding a balance where both effort and ease coexist.
Feeling into this philosophy with my own body, my approach began to shift. Instead of striving for perfection in each pose, I aimed for a sense of steadiness and comfort. The phrase I would often say to my yoga students would be "It's a yoga practice, not a yoga perfect" further amplified this teaching, becoming my mantra (and hopefully a mantra for my students as well).
Over time, my self-critique began to ebb, replaced by self-compassion and understanding. By the time I took the step to become a yoga teacher, my journey from a perfectionist to a practitioner of presence became the foundation of my teachings. To my students, I am grateful to pass on the wisdom of Patanjali, urging them to find both sthira (steadiness) and sukha (comfort) in their practice.
Today, as I guide my students through their sequences, I consistently remind them of the essence of the practice. Every session, I echo the words that once transformed my perspective: "It's a yoga practice, not a yoga perfect." I watch as they, much like I once did, learn to be less critical of themselves, softening into their practice, and embracing every moment with grace and gratitude.
Life, like yoga, is a continuous journey. There will always be room for growth, evolution, and learning. But it's essential to remember that the journey is about being present, compassionate, and understanding, not just with the world around us but, more importantly, with ourselves.
Find out more about how you can learn to do yoga with Ranya and Empathic Yoga here.
