Humble Pie

I know pie isn't on the cleanse food plan, but I've been eating some this week...metaphorically, that is.

Asmita is one of the obstacles to the yogic path described by Patanjali. Asmita can be translated as ego. I had a teacher who used to describe it as mistaking the "Little I" for the "Big I." I've run smack into my "Little I" this week. And, of course, I was expecting that my "Little I" was, if not completely gone from my life, at least in permanent remission. I felt like over the last year I'd made tremendous progress, digging through the gunk in my mind and heart and body. And, in truth I have. But that doesn't mean that I don't still have a "Little I."

Teaching asana and sharing with each of you this week has been tremendous for me -- a great joy and a pleasure. Also, a ripe opportunity for me to wrestle with my particular brand of ego. You see, my pathology is focusing on others, focusing outwardly, making everything nice for everyone else -- and actually believing that if I do everything in a particular way, then everyone will like me, will enjoy themselves, will...whatever. (DISCLAIMER: I do not want everyone (or even anyone) to reassure me that I'm liked or that I've done fine this week.) In these moments, I find myself struggling to just be myself and not take on the role of THE TEACHER...How can I be the teacher, a teacher, your teacher and still fully myself? That is the challenge for me. To find the balance between the outward focus necessary to being a good teacher and the still center that is fully me, the "Big I."

I shared with the part of the kula practicing at West this morning that I got to the studio and couldn't get in because the building was locked. It was the perfect opportunity to practice...and I did dismally. If you'd seen me or spoken to me, I would have seemed like I had it under control, but inside I was deeply agitated because someone else's actions might influence how students coming to practice this morning viewed not only the studio or the experience, but me. That is the reality of it. I was concerned with how it would reflect on me.

That's my slice of humble pie -- doesn't go down easy, but may turn out to be sweet after all.