Last night, I left the mountains. Light rain streaked the windows of the Volvo bus I was seated in as we careened our way around the terrifying, hairpin turns I had come to know and love. There was a Bollywood action/adventure/romance film playing on the TV overhead, but I paid it no mind. I was thinking about all that had happened over the course of the past month. I was contemplating the strange nature of change - how it never seems to happen when you're inside looking out.
But change I have, there is no question. The trousers I wore to India, once snug, now sit loosely around my waist. It's not just phsyical, though. There's something different about the way I feel. I feel balanced - centered. (Although shame on anyone who spends a month meditating in the Himalayas and doesn't walk away feeling at least a bit more centered.) It's more than a mere feeling of balance, though. Over the course of the last two months, I've had to face a few personal demons. I felt like Atreyu from The Neverending Story, when he looks into the Mirror of Truth. It's scary, and it takes some guts, but in the end, it's worth it. And in my case at least, it wasn't so bad.
Two items of note emerged over the course of the past two months. One is:
I sometimes try too hard.
I always have to be the first one in class finished. I always have to get the highest score on a test. There's photographic evidence of this from my childhood - a ballet recital where the rest of the class is doing a plie and I'm doing what appears to be a bodybuilder's squat, my butt hovering inches from the floor. They plied, I plied harder.
The problem with this is, there's an error in the circuitry somewhere. In my bulldog-like refusal to accept anything less than absolute perfection, I have caused myself to miss out on a lot. Because somewhere along the line, a competitive streak got mixed in with the Quest for Ultimate Perfection in Everything. The logical conclusion to this was: Anything that I cannot be the absolute best in is not worth doing. Naturally, the circle that included these things widened with age, and continued to grow until, before I realized it, I had stopped trying at just about everything. If I couldn't be the best of the best, what was the point?
I've decided to try to strike a sort of balance. The pathological perfectionism can't be helped. Nor can the competitiveness. However, I can use these to my benefit, as long as I am able to find balance. I will continue to seek perfectionism in yoga, even though I know it doesn't exist. I will also be the absolute best yoga teacher I know how to be. I will be constantly trying to improve (in order to beat myself, see?). At the same time, I have to practice acceptance. I can't be the absolute best at everything all the time.
Another small item (not nearly as heavy, I think):
I need a new vice.
I enjoyed the crap out of my vices before I came to India. Particularly smoking. That expensive, life-shortening, stinky habit made me so happy. I loved smoking. I won't lie, if there was a way to reconcile a pack-a-day smoking habit with my aspirations to pursue a career in healthy living, I would have found it and would now be puffing cheerfully away at an Indian cigarette. But, alas, there isn't. Not even in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way. Booze doesn't really fit in, either, except for the ocassional glass of wine. Shopping? Being that I'm presently unemployed, this might not be the best choice. Eating? Please see "fits in with a healthy lifestyle" above.
Trying on new vices! Not as fun as smoking but more delicious.
Hm. I'm currently flummoxed. Cussing is at the top of the short list at the moment, but that's all I've come up with. Since I'm in "vacation" mode this week, I have induldged a bit in some shopping and eating (how have I never experienced Red Mango frozen yogurt before today?!). When both of my feet are again firmly planted in reality, I will need to find a vice or two that is sustainable.
Suggestions are highly #*!@ing appreciated.
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