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Falling: Vulnerability and the Path to Strength and Courage

I have recently been asked why I continue to use the term "falling" when I teach yoga. When one is asked to "fall" there may be an automatic response of fear. This fear resides in the prospect that they may get hurt. And here is the key word "may" for it is the possibility, not the actuality. We fall in love and yes we may get hurt, but we may also open ourselves to all the joys that life has to offer. We fall down, we tend the wounds and we get back up. We live and learn. By allowing this vulnerability we open ourselves to greater understanding and growth than if we were to protect ourselves from all the possible experiences of life both painful and joyous.

When we are born we are at our most vulnerable state. Naked to the raw elements. Naked to the unknown. We rely on those around us to fend for us, clothe us, feed us, and teach us to survive as we are delivered into the wild world seemingly alone. But what happens when we are asked to fall? American writer Madeleine L'Engle writes "When we were children, we used to think that when we grow up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable." The ultimate strength is having the courage to become vulnerable once more after taking that fall.

I love easily and I love with all the being of my soul. I "fall" with all the weight of every heavy cell in my body and heart. This was my downfall as far as I was concerned for I never learned from my mistakes. "Armed I am with Love. Disarmed I am" as poet Manual Alegre so eloquently puts it, I gave all the power to someone else. I had always given my mind body and soul to the person I expected would love me with the same ferocity and devotion. Giving all my energy to pleasing and searching for acceptance and recognition regardless of how harmful it was to myself. After the most recent and devastating rejection and failed relationship, after years of painful experiences with parents, siblings, friends and lovers; all the rejection, broken trust, abuse and sadness I had become so determined to be strong that my mind was numb to the emotions I was holding inside. I was resolute to be stronger than them and move on and move forward.

Unhappy in my life I was searching for someone or something to make me happy. I was searching for that "magical other[1]." Someone to make all the past go away. Swept away as in a fairy tale. Prince Charming: the one that is supposed to make everything suddenly better. Make you a better person. Someone to complete you. The one person that I now know doesn't truly exist.

Instead of allowing myself the time to feel and the time to heal these wounds, old and new, I searched to numb them and push them out of my life with over activity and eventually substance abuse. I found 3 jobs so I was working almost 7 days a week supporting myself through a fulltime university schedule. I ran, I biked, I went to the gym. I obsessively collected hobbies: knitting, ukulele, painting, song writing, baking, cooking and so on. Every other moment I had I found myself desperately searching for something to do or someone else to be around so that I would not be alone. My phone had become another extension of my body which caused more pain and anguish. It was like a personal attach when my texts would not be answered as promptly as I would respond to those incoming pieces of recognition; the recognition that I existed and mattered to anybody out there.

And inevitably the easiest way to be surrounded by people who wanted to give you attention without allowing yourself to be too close was to become a regular at the local bars. Such had become my exhausting life. And all because I didn't know how to allow myself a little moment of what I thought to be weakness. I was so scared that if I allowed myself to be weak that I would fail. I had invested too much time and effort in supporting myself through university and all of the chaos in my life. I did not understand that "weak is not a four-letter bad word."[2] I had built up a barrier to the world. "Hiding behind a mask of strength and responsibility is a lonely place to live" [3] And I was lonely.

My relationship with yoga began, as many others do, as a curiosity with the physical benefits. Yet another hobby for me to add to the collection. It was new and challenging and I took it on with the same determination as all the others. I was bent upon reaching the full expression of each posture, and hold each the longest. I could show off my moves and get another small bit of approval from my friends and family. It was my newest challenge.

The physical benefits of yoga are many. My running and biking improved. I was more aware of my body which allowed me to be more efficient and alert at work. But what I found in yoga went far beyond physical strength and flexibility. Through the compassionate guidance of my teacher Nicholas Yoga became a safe place for me to stop and look at myself. After years of painful experiences I had become so determined to be strong that my mind was numb to the emotions I was holding inside. Yoga gave me the permission to open up the vault to those painful feelings that had been guarded for so long. Stepping onto the mat became my safe place. I started to release the vice that I had bound so tightly holding the pain at bay and often it would swell up inside pressing against my chest so I could not breathe or swelling up inside so tears would start leaking out at any given moment when I wasn't strong enough to withstand the pressure. It was a scary point in my life and I made some drastic life changing decisions that brought me to take flight travelling around the world.

I quit my jobs, left school, left my friends and family in search of something new. Many said how strong I was to make those changes and take an adventure. But I did not feel strong I just felt lost and even more alone. The only certain thing I had was stepping onto my mat wherever I was whether it be in Australia, Thailand, or Turks and Caicos. I would feel the strength that my body had and feel the emptiness inside and I would cry. I would cry because I was scared, because I didn't know how to deal with all of what I was feeling. And all because I was trying to be the strong person I was taught I had to be. Through yoga I began to become acquainted with these feelings. But did not know how to begin to deal with them.

I began to realize that I could not run from myself. Whenever I turned around there I was staring at me in the mirror. All I had I wanted was to leave the old me behind and be someone new. You cannot start over, there is no reset button. You cannot truly mask yourself with work, school, hobbies, exercise and alcohol. There is no one else to make you better. It was the advice of a few new friends whom have become so dear and precious to me, that changed how I perceive my life.

The first whom I will refer to as Chef Thomas saw me for whom I really was. He saw through all my hobbies and stories. "Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen."[4] I was of course not ready for this and fought tooth and nail to get away from myself. I was not ready to see myself so how was I going to be able allow someone else to see who I was?

The second wave of advice came from an unexpected friend who quickly became known to me as my Captain. When I met Captain Tim I was almost ready to look in the mirror. But it took another fall for me to accept the inevitable. "Out of the Ashes Rises the Phoenix" my Captain would say. He showed me my strength and adversity to all of the situations I had overcome. He helped me realize that I had to stop running from what scares me and face it head on. He showed me that there was nothing out there that would make all the pain go away. We must look towards ourselves. This is the only way to find peace and love. And thus came Chef Thomas once again. And once again he brought out the mirror, and once again I was scared of what I would see. As poet Criss Jami wrote "To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength." This time with the support of both Chef and Captain I gained the strength. I gained the strength to face my crumbling world. I let go of all the pain, all the ideas of what would make it all better. All the misconceptions that I had created about how my life was supposed to be.

As it all crumbled away I began to fall. And I fell. And I fell. And I fell. And I thought I would just keep falling. I could not see the bottom. And I could not see how I had come to fall so far. All I could see was what I feared the most, all the pain from the past and the possible pain of the future. And then I landed with a thud on a path that I did not believe I wanted. That path was in that very moment. I was no longer in the past and I was nowhere near my future. But I was there feeling naked and alone without my armour.

Every path I have taken thus far has brought me to this very moment. And where will it will lead? That is still to be determined. What I can say is that it was my learning to "fall" that has lead through a path of love and happiness. And I continue to "fall" and each new fall brings me to another path of acceptance and understanding. I need to allow myself to be vulnerable. Yoga was the beginning of this journey.

"Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy -- the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light"[5]

Without my first exploration of yoga those many years previous, without the guidance of my first Yoga teacher Nicholas, I may never have felt the permission to fall. And without the support of my dear friends I never would have known I could find so much love at the bottom.

Finding the safe places to be vulnerable, to "fall," in this world are not always easy. Some may not even recognise they need this place. They "think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don't really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again. It's just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen; room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy."[6] I now find myself falling more often; the drop is not as long and the bottom seems to have developed a lovely cushion. It is less surprising when life does not come together how we had expected and there is less bruising.

When I am on the mat I do not see yoga as a way to overcome my fears but rather I see it as a way to give myself permission to "fall" into them, "fall" into my practice, "fall" into love with myself and those around me. "Fall" into myself and get acquainted with that fear that I "may" get hurt, "fall" into the benefits of accepting that I "may" not always land on my feet. So, when I refer to "falling" into a posture take a moment to ask how you wish to interpret this term. Will it be to make you feel vulnerable or will it give you courage to take up a dance with that which you fear? It is but a subtle invitation to explore these fears for anyone who wishes and is ready to "fall."

[1] James Hollis, In Search of the Magical Other, ICB, 1998

[2] Emily P. Freeman in Grace for the Good Girl

[3] Emily P. Freeman in Grace for the Good Girl

[4] Brene Brown from Daring Grately: How the Courage to be Vulnerable Transforms the Way we Live, Love, Parent, and Lead.

[5] Brene Brown

[6] Pema Chodron from When Things Fall Apart


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