I leave my clothes in a wad on the floor and other failures

Why don’t I always stand up straight? Why do I eat chocolate late at night? And then more chocolate? Why don’t I close the cupboards when I’m done? Why do I lose my temper when I’m frustrated?

WHY DON’T I DO WHAT I KNOW I SHOULD DO?

I’ve practiced yoga a long time and learned a lot. Try me! If you have a problem – with your hips or your knees or depression or anxiety — I probably have a really great solution for you. But I still don’t always do what I know I should do.

Why?

This is the main reason I practice yoga – to answer that question. Don’t get me wrong; yoga has fixed my back and my hips, lowered my blood pressure, and kept me strong and active, but I think other forms of thoughtful exercise might achieve those ends. Yoga is after something else.

After thirty years of practice, I can’t exactly tell you why I don’t do what I know I should do. The answers are myriad and contextual. Fatigue. Conditioning. Rebellion. But the habit of asking it, known in Sanskrit as svadyaya (self-study), is itself a kind of alchemy, and scientists are beginning to understand why.

When we notice what is going on in the moment, we use the brain’s frontal lobe and move away from the more instinctive fight/flight responses. The frontal lobe is associated with deeper values, impulse control, and feelings of well-being, so it’s a good place to be, but it may be hard to stay there.

What happens when you notice your failures? Do you think you’re lazy? Undisciplined? Impulsive? Bad? Judgement pulls you right out of the frontal lobe and back to instinct. No alchemy. Shame instead of transformation.

I started this blog with the myth about churning the ocean to get the elixir of immortality. It’s the story of spiritual life. When we churn the ocean of experience, bad things come up first. Don’t drink the poison. Keep churning. Just notice.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to do things I know I shouldn’t do right up to the moment I die. That doesn’t discourage me anymore. Now I know the gap between my understanding and my behavior is where the light shines through.

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