Comfort With Discomfort
Often I wander through life, rather than systematically making discoveries through focused effort, and so I was wandering when I got a flyer about a studio in downtown Berkeley called Inner Heat Yoga run by Martin Hunke. At the time, I was missing having a good teacher at a convenient studio, and the words on the flyer resonated about as much as words on a flyer can: "breath," "intensity," "30 days for $30," "we do not heat the room." What was there to lose?
Six months later, I am starting to believe, although I am only a beginner at this style I have wandered into, that Shadow Yoga is a remarkable synthesis—one that isn't easy to discover amidst the haystack of diversions that are now marketed as yoga.
One feature of Shadow Yoga is that it often involves doing things that are uncomfortable. There are obvious sources of discomfort, like holding a pose for longer than your muscles seemed to be capable of, and slightly less obvious sources, like breathing at a slower pace than you thought you needed. Another source of discomfort would be focusing when you would rather wander.
Finding sources of discomfort is actually an exploration of its own. We are so attached to comfort and seek it so consistently that we aren't generally aware when or how we are avoiding discomfort and whether or not there are alternatives.
What is uncomfortable is of course not necessarily good, any more than what is comfortable is necessarily good. But often there are rapid and tangible rewards in doing what is uncomfortable. Stronger muscles are an obvious reward. More capable lungs are a slightly less obvious reward.
But the deeper reward that you discover after some time exploring bits of physical discomfort is the ability to start to recognize when and how you are avoiding discomfort. The recognition occurs in unexpected situations far away from the yoga studio, and the situations more often than not have nothing to do with physical discomfort.
A final reward is that there is an increased ability to intentionally choose discomfort. This might be seen as a form of toughness or strength, but paradoxically, it is actually a form of comfort: comfort with discomfort.
Six months later, I am starting to believe, although I am only a beginner at this style I have wandered into, that Shadow Yoga is a remarkable synthesis—one that isn't easy to discover amidst the haystack of diversions that are now marketed as yoga.
One feature of Shadow Yoga is that it often involves doing things that are uncomfortable. There are obvious sources of discomfort, like holding a pose for longer than your muscles seemed to be capable of, and slightly less obvious sources, like breathing at a slower pace than you thought you needed. Another source of discomfort would be focusing when you would rather wander.
Finding sources of discomfort is actually an exploration of its own. We are so attached to comfort and seek it so consistently that we aren't generally aware when or how we are avoiding discomfort and whether or not there are alternatives.
What is uncomfortable is of course not necessarily good, any more than what is comfortable is necessarily good. But often there are rapid and tangible rewards in doing what is uncomfortable. Stronger muscles are an obvious reward. More capable lungs are a slightly less obvious reward.
But the deeper reward that you discover after some time exploring bits of physical discomfort is the ability to start to recognize when and how you are avoiding discomfort. The recognition occurs in unexpected situations far away from the yoga studio, and the situations more often than not have nothing to do with physical discomfort.
A final reward is that there is an increased ability to intentionally choose discomfort. This might be seen as a form of toughness or strength, but paradoxically, it is actually a form of comfort: comfort with discomfort.
posted by Brian Hill at 12:20 AM
