Back to Normal

Back to Normal

118th Edition

Happy Spiritual Monday

What is normal? Who do we know that we would define as normal? It is an interesting term, one that we use in reference to the world every day, yet it holds such a mystery for me.

Definitions

The point has been made before several times, and I don’t wish to beleaguer it here, but it was a strange phenomenon to me when people were using the term “I’ll do whatever it takes so we can just get back to normal again…” only recently, within the past couple years. I wasn’t exactly sure what “normal” they were referring to: Normal life? Normal work? Normal relating? And normal based on who’s definition?

My understanding of the sentiment was that they wanted to get back to things the way they used to be. Now, I never uttered this statement, but I wouldn’t mind going back to the time when fuel cost $1/ gallon, food was reasonable, a single income could afford a family’s wellbeing, a house, cars, education and the lot… But we all really know there is no going back, and truthfully, nowhere to go back to.

End of ramble.

Now, normal in the modern world, could sometimes be swapped out for average, or the mean standard of existence based on some odd billion people’s qualities. I sincerely doubt anyone has surveyed all humans on the earth, so we will have to assume that this definition of normal is simply a qualification which we all agree to assign to the label.

I’ll reference it here with regards to myself, as this term has become much more poignant for me lately.

How it began…

Since I can recall, I have been fortunate to be blessed in the way that things have always come pretty easily for me - sports, instruments, skills, scholastic subjects. I was the kid who never studied, barely did the work, and got A’s. Life generally came pretty easy for me, to the degree that I can look back and say that I may have felt a touch of boredom in how I was getting through life.

The dark side of this is that I never had to develop a work ethic, as I got most things at a high level of performing without any work. Cool as a youth, not as cool as an adult.

This trait has come to bite me in the ass in several areas of my life in the past decade or so, and while I could go on about how it’s been a bit of an inconvenience, I am grateful that I have had the opportunities for growth I have had.

One area which has been very front and centre lately has been physical fitness. I got into yoga and was hooked from day dot. When I only knew of one class a week, I would religiously do some form of practice every morning and evening - as a compulsion. The syncing of movement, breath and awareness became a saviour of sorts for me, a portal back to connection where I could find peace, solace, connection.

I was dedicated to growth, maybe for the first time ever, and my practice improved - physically, yes, but more importantly on a spiritual level. I felt great all the time, I was content, and there was a beautiful sense of freedom within me.

This continued through most of my time as a teacher, loving the practice, learning, moving, breathing and exploring different facets and dimensions of inner work and practice along the way as they were presented.

When I started teaching full time, my passion became my job, and it started slowly, but something shifted. No longer was I just a fellow teacher who was here for a practice, I was a trainer, a coach, some one who might deconstruct what you were teaching in order to help you grow, but potentially at the cost of the ego’s glory.

Short version, teachers became less happy to have me at their classes for fear that I might tear the class apart afterward. This was never my intent, but I did find that my skills were better honed with tough love, illumination of where I wasn’t up to snuff vs accolades of my greatness. In my coaching, I was, I am and I will continue to be incisive, direct and realistic. No time for fluff.

The Slope

All that aside, there began in me a soft distancing from the practice within designated spaces - studios - as they became overwhelmingly unsatisfying. Not bad, but I would leave not content. Part of this was, for sure, a sense of nerves coming from my fellow teachers,  but there was also a part where the process of going to a studio to practice became less desirable than doing my own thing.

Some of this could be argued as justification or reasoning, depending on the perspective, but I noticed that my own personal practice - at least formally - began to diminish. It’s worth noting that when I say my formal practice, I refer to those things which could be argued to be a standard piece of the yoga practice. Less classes with others, even less of my own practices, less meditation… Just a bit less.

As I continued to teach my students, I could maintain my practice sufficiently to be on my game and connect with them to be a conduit through which source codes could move, but there were glimmers of inner chats around authenticity and integrity.

There was also an assumed role or label ascribed to me which held me at high level of teaching, one which I never really clicked with. More succinctly - people thought very highly of me as a student, a teacher, a coach and more, but a part of that felt unequal to where I was in myself.

Anyway, I always feel that I have maintained a strong connection to practice such that I am able to step into the frequency of teaching when I am needed, but something has come up for me where I am feeling more empathy for my students than ever before, and it is simultaneously exciting and frustrating.

My Normal Experience

In my life I can recall still the first yoga class I ever attended. It was Yoga with Harriet, 7pm at The South End Gym in Torrance, California. I had no idea what I was walking into but friends had told me how rad yoga was for surfing and snowboarding, so I was game!

In my first class, we flowed a little, but it was a slower, more haha tuned kinda class. At one point, the offer came to explore bakasana, crow pose, an arm balance which requires one to support their weight on the hands with bent arms and tucked torso. I looked at what the teacher was demonstrating, and I replicated it. Fairly straightforward for me, and it felt good. From Harriet I received praise for how well I did to get into it. Seemed unnecessary, as it wasn’t all too difficult, but thanks for the ego stroking!

I left that class feeling high, and never looked back.

Fast forward to coming to Australia and teaching for the first time… It was a shock. I had come from a high intensity studio in Boston, lots of academics, high competitive nature, everyone doing every pose without flinching to a space where a softer version of the pose was offered… Sounds crazy but this was weird for me. I never had heard of someone offering somebody to just not do the practice they were teaching but to defer to their own desires instead…

After awhile I realised the merit in this offer but I also saw how it became an abusable drug for some… That’s a tale for another time..

What wisdom came from that, was that there were people who came to practice yoga once, twice or a few times a week, but who’s lives didn’t revolve around it.  Again, sounds ridiculous, but as someone whose life had and did revolve around the practice, it shocked me.

There were “Normal People” to some degree. People who lived a life, and also went to some yoga classes for fun or sport - or both. In this way, there was a demand for softening the practice for them, as they may not have had the regularity of practice that I had, and thus, needed to be met where they were, a more attainable practice.

My teaching adapted to serve these beautiful souls who were keen on growing, on having a connected experience of presence, but who were maybe not as physically eligible, or even mentally practiced. I had compassion for them.

Fast forward a few years, and now I see my personal practice slowed down a lot as I navigate fatherhood and full time parenting, trying to balance out life in all its challenges, complexities and beautiful happenings.

As someone who usually was able to step into any situation and play the game at a decently high level, I may not have had the empathy for those less apt than myself that I do now.

This past weekend, the entire east coast of Australia was absolutely incredible for surfers. Ideal conditions, big surf, stuff dreams are made of. I had the opportunity to surf one of the iconic waves of this country on a day when many were calling it the best they had ever seen -  a hefty call that I was in no position to make.

As I paddled out and watched the first few sets of dreamy tubes freight train through the lineup, I felt for the first time that maybe I was undergunned. My skills and prowess had waned, and what ensued was a 3 hour brilliant viewing session, but with only a few waves of my own, which were met with unwanted results of not getting the barrel of a lifetime, but being too slow on the draw. I was humbled, massively, on a perfect morning of pumping surf that saw many get dream waves.

Immediately, I felt a sense of empathy for those who were in my spot - normal folk, you might say. Those who needed to work a bit more to be in the right shape and frame of mind to do challenging things. Surfing big waves of consequence was never a fear of mine, and it’s still not, but there was an element of concern for maybe the first time.

Am I getting older? Yes. Maybe not in the shape I used to be? Possibly. But what struck me most is that I could have prepared better. Along with empathy for the everyday man and woman, I felt that I let myself down (a common internal dialogue) and that I knew better.

At this stage of my life, I am being blessed with the experience of being normal, when a part of me always thought I could bypass this field. The usual parenting challenges, life challenges, some lacklustre performances in the surf and a genuine sense of just being a bit out of shape.

This is a positive, for me, as I see it revive in me my desire to teach, to share and to help people, most importantly myself, as I have always wanted to be at fighting fit readiness for life, and a bit of that has slipped away. Nwe I can feel what this “Normal” thing is all about, I can better navigate back to where I once was, and have a better understanding of how to help others along this path.

Thank you for sharing these thoughts with me, in a way, this week has been about me processing them into words so that I can evolve myself and my offerings, but I sincerely appreciate any eyes and ears that have shared these sentiments.

And so it is, with love.

PS: In light of recent events, and in the realising that I feel more connected when in service, I have decided to team up with a dear brother and offer my first immersion in a long time. Save the date for 20-22 September for a small group of humans who wish to join me, more details soon.