Want Only What Is Yours

This morning I drove to hot yoga class before sunrise.  It was my first time, and I’d made the decision shortly before going to bed, so there wasn’t much time for neurosis about this new experience.  Driving, I found myself saying a mantra that I’ve been repeating a lot lately, Want Only What Is Yours.

This first came up after a stab of envy over a display of Rachel Hollis’ new book in the central aisle at Target (and the accompanying image of millions of dollars flowing her way).  It’s well known that Hollis wrote several books that sold poorly and that her last two best-selling books are the result of classic persistence paying off.  I do believe envy is human, and it’s there to show us the things that our souls want most, so there is always a lesson in it.  Nonetheless, I was grateful for the immediate feeling that rose up and sublimated the envy.  “That is not mine.”  Part of walking my own divine path is gratitude for the blessings that are uniquely mine.  Indulging energy wishing for a blessing of someone else’s takes me out of that space.

Back to yoga.  I climbed three flights of stairs without breathlessness.  I introduced myself to strangers without anxiety.  I immensely enjoyed stretching my always flexible, leaner-than-it-has-ever-been body.  I appreciated the teacher speaking about the love and thanks we should send to our bodies, because of all they do for us.  It was totally congruent with my message here, and eerily similar to words I’d typed on this blog just yesterday.

The only negative moments?  The chatter in my head about more experienced classmates who were getting into the poses with less effort.  I could hold most of the poses once I understood them.  I still struggle with the discomfort of not knowing.  I didn’t need to feel I was doing yoga perfectly, only that I was competent in understanding what was being asked.  That inner critic took me out of the flow a few times.

Want Only What Is Yours took me right back.  I was drawn to this particular class and I came for an experience that was uniquely for me.  No need to look around and compare.  No need to criticize.  I closed the class filled with gratitude for all the ways I’ve learned to trust my body, honor my spirit, and enjoy my life.