The Politics of Perfection by Eve Cunard

When I mention the word ‘yoga’, most people will think of physical poses, known in Sanskrit as asanas. Often, what comes to mind are advanced poses like headstands or complicated twists and binds. Or maybe the ubiquitous and inescapable sun salute? Yet, behind the social media facades, there is a whole unexplored realm of study.

Fewer people are aware of the spiritual aspect of yoga—that part of the discipline that distinguishes it from other forms of exercise like fitness training or Pilates. This might be because philosophical precepts are more difficult to teach, requiringsome contemplation. However, if we focus on the important principles behind yoga, it can shed a whole new light on the way we practice on our mats.

One of the foremost texts that yoga teachers are encouraged to read during our training is Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, thought to have been written more than 2000 years ago. It is like a handbook to a yogic life, incorporating ethical guidelines, mental disciplines and physical practices. Among these arethe Yamas (moral codes) and Niyamas (personal observances). These principles help elevate our spiritual growth, promote inner peace and can extend further to createa more harmonious and peaceful world.

The first Yama and a guiding principle for our practice, on and off the mat, is ahimsa. It is translated as non-violence or lack of cruelty or injustice. Much more than that, it also implies kindness, consideration and compassion in thought, deed and action towards ourselves and all living beings.

This concept is found in many Eastern religions and is based on an awareness of the web of interconnectedness between all life: humans, animals, plants and the planet. Harming any one of these has a ripple-effect on the whole.

So how does this most commonly play out for students in a yoga class? It’s in our behaviour towards ourselves. When we begin yoga, we all arrive at that first class with a lot of emotional baggage. It’s a result of the way we have been trained to treat our bodies at school or in competitive sports or disciplines. We also bring along our body image and self-confidence issues, family history and past physical traumas. The residues are all there inside us. And they tend to bubble to the surface as we practice yoga.

The concept of ahimsa —kindness to ourselves— can become a guiding beacon as we attempt overcome these hurdles. We can ask ourselves: ‘how can I create safety for myself and others?’

These are three practical ways we can apply ahimsa in class.

1. Resisting the urge to push ourselves beyond our limits

I can often spot the more competitive newbies because they are the students who are panting and groaning, holding poses until their bodies start shaking and breathing heavily. It is a battle. This is a natural result of mental conditioning when the drive to win and ‘no pain, no gain’ approach have been indelibly imprinted into our brains as children.

Yoga is a process of deprogramming as we let go of old ideas and discover new ways of moving, allowing and undoing. Instead of forcing our bodies or holding them rigidly, we find a lightness and softness that allows us to breathe and practice with far less effort.

We realise that we don’t have to hold a pose until we collapse and instead, we can explore it for a while, then rest and repeat. We learn to listen to our bodies and become more attuned to our own capabilities and changing needs.

Over-zealous stretching can also be a pitfall. When I began yoga, my hamstrings were stiff.  I expended so much time and effort on stretching these muscles that my attempts backfired. They remained tight and achy. I learned the hard way that when we stretch too far, our muscles tighten to protect themselves from tearing. Later, I also discoveredthat a safe stretch is felt in the belly of the muscle (which has more elastic fibres) rather than in the tendons (which are dense, collagenous and can be damaged by overstretching). When I eased back and chose to bend my knees in forward bends, these problems vanished and my hamstrings eventually became more flexible too. I just needed to be gentler with myself.

When we recognise our limits and pause, instead of feeling like we need to push through them, it is truly liberating.

2. Kinder and more compassionate self-talk (in voice and mind)

Negative self-talk is unfortunately quite common in daily life and often appears in seemingly light hearted self-deprecating humour. Comments like: ‘My arms are weak’ or ‘I have no core’ or even ‘my ugly tummy’ feel out of place in a yoga class. I always feel sad when I hear self-criticism from my students. Often, I will encourage that student to turn the negative comment into an affirmation, like: ‘my core is getting stronger every day’ or ‘I love and accept my body exactly as it is.’

Behind the words we utter aloud there often lurk ruminating self-critical thoughts. If we observe our mental patterns in a more detached way through meditation, we can start to notice and identify those thoughts. Under the spotlight of the observant mind, those thoughts have much more potential to change. It’s ahimsa from the inside.

3. Prioritising rest and self-care.

In our hyper-productive culture, excessive busyness interspersed with bursts of frantic fast-paced exercise are often the norm. This spins our nervous systems into overdrive. It can also translate into a form of yoga that focuses purely on achieving complex poses through more of a workout than a work-in.

More subliminally than we think, we often feel we need to work to the point of exhaustion to deserve rest. Yet truly, we should be able to enjoy rest without shame. A slow flow is not less valuable than a fast, sweaty vinyasa. A luxurious Yin or restorative pose is one of the greatest gifts of self-love we can give ourselves. And a long savasana at the end of class is essential.

4. Letting go of perfectionism

I believe the underlying theme driving overtly or even subtly self-destructive behaviour, which is the antithesis to ahimsa, is the quest for perfection. We should remind ourselves that despite what we might see in books or in images, there is no perfect pose. And there is no perfectly symmetrical body. Each of us is beautifully different and unique and should practice yoga in a way that is tailored to our own needs.  

Using blocks or blankets to support your body and make it more comfortable is not a sign of weakness or imperfection. It means you are practising with ahimsa. Why should we need to suffer in a yoga class?

We may notice that the Warrior 3 pose we practised last week or yesterday might be totally different to the wobbly and skew version we find ourselves in today. That is not regression, but a sign that we are changing constantly, momentarily. If we approach each pose with self-acceptance and release our attachment to results and outcomes, our yoga becomes a completely different experience. We can approach our bodies with curiosity and interest, notice our tendencies without judgement and gently nudge our limits without pushing through them.

Let’s not beat ourselves up for ‘under achievement’. Then yoga becomes another source of pressure with its list of tickboxes next to poses we want to perfect. In the words of Vanda Scaravelli, ‘Do not kill the instinct of the body for the glory of the pose.’

Remember that we are perfect in all our imperfection: with our monkey minds, aches and pains, moods and wobbles. When our yoga is infused with ahimsa, that kind of self-acceptance is finally possible. Once we have understood the principle in regard to ourselves, we can then choose to extend this quality of kindness and compassion from our yoga mats out into the world.