Have you ever done a long-term activity that you don’t like and that feels pointless and maybe even a little destructive, but you’ve stuck with it because people keep telling you that it will improve your life somehow? That it’s good for you mentally and/or physically, even though you can’t feel it? Whenever you express bad feelings about it, they will tell you that your attitude is proof that you haven’t really understood what the “point” is and it’s a sign you need to keep going? And so you stick with it because you want to see if they are right?
I’m in this situation now with yoga. It is starting to feel both pointless and detrimental to my ego. I go every Saturday and practice by myself throughout the week. I’m proud of my discipline, but then again, I have never been a slouch when it comes to self-discipline. So this isn’t an area that has ever needed improvement.
I keep waiting for those intangible goodies that everyone attributes to yoga to flow my way, and after a year of practice, I am growing sad that they have not arrived. I am sad that it like this for me, because everyone always talks about how much they love it and how good it is. But I can’t feel any of it. I just feel the bad things that the practice of yoga is supposed to reduce–like embarrassment and frustration. People tell me I’m not “supposed” to feel these things, which makes me feel like I’m not doing it right and that I’m failing to understand the very basics, that I haven’t swallowed my ego enough. Which just makes me feel guilty and ashamed. So that’s why I stick with it. Not because I want to do it, but because quitting would indicate weakness of personality and ego.
Maybe I would feel better to hear similar experiences from others? I am not as depressed as I probably sound, but it is bothering me that I am so ambivalent about what to do.
Well, let me back up. Two years ago I joined the fire department in hopes of becoming a firefighter, but I had to go through Level One and EMS training prior to being eligible for fire school. Then I had to train for the CPAT, which is the physical fitness entrance exam to get into fire school. So by the time classes started, I had been eagerly anticipating school for a long time and all my friends knew how excited and determined I was.
Class made me miserable. It took me longer to grasp the things we were learning than it took my classmates. I didn’t like being blindfolded and hated having to breathe through an SCBA. I got horribly dehydrated wearing the fire suit out in the July heat wave, and I especially hated when we had to do physical exertion exercises until our oxygen tanks ran out. These classes were Tuesday and Thursday nights, and all day Saturday and Sunday, with homework in between. Did I mention I had a full time job, too?
Because I wasn’t grasping the concepts, I was requiring extra attention from the instructors, who told me I needed to practice outside of class. You know, with all the free time that I had.
I volunteer in a county that has full time career firefighters staffing all the stations 24/7, so volunteer firefighters are more of a nicety than a real necessity.
But the final straw was that I just didn’t want it badly enough anymore. When you face an incredibly difficult task, your eyes need to be on the prize, and you need to be convinced that the prize is worth your struggles. I reached the point where I no longer felt the prize was worth it, and thus it was pointless to continue, so I dropped out, and regained a social life, not to mention the time to go grocery shopping and do laundry.
My friends, having seen how badly I wanted this, put me through some severe guilt trips about how I was a quitter. Never mind that they’d never attempted anything involving being trapped in tight spaces, blindfolded, with instructors coming up behind you to cut off your oxygen supply so you’ll know how to react if you get in that situation accidentally. If it seems worth it, keep going. But if it’s not worth it, quit. Don’t let ignoramus friends make you feel bad. They mean well.
Monstro, have you considered that you’re expecting too much from one isolated thing? I go to yoga class 6 days a week; ignore the woo that’s in abundance, but apply myself to the actual physical challenge. I also run forty-plus miles a week. The yoga helps my flexibility for running, and I believe it helps my endurance for it too. But it has no effect on my brain wave function. For that I rely on the running.
The yoga classmates don’t run: some do zumba or spin or other gym stuff. I think the conviviality of those activities give them as much satisfaction as the exercise itself. Some of them also do meditation, lieing there on mats. I can’t get into that: the closest I’ll do is daydream as I run. As a non-spiritual, I value conversation over meditation as a boon to peace of mind, so I attend Alanon weekly. But i notice that the minute their meditation class is over, they do indeed start gabbing.
But my point is that nothing can be a value unto itself. A pursuit has to have a visualized goal. Any one activity has to have a connection to something else.
My opinion is that “discipline” is sticking to something that you know is good for you, both now and into the future. A disciplined person gets a sense of satisfaction out of their hard work or “good” behavior. They are goal-directed, but that’s not the only thing that motivates them to keep going.
I don’t think most disciplined people think what they are doing is pointless, even if it looks that way to an outsider.
If it’s pointless to you, stop doing it. Try another martial art. I think Tai Chi is the next step up. It’s very slow, and in my opinion, very yoga-ish.
I have been told by people, some on this board, that yoga isn’t about goals or accomplishments, but rather living in the moment and accepting whatever it presents. So at the end of class, I’m not supposed to rate myself against last week’s performance or compare myself to other students. I’m supposed to…I don’t know! I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. It seems like the feelings I have are “wrong” because they aren’t the positive ones that I’m supposed to be having.
The people who try to encourage me about yoga are very well-intentioned and I’m not slamming them. But I don’t think they understand the difference between having the wrong attitude and simply not being able to find pleasure (or contentment or whatever) in certain kinds of pain. I wonder if they found yoga to be as hard as I do, if they would still be able to have the “right” attitude. Maybe it’s easy to have the right mindset when the mountain pose is just another pose and not something you still struggle with after a year of practice?
Please take this as it is intended: entirely supportive and friendly, merely pointing out what seems blindingly self-evident to me but is apparently not to you.
Having established that you are a person with good self-discipline, I am at a loss as to how you arrive at the idea that quitting would indicate weakness of personality and ego.
However, continuing to spend the most precious thing we have in life, time, doing something from which you derive no pleasure or benefit purely because other people might judge you as weak or ego-driven strikes me as a fantastic example of actually being incredibly weak and ego-driven.
Monstro,
Are you looking for an end state? You seem to be a person who sets goals, and the problem with Yoga and Tai Chi (Both of which I have practiced, making me what the Tao Te Ching would call a middle person) is that the practice IS the goal! Doing it is the end state. A great mind once was asked what enlightenment felt like; his reply was , “My kids drive me nuts, my wife nags me and my feet hurt…” I know I always felt lighter walking out of my Tai Chi class than when I went in. Stay with the Yoga if you find lightness at the end of it, but if not try something new.
I like doing yoga. I used to like to also run and daydream alot like that other poster, but I hurt my foot and also got very busy, so I feel like the low-impactness and also the calming effects of yoga are big plusses.
I can’t figure out how yoga actually works or what exactly is so interesting about it. I’ve been going for maybe 5 years now- rarely more than 3 times a week and sometimes not for a month at a time- and found it to be pretty hard for most of that time. Sometimes ass-kicking hard. And it still can be. But for me that’s ok, and if I really can’t handle it I know I can just sit down for a minute.
I don’t think there is something particular you are ‘supposed’ to feel. My instructors always say to just watch what comes up, let it come up, then let it go on it’s own. At least 20 times per class they remind us to keep our attention focused on our breath. Often they warn us: this is going to ‘bring up’ something. If it is something like Camel Pose, they are very specific- you may get nauseous, you may feel panic, and go ahead and just observe those feelings, or do ____ with them, I can’t think of a specific example right now. Sometimes they are more general, “This may bring something up for xyz reason, just keep focusing on your breath.” They are like a bunch of Babe Ruths about this, calling their shots and then following through, class after class after class. I don’t know how they do it, it is just nuts.
Sometimes all this inspires all kinds of odd ruminations or even imagery for me, which I think is great. Sometimes I pretty much zen out and am surprised I could calm down so much, which I then think is great. I’m always calmed-down afterwards, my skin seems to glow and I feel pretty good. It makes me want to jump my gf’s bones.
Recently I had a yoga class that involved pranayama, one part of yoga that I had thought was completely a waste of time. I definitely always had to just endure that part- it is the easiest thing there is, but seemed pointless and made me feel like a really dopey new-age hippie. Maybe you read what I posted on here, anyway this time the extra focus on the pranayama triggered a really crushing realization for me and I am still depressed and even fighting with my gf. I’m mad but I know I can’t stay mad enough to fight off the depression this time, I am going to go over the edge and be miserable for a little while. Guess what? I think that doing more yoga would help me feel better.
I am not exaggerating at all. It isn’t a religious thing with me but it is very interesting, stimulating, and a good workout. Psychologically active too.
I guess my advice is to stop rating your feelings about/during yoga. They come, they go. Stop rating your performance. Yoga really isn’t a competition. However your body does it is how it is done. But if you just don’t like it, maybe it is not your thing. I am very not regimented about my practice. No schedule, I go when I can. I only worry about wasting my money if I don’t go very often. Maybe take a break or even don’t do it if you don’t like it.
Monstro, do you relate to the idea of striving to be fully present? I don’t do yoga but I assume for a variety of reasons that many people find it an excellent means of achieving being present. Perhaps that is what you are missing?
You’ve certainly stuck with it for a while. If you don’t feel you’re benefiting (in a noticeable way, not just ‘I’m sure it’s making me a better person’), then by all means find something else. If the positive results haven’t kicked in by now, there’s probably not a lot to be gained by continuing to bang your head against the wall.
I get that yoga is something that most practitioners find satisfaction in, but we’re all different. Personally I’ve never understood other people’s desire to listen to music. I enjoy the challenge of playing classical music, but much prefer silence when in the car or working on something. I’ve had numerous friends try to ‘cure’ me, they’re so sure that if I just hear the bands that they like that suddenly it’ll all make sense to me and I’ll become a fan. Nope, it’s just not something that drives me the way it seems to drive other people. I’m okay with that.
And hey, if you decide maybe there is something to yoga after all, you can always start again later. Go explore some other options, maybe you’ll find whatever it is that you’re looking for somewhere else.
Monstro, I must have misread your OP. I thought you had been suckered into a Multi Level Marketing scheme, but then you mentioned it was yoga. Now yoga is different because the yoga instructors don’t indoctrinate their students to go out and recruit new members with some kind of esoteric but indefinite come on about future rewards. And if it isn’t working for you they don’t tell you that…wait, this doesn’t make sense. You definitely wrote ‘yoga’, but are describing MLM. It couldn’t be something as innocent and pointless and profitable to instructors and yoga gear suppliers as yoga is actually some kind of scam could it? Nah, couldn’t be that.
If you have no goals or accomplishments in mind when you are doing anything then why are you doing it? (Even when I take a shit I have a purpose. To get rid of that shit.) These people are doo-doo heads. Anyone doing yoga is doing it for a reason/goal/accomplishment. Whether it is to be more stretchy/healthy/peace-of-mind-ishy there is a reason.
That sounds like fun.
“Here I am bending over in a hot fucking room with a bunch of other sweaty people bending over like me with my legs and calves hurting like fuck because of all this “stretching” and “fuck I just farted and I hope that is sweat running down between my cheeks and not poo” but fuck at least I am here stretching”
I’d rather not live in “that” moment. I’d rather be “in the moment” of puppies and kittens.
See above.
[Achieving being present] I’m bending over. [/Achieving being present]
I’d never thought of it this way. Of course people are motivated by something when they do yoga…because otherwise people would not do it. I started off wanting to improve my balance, which seemed to me to be a reasonable goal. But in order to assess incremental progress, you have to compare yourself against yourself, which everyone I’ve talked to says is a big no-no. Maybe I’m too “Western” but this makes no sense to me. A part of me thinks people are forgetting that yoga is a religious discipline, which means–by definition–there is something you’re supposed to working for by doing it. I can stare at a blank wall all day and “be present.”
I understand the “live in the moment” philosophy because that’s pretty much how I live. I don’t dwell on the future much, and I have done a good job of keeping myself from reliving the past too. The effect is that I’m a very good laidback robot. No worries, but nothing to look forward to either. And vague and boring too. Today people will ask me if I have plans for the weekend and I will say the exact same thing I said last week. “No, not really.” Not that I won’t do something this weekend, but why should I be planning so far into the future?
Learning how to live in the moment is good if you’re constantly stressed out and focused on problems. But I don’t think that’s an area that everyone needs to improve. Nor do I think it’s a panacea for all of life’s sadness. If it’s the moment that’s bringing you down, then that doesn’t center you or bring peace. It just makes you think of ways to escape.
I appreciate you holding up the mirror and making me think. I can see how the two messages may seem contradictory, but I don’t think they are.
I know I don’t give up easily. Even when I started yoga and truly hated it (I hadn’t been hardened then), I knew I wasn’t going to give up. And while I like that I can work so doggedly, I understand that that alone is not virtuous. Workaholics are proud of themselves for working hard as well. But they tend to be ineffective workers, driven by neuroticism.
Someone with good self-discipline can still be weak when it comes to the really hard stuff. I am disciplined when it comes to walking, because walking is both relaxing and invigorating for me. But my discipline to clean up my house is much weaker, even though I do enjoy when everything is clean. But I am lazy when it comes to self-care and organization. This is a weakness.
Also, I am not worried about people judging me as weak. I’m not doing yoga because of other people, but rather because I trust people when they tell me to keep going. If I quit, I will worry that perhaps that I was too willful or stupid to learn those things that everyone else has learned. I know no one else will even notice if I quit.
As I said, the woo is abundant in yoga, and I’ve learned to keep a respectful and decidedly un-Doper silence. I’ve often considered starting a thread “Yoga and Its Discontents,” but I won’t attempt to hijack this thread for that.
In brief; I could just have easily wandered into a martial arts dojo as a yoga studio, and would have been given the same “this is the best thing a human being can do for himself” spiel.
But yoga isn’t for everyone. Even for the majority of people, doing it three times a week, and up to the difficulty-level that they honestly are willing to reach for, is just fine.
The “non-competition” thing is bullshit: anyone who can do one-handed crow with cow-crossed legs is plenty impressed by him or herself. I’ve seen a* lot *more “I’m so sublime that stunned birds fall from the sky” among the yoga masters than “aw shucks, 'twernt nuthin!”
And if walking instead of yoga (BTW, another area of disagreement between my yoga instructor and me) is what you really like to do, then by all means do that. Join a walker’s meetup.
Self-discipline is a measure of self-respect. But it’s doesn’t require self-flaggelation.
I guess for me it is a good excuse to do meditation, something I don’t really understand. I just follow along and lo and behold, the unceasing river of words flowing through my head at pretty much all times shuts up for awhile. I feel like this effect makes me smarter as I become less distracted. Maybe your head isn’t filled with chatter?
I think a lot of these things go for “it only works if you semi-enjoy it.”
Lots of people say how much working out makes them feel great and they have so much energy, yada yada.
I don’t get that feeling. I always hate working out. I don’t feel great later, and I don’t have more energy later. (this is after doing it for months). I just feel rotten and tired.
They say all sorts of things about how using dogs for “therapy” lowers blood pressure, etc. Well, that only works if you LIKE dogs. If you are scared to death of dogs, it is not going to make you feel better.
Yoga is going to help you more if you eventually begin to enjoy it to some degree.
