There's always some point in my practice when I think, "That's enough. I'm done with this pose. I don't need to go any further. Inhale. Lift. Come out of it." But, am I truly finished? For myself, I notice a pattern where once I get to the point I perceive I'm supposed to be in an asana, I think, "Score! Dunzo! Time to move on!" In recent times, though, I've been trying to recognize that thought process, let it go, and sink deeper into the flow or mudra that I'm in, allowing my body, breath and heart to unfold even further in that spot.

I kind of shudder to think how this pattern manifests off the mat, but this being yoga, there's really not another option. My family moved around a lot when I was kid, so much so that, until high school, I was never in the same school for more than two years in a row. Great importance was placed on the next adventure, partly, I think, as a way to ease the natural sorrows of leaving somewhere comfortable. I'd venture to say these experiences during my formative years left a mark on my psyche that contributes to the belief about moving on once something is "achieved."

I know I'm also not alone. How often do any of us think we have something and then we're done with it? Our entire culture is a disposable one. My father still talks about the day when Bic pens came into vogue and the throw-away concept was born. What are we so afraid of in terms of commitment and staying with something?

For much of my life, my own fear has been about "missing out" on the "greatest opportunity of my life," because I'm stuck in the present situation. This applied to jobs, homes, relationships - everything. I was terrified of not actualizing my potential, because I wasn't where I was supposed to be at the right time. Since coming to yoga, I've begun to learn that what's around the bend is completely out of my control, and the right here-right now is all that matters. In that case, why not go deeper into that Ardha Chandrasa or stay in pigeon for another breath...and another...oooooh, and one more.

I've been working my own mantra laterly, which is "Do It or Don't." Sometimes when I sit down to meditate, I'll think, "Oh, I don't have time for the full round. I need to do blah, blah, blah." A perfect time for the "Do It or Don't" mantra. Sit down and meditate or bake cookies. If you're going to commit, commit. Same with my practice, the laundry, calling a friend (oh, I hope I get her answering machine so I don't have to talk to her - "Do It or Don't"), or any of the other hundred choices I make each day. None of this is said punitively. It's just a simple recognition that we're either in the moment or we're pretending not to be.

Growing up in the Star Wars generation, I remember in The Empire Strikes Back how Luke Skywalker went to see Yoda. I clearly remember the aged master telling the young disciple, "There is no try. Only do." I was so angry at this, and even when I saw it as a teen or in my 20s, I thought, "Fuck you, Yoda. Trying is important. It shows we're attempting to work it out and make it happen."

Now I think my reaction was more because I thought "doing" was synonymous with my notion of success, yet what is that success really? In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna says to Arjuna, "On this path, there is no failure." That's because walking the path is the goal. The same goes for Yoda's comment to Luke. And the same goes for my own distillation of all this for myself. 

Do It or Don't.