The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.
JOSEPH CAMPBELL
What is a real yogi?
When I ask my students in teacher trainings this question, here’s what they say:
A real yogi is . . .
Serene
Peaceful
Compassionate
Open
Embracing
Loving
Patient
Kind
Vegetarian
Fit
Flexible
Enlightened
A “real yogi” conceals their imperfections. They hide the fact that they’re messy, that they lose their patience with their kids or curse when they get stuck in traffic, that they eat pizza. A “real yogi” certainly never lets others see they are flawed, and says things like “I accept you” and, of course, “Namaste.”
But to me, real yogis are not defined by these things. Sure, they may embody some of these qualities, but more often than not, one who is striving to be a “real yogi” is hiding behind that persona. The problem with the myth of the real yogi is that it ends up being a mask that keeps us separated from who we truly are and, very often, the things we want most in life. It leaves us with the sensation of being not quite comfortable in our own skin and robs us of authentic confidence and genuine, heart-to-heart relationships.
I’ve been around the yoga world long enough to be fluent in the language I call yoga-nese. You know: that flowery peace, love, and granola compassion stuff that is almost always a big facade. Believe me, I’ve seen some pretty shocking stuff under those facades! These people are like pirate ships waving the white peace flag, all conciliatory, but then, if you accidentally cross them, WHOOSH . . . out come the mental swords and verbal daggers and before you know it, you’re walking the emotional gangplank.
I see a real yogi as someone who is committed to growth and to being the best version of themselves, and, at the same time, is courageous enough to be fully present and authentic in each moment. Someone who is not afraid to get real about the whole mess of who they are—the good, the bad, and the ugly; someone who can be open and own that they get depressed, stressed out, pissed off; that they sometimes yell at their spouse; that they watch television, drink coffee, eat bacon. Please don’t misunderstand: I’m not advocating that anyone be any specific way. It’s just important to acknowledge who we are in all our forms and personal expressions, even if sometimes those forms are not how we’d like ourselves to be.
Why? Because hiding behind a mask costs us so much and leaves us with so little. On the surface, we may look polished and “perfect,” but hiding our true self in all its dimensions saps our life energy and robs us of the freedom to express ourselves genuinely, from the heart. Hiding leaves you with the experience of feeling splintered and having lost yourself. You can have the fabulous yoga outfit; know the name of every pose in Sanskrit; and even have a beautiful, super-flexible, strong practice. But the real question to ask is “Where are you in all of that?” And, even more, “What is hiding behind all those trappings costing you?”
So many of us hide. We hide behind our accomplishments, our degrees, our bank balance, our carefully cultivated public personas. Greg, a student of mine who came to a teacher training in upstate New York, shared his experience of hiding that I think hits home for so many people. Greg is a highly successful executive who runs a well-known tech company. By his own description, he has a beautiful wife, three wonderful kids, a big house, lots of friends, and enough money to never have to work another day in his life if he chooses. In his community as well as at work, he’s known as someone who gets things done. On the surface, by Greg’s own admission, his life looks perfect.
Underneath all that, though (no surprise), Greg is a mess. He has every symptom of stress you can imagine: stomach problems, anxiety, insomnia, and more. Though he appreciates all the comforts he has, he feels like a slave to his lifestyle and the persona he’s created. As he put it, “I put one hundred percent of my energy into keeping all the balls up in the air, making sure that everyone thinks well of me. But I’m exhausted. Sometimes I look at my beautiful wife and kids and have the sense of missing them, even when they’re right next to me. I’ve lost sense of what matters to me . . . what I like to do.”
I asked Greg: “So what is all this hiding costing you?” Without missing a beat, he responded, “The life I actually want. Love. Connection. Joy. Freedom. But no more. I realized right this second that I want those things much more than anything my lifestyle can give me.”
As he said those words, every single one of us in the room (and I mean myself, 10 of my staff, and 250 other yogis) witnessed his entire energy transform right in front of our eyes. The heaviness dissipated from his body and lifted from his face as he relaxed into the lightness, brightness, and ease that comes from dropping the mask, opening the heart, and being oneself.
There’s no fulfillment in looking the part or talking the talk—in real life or in yoga practice. So forget being a “real yogi” and just be the yogi you are. Be simple, open, and straightforward about what matters to you and what you are working on. The true reward of yoga practice comes when we are courageous enough to step out from behind that mask and expose our brilliant, flawed, utterly human selves. No covering up, no apologizing—just taking responsibility for it all.
If there are things you don’t like about the yogi that you are, that’s okay. Owning them frees you to do the work to change those things. Being straight up with yourself about where you are being inauthentic creates an opening to direct your life energies toward what calls to you in your heart. Being open instead of closed is a way for you to discover your potential. Whenever you follow your potential you align to your true north, which energetically supports you in what you are up to in your life and practice. Whenever you go back into hiding and pretending, you go astray from your potential. You experience yourself shrinking for the simple reason that you are not being who you are destined to be, and who it is possible for you to be. You are being something else and thus experience the hollowness that comes from being someone you are not.
Embrace the naked truth of who and where you are in your practice and in your life. Hiding is secure, but life is about insecurity. Nothing is guaranteed. If your yoga is about really living fully, then you have to live at risk and in the danger that comes with being your open-book self. If you want to climb the highest peaks, then you have to take the risk of falling from somewhere, and perhaps the place to risk falling is from where you are right now. The pathway to authenticity demands courage, and with courage you can go to the places that scare you and risk falling down—although you will most likely surprise yourself and fly.