Nothin to prove, Nothin to prove.
I was once as miserable as you.
Nothin to prove, nothin to prove.
I've got nothin to prove.
Those lines are from a great little song by Jill Sobule. Go there and download some of her songs. They even have a sort-of live album available for download at the moment. (I was at that show--good show.) Really, go--I'll be here when you get back.
It doesn't seem likely that she'll ever record Nothing to Prove, except live, but those lines have become my yoga mantra.
Until last week, I was off the mat for over 2 months wile I was settling in to the new job. My first few times back have been challenge, but they haven't been frustrating.
As the fat girl in yoga class, I used to feel that if I was having trouble with a pose, I must look like a walrus, flopping clumsily on the beach. And I worried that when I didn't do certain poses because of my bad knees, back and neck, the other yoginis would think that it was because of my weight.
After a few years, though, I started to realize that we all had some yoga-related limitation. You see enough skinny women whose shoulders are too tight for them to hold their arms at certain angles, and you realize that hardly anyone can do every single thing the teacher says. There were plenty of times where I looked up and spotted a pretty young thing who could barely hold Triangle pose. At moments like that, I'd even allow myself a feeling of superiority.
Another year or so after that, and I even stopped looking at the others in class and making comparisons. It took a conscious effort, but it helped me get perspective. I wasn't there to be the most flexible, or to prove that the big girls can keep up. I was there to get my workout and to get my regular dose of whatever it is that helps me keep my head on straight.
It's been easy to remember that, these first few classes back. I had that song stuck in my head for the entire class tonight.
When I discovered that my hips had gone as far as they were going to tonight,
when I had to rest instead of doing the 30th vinyasa of the evening,
when I had twisted as much as I can and it wasn't that much...
Well, fuck you kid, I got nothing to prove.