confidence – The VeganAsana

A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings.
Alone must it seek the ether.
And alone and without its nest shall the eagle fly across the sun
~Kahlil Gibran

Sometimes it’s easy to let your voice be heard, and sometimes it’s not. Where those moments appear is different for each person, and even changes for each person over the life course – from time to time, from relationship to relationship, from setting to setting, from topic to topic, and so on.

Photo by Yugenro

We spent a lot of time with ourselves (all of it, right?), so we may think that we know what kind of instances are easy for us to find our voices and what kind of instances are difficult. But, as with everything in life, sometimes there are surprises.

I’m, to put it bluntly, a big mouth. I have thoughts about most everything and I’m usually not afraid to share them, in written form or oral. Friends who have met me online before meeting me face to face have been surprised that I’m not bigger than I am and that my voice isn’t deeper, because my “voice” in terms of being forceful in my communication is strong. This week, however, I had two different specific experiences where I felt like I lost my voice. One fell into the category of a predictable loss, while the other was quite unexpected.

The first event related to my job. I found myself needing to support someone’s right to speak an unpopular opinion. Being a communication scholar, I’m rather fond of the First Amendment, so I would have not expected it to be difficult for me to find my voice about this issue. But, because the opinion that had been expressed was very counter to my own beliefs, it was shockingly difficult, and even more so because what I needed to say went against the reactions of some others in the organization. It was tricky and I noticed that, though I would begin an interaction with some degree of confidence, I kept quickly losing my voice and really needing to work to find it. Interesting.

The second experience was more expected for me. I love music, a lot. But, I don’t sing. I was told at an early age that I’m tone deaf, and though I don’t even really fully understand what that means, it has become a part of my understanding of myself. I also had a friend, who I love dearly, tell me a few years ago that I sound like Minnie Mouse. The combination of those two things has pretty much assured that I will never sing in public. I don’t karaoke. I don’t sing happy birthday at a party (unless I can basically just talk the words). I don’t sing the alma mater at university events. I do not sing in public, with the exception of at rock concerts where it is so loud that I know no one can hear me. Thus, I was not shocked to find it extremely difficult to find my voice for chanting in Sanskrit during yoga teacher training. I could hear the rhythm and the words in my head very clearly, but as soon as I opened my mouth, the voice that came out was soft and timid and very unsure. Over the course of the class, I got more comfortable chanting with the group (again, hard to hear my voice mixed in with the others) but when time came for me to lead a chant, my voice disappeared again.

Having a voice, not necessarily in the physical sense but in the psychological/relational sense, is important in our well being and in our relationships in the world. When we butt up against obstacles in finding our voices, we need to think about what is keeping us from finding that voice and what we can do to set it free. For these two events, I’m pretty sure that the issue is my worry about how others will perceive me. I know it, but I haven’t been able to let it go – yet.

Where do you lose your voice? What do you think causes it? What are you “doing” about it?

Namaste,

During class this morning, Erik, the instructor, focused our attention on the yama of Asteya. Asteya is the principle of non-stealing. Now, there are obvious implications to this form of self-restraint. We should not steal others’ belongings; we should not steal others’ ideas; we should not take more than we need. But, my thoughts went to the less obvious forms of stealing that we engage in and should avoid. We should not steal attention or admiration due to jealousy. We should not steal the self-esteem of others by belittling or degrading them. We should not steal the good name of others through libel or slander. And, we should not steal from ourselves.

What do we steal from ourselves? Well, I know that, in my case, sometimes I steal from myself the opportunity to change or grow. W.E.B. Du Bois is quoted as saying:

The most important thing to remember is this: To be ready at any moment to give up what you are for what you might become.

But, do most of us do this? I suspect we do not. When we are very little, and the world of opportunity seems open before us, we allow ourselves to change and grow with every moment. As we get older, we start to learn the expectations that others have of us (based on factors like gender, socioeconomic status, race, ethnicity, family role, etc.) and begin to let those expectations box us into a narrow range of possibility.

Over time, having learned to believe that our possibilities are limited, we begin to stop even trying anything new. But, once we do this, we fall into a rut of being, where the self cannot grow. Growth requires change, and risk taking. This stealing of opportunity and growth from ourselves may sometimes be about relatively minor things – we refuse to try new food, because we already “know” that we won’t like it – or major life choices – we don’t apply for a job that we desire, because we are certain that we will not be hired. We may not acknowledge to ourselves why we aren’t taking these risks, and come up with excuses for remaining the same (“I don’t have time to take that art class,” “yoga classes are too expensive,” “I don’t have enough patience to get a degree”), but often the underlying reason is a fear of failure, because we have learned to box ourselves and our opportunities in, and believe that we cannot succeed outside of that box.

After my yoga practice today, I reflected that I often steal from myself the opportunity to grow in my practice by assuming that I cannot succeed at a particular pose. This was true of wheel pose when I first began yoga. I wouldn’t even try it, because it seemed impossible. Now, having prodded myself into taking the risk, I still feel remnants of the

Image from yoga-guru.info

“I can’t” belief every time the pose comes up in class. More recently, I struggled with forcing myself to give inversions a try. I practiced yoga for a few years before I ever tried to get into handstand or headstand, even with the help of a wall. While I’m still working on those poses, and still feel some degree of fear about them, I also have learned that I love inversions. If I had continued to steal that opportunity from myself, I never would have realized this. Now I need to work on arm balance… I have a tendency to immediately go mentally to a “I’m not strong enough” place when arm balance poses appear in the practice. But, I know that I have to give myself this opportunity or I’ll never know what may happen, so I’m working on pushing those negative and constraining thoughts away.

What opportunities do you steal from yourself by assuming you cannot succeed?

Tag Archives: confidence

Losing Your Voice

Stealing from Yourself