Fluctuation Happens: The Yoga of Doubt

“Yoga is bullshit.” I realized not long ago that some part of me felt that way. I wasn’t consciously thinking that of course. But I had noticed that my “yoga practice” had fallen off precipitously. Even though I had been practicing for over fifteen years and teaching for a decade, suddenly I wasn’t doing any asana, kriya, or pranayama. I was still meditating every morning for 30 minutes but I had even stopped doing puja beforehand. I was still teaching public classes. Even though nobody respects a yoga teacher who isn’t practicing, I was feeling during that time that my public classes were better than ever—more inspired and really reaching people. During this period my classes were my anchor, a great reminder that I don’t practice for myself as much as I practice to share the freeing power of yoga with others. 

Maybe you’ve experienced this slowing down or doubt too. You suddenly question why you’re practicing yoga. You may have asked yourself, What’s the point? Why not just enjoy life?  Maybe you had a bad experience with yoga, or a teacher. I’ve certainly had a few. I’m sure many members of the Kundalini Yoga / Yogi Bhajan community are feeling confused and disillusioned right now. Or maybe other things in your life seemed more important. Maybe your practice plateaued and you didn’t know how to take it to the next level. I’ve certainly had that experience, especially with asana. (Thankfully I found Sattva and other more advanced practices when I hit a wall with asana. But that’s a story for another day.)

If some part of your yoga practice starts to feel like an obligation then you should definitely stop doing it. You can take a break. It’s okay. You have my permission. Sure, sometimes you have to practice tapaha and burn through tamasic (stagnant) energy. But sometimes you have to honor and acknowledge your process and any underlying emotional issues that are driving your doubt and disillusionment (see below). 

Fluctuation happens. As your consciousness evolves on the spiritual path, you’re bound to backslide. It’s natural. It’s okay. It’s human. (My friend Candace wants to put FLUCTUATION HAPPENS on a bumper sticker. I think it would sell really well, although do people still buy bumper stickers?) 

HAD I REALLY STOPPED PRACTICING?

Had I really stopped practicing yoga, though? Upon closer inspection I realized that I hadn’t. Yoga is so much broader than just postural yoga or even energetic practices (as I’ve talked about elsewhere). Maybe I had stopped reading yoga texts but I was still studying myself intensely (Patanjali’s svadhyaya). And I was still applying the practices of discernment, non-attachment, and other yogic skills discussed in the Bhagavad Gita, the Yoga Sutras, and the Upanishads. I was still thinking like a yogi, and seeking the truth no matter the cost. 

FEELING YOUR FEELINGS IS THE MOST YOGIC PRACTICE

When I experienced this shift in my practice, I took the opportunity to get very quiet and leave plenty of space in my daily schedule, to listen deeply. And I worked with my business coach on identifying what was behind it. Despite having done years of inner child work and other healing, we identified some fairly substantial emotional causes that were triggered by the events of the past year or two: Pieces of anger, disillusionment, disappointment that hadn’t been released or integrated through therapy or plant medicine. I encountered a tender and hurt inner child. This made me realize that I had been pushing too hard for too long without stopping to notice how I was feeling deep inside. So I started taking the time and space to just feel my feelings. It became a daily practice. Some mornings I would just cry my way through meditation. After all, one description of meditation is that it’s just being fully with yourself in a state of total acceptance. And that’s what I was doing, to the best of my ability. (Too many people think meditation is all about reaching a state of no-thought. That’s actually quite advanced. For most of us, meditation is just being with yourself, fully.)

The more I teach yoga, the more I feel that teaching yoga is ultimately allowing your students to know and more freely feel how they’re feeling. If yoga is about experiencing greater value of truth and liberation then one could argue that fully feeling your feelings is the most yogic practice. In my opinion, learning to be with painful emotions so you can let them go should not only be your highest priority, it is the definition of being a mature adult, and the solution to all the problems facing humanity today. 

So I hadn’t stopped doing yoga at all. I had simply stopped doing as much asana, kriya, and pranayama as I normally do. And I was wise or intuitive enough to listen to that need instead of forcing myself to practice through my doubt and loss of interest, as a few of my teachers probably would have recommended. 

CONCLUSION

The fall of these famous and revered yoga teachers and gurus—whether it’s Bikram Choudhury or Pattabhi Jois or Yogi Bhajan—is a potent reminder that we must learn to listen to ourselves, our own inner guru. In fact, that’s what the practice of yoga does: it provides you with the intuition, discernment, wisdom, and clarity to know what is truly evolutionary and what isn’t. You follow teachers to a point, until they stop saying anything new or you outgrow them in the course of your own spiritual evolution.  

There’s a time for practicing a lot even when you don’t feel like it and there’s a time for slowing down or focusing on other, more subtle aspects of the practice. And it’s yoga that gives you the discernment to know when to do one or the other. As the Taoists would say, never force anything. Instead, practice Wu Wei by listening to what life is asking of you and letting it lead the way once in a while. 

So let your yoga practice pour out of you like a dance. Approach it like a date with your lover. If you’re diligent and working towards some goal, that’s wonderful. But if your practice has evaporated to a trickle, that’s okay too. I promise that the snows will melt and you will once again find your practice flowing like a gurgling stream full of fish, with colorful birds skimming its surface. 

The only way out is through.