The unbearable lightness of being wrong

Test, test…is this thing on?

Oh bloggery, how I’ve missed thee. Late winter/early spring 2009 will forever go down in the Sjanz Annals as The Time When I Truly Was Too Busy With My Career, for the first time ever. I used to think I had raised laziness to a high and nuanced art, and pondered the impassable gulf between my own nuanced laziness and those described as “workaholics”; I didn’t DO anything about it, I just pondered it.

I think it was when M plaintively pointed out that we hadn’t had a day off together in a month and a half that I was brought up short. Today is that day: we are watching Much More Retro [np: Parachute Club, fo realz]. I am tempted to either prepare my business statement, embark on a cavalcade of dusting, reply to a technically finite yet uncountable number of unresolved emails and Facebook messages, address the mounting pile of handwashing-and-mending that has come to obscure most of the bedroom floor, watch and critique any one of the last 5 videotaped classes I’ve prepared, take my bike to the shop, deadhead and weed the garden since it has made up its mind that spring is already here whether I’ve pruned and prepared for it or not…need I go on? Once you start doing things, it’s hard to stop. I. Will. Stop.

And once you stop baring your soul on the Internet, it’s hard to START again. The floodgates were open, from the most grandiose philosophies to the technical minutiae, and I miss that momentum.

Most of my students and friends know that I’ve started to take the first little baby steps towards my Anusara certification. Even saying that seems weird since connotatively the opposite of “certified” is “Uncertified” i.e. crazy outlier gone totally maverick and unendorsed by any sane governing body.  For those of you who are unclear on the difference between Anusara-Inspired status and Certified Anusara status, and if you have 4 or 5 hours to kill, here’s some light reading. Yes, it’s a big deal, and I’m focussed on it, and it’s very intimidating and encouraging all at the same time. It’s brought an aspect of Psjanz Psychology into sharp relief: I hate being wrong. I just HATE IT! The last time I failed something was my driver’s license test. I’ve passed everything else, from physical exams to cruise ship safety quizzes to Cosmopolitan personality surveys, with flying colours, ever since. Have I ever retaken my driver’s test? Oh HELL no.

I’ve chosen very abstract pursuits for my life’s work, fields like music and yoga where the PERCEPTION is that, sure, there’s discipline involved but ultimately they’re more “free” than, say, being an actuary or a lab tech or something. Au contraire, mon frere. Yes, our intention is increased freedom and freedom does ensue. My adolescent self would have been SHOCKED to hear that increased freedom required increased boundaries: in this case, stringent boundaries of study, anatomical accuracy, the courage of my convictions, and most importantly the willingness to be wrong.

The process of having my teaching vivisected by well-meaning but ultimately highly skilled and trained mentors has scared me off of the whole shooting match for months. You see, somewhere in my brain is a little chip that runs the following program:

10 HAVE OPINION

20 IF OPINION>CORRECT, GOTO 40

30 IF OPINION<CORRECT, PHRASE MORE VAGUELY

40 SHARE OPINION LOUDLY [VALUES OF LOUD=>75]

50 ???

60 PROFIT!!

70 GOTO 10

This is where we get phrases like, “kind of “ “a bit” “a little bit” “maybe” “if you like” “if you want to”: the congested spit-takes of somebody who doesn’t want to be caught in a lie, especially not when what they’re talking about is so damned important to them, as yoga is to me. I have a recurring day-mare wherein I am called upon to answer one of my teacher’s questions in a public setting and I CAN’T DO IT. I have defined myself so successfully in 3 decades of life as being somebody who is right that I have avoided putting myself in situations where I could be wrong, even when those situations are the most life-affirming. It’s like when you are trying to encourage a friend to ask an object of their desire out on a date and you casually toss off the bon mot: “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Dude, the worst thing that could happen is the WORST THING: you’ll be rejected, found wanting, you’ll be WRONG. From the outside you see that this fear hamstrings even the tiniest steps towards love, life and possibility. From the inside it is ontological death.

How this pertains to teaching is an interesting exercise. We take what is called “the seat of the teacher” and we anticipate [hopefully humbly] that our philosophical flights and physical requests are honoured. Putting the responsibility of the teacher back onto the student, with the “a little bit”s and “if you want to”s and “maybe”s, is not taking that seat. Having said that, can I be ready to be wrong? Can I let my truth be as flexible and open as I hope my body is becoming? There is a difference between true, vital strength and intractable stubbornness.

More on this subject to follow. In the meantime, consider situations where you have been just straight up WRONG and how the initial sting to the fragile self of the surface has given way to a soothing affirmation of your true, deep self. Being wrong can be sweet, even if it seems bitter.

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