LDS Yogis: Don't Over Do It

PARSHVA HASTA EKA PADA KOUNDINYASANA

The Problem: Finding Balance

For many Latter-day Saints, the day after General Conference is a lot like the day after New Years—it’s when our personal resolutions begin to fall apart.

There are two main reasons why I have lost my motivation only hours after feeling so stoked: 1) I end up either trying too hard and burn out, or 2) I balk at my mammoth spiritual goals and give up in exasperation.  I call this tragic pattern—The Zeal Cycle. It begins with a moment of inspiration that then leads to a spasm of fervor (or feelings of guilt) for not having accomplished one's goal. This results in discouragement and complacency.  After some time has passed, we seek inspiration again.

As a yogi, I have dealt with "The Zeal Cycle” as well.  I often feel intense feelings of inspiration right after an especially cleansing yoga class, or witnessing someone demonstrate an INSANE yoga pose. I'm like, "I want to do that, right now!" And then I try, and fail, and inevitably lose interest. Time passes, and I'm right back to where I started.

The Zeal Cycle is combated both in LDS and yogic philosophies, which—instead—encourage practitioners to mentally move through life with balanced diligence (Sthira) and self-compassion (Sukha).

Sthira or Steadiness

Diligence is a big part of my yoga practice. In order to explore and expand my wellbeing and ability, it's important to me to mindfully move as deeply into positions and postures as possible.

However, yoga practitioners feel the need to push themselves beyond what is appropriate for various reasons:

• Their competitive natures encourage them to hold their headstand for one second longer than their neighbor.
• Their eyes dart around the room to see who is watching them.
• They adjust their postures because the instructor walks by and their egos remind them to look good.
• They go deeper into a pose because they want to “make the most” of their time on the mat.
• Etc.

"Pushing" and "forcing" have no benefit in yoga, regardless of the reason.  The risk of physical injury is real. Practitioners must learn to continually listen to their bodies in order to determine their ability level in any given moment.  As muscles, tendons, and ligaments open, loosen, and lengthen through diligent practice, it results in lasting transformation.

Likewise, in my Christian discipleship, I often feel like I ought to be doing more. I experience guilt when I let the sign-up sheet pass by without signing up for the 5:45am volunteer shift at the meat-packing plant.  There is so much good to be done in the world, and I sometimes beat myself up for not being able to do all of it, right now.

To me, approaching my religious covenants with steadiness means fulfilling my basic Church responsibilities (attending worship service, magnifying my callings, maintaining personal spiritual hygiene). Beyond that, all other opportunities are just that, opportunities.

Sukha or Ease

Adriane is perhaps my favorite, online, yoga instructors.  She encourages her students to approach their practice with sukha or mental "ease" and "softness."

One yoga technique that helps me gauge whether or not I am treating myself with softness (sukha) is to pay attention to my breathing. When my breath is turbulent, I know that I am pushing myself too far and I need to ease up and slow down.

While slowing the body down is relatively simple, treating myself with self-compassion is easier said than done. One way I remind myself to embrace self-compassion is to imagine how I would respond to a best friend going through a personal challenge.  And then I pause to realize—that that best friend is me.

"Do Not Run Faster Than You Have Strength"

This principle of diligently moving through life with self-compassion is echoed throughout epochs of LDS theology.  In Mosiah 4:26-27, King Benjamin, a beloved prophet from the Pre-Columbian Americas, cautioned his people "not to over do it" after impressing upon them their Christian duty to care for others:

And now, for the sake of these things which I have spoken unto you—that is, for the sake of retaining a remission of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God—I would that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to their wants. 

And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.

This principle of measured diligence is echoed centuries later when God gave instruction to the LDS prophet Joseph Smith regarding the translation the Book of Mormon (D&C 10:4):

Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end.

In modern times, I often hear members of the LDS Church exclaim that they feel overwhelmed by their many Church service responsibilities.  Elder Maxwell offered the following advice on how to cope with the desire to live up to their basic baptismal covenant to serve others:

As precious and special assets of the Lord’s kingdom, Latter-day Saints must recognize the wisdom of preserving their health and strength in order to serve more individuals and to serve them longer. “People fatigue” can overtake us all if we are not wise.

“Doing Better Doesn’t Mean Doing More” is another great resource. It is a collection of words by modern-day prophets and Church leaders to encourage Latter-day Saints to exercise self-compassion by asking them to re-evaluate their measures of success.

Reflection and Conclusion

As a young man, I was extremely goal-driven and had perfectionistic tendencies (especially in gospel living), which initially led to high achievement, but was ultimately not a healthy combo.  Many of my personal prayers included the words, "please help me to do my best in everything I do."  If I ever failed to achieve the high standard I set for myself, I became consumed by an "all-or-nothing" limiting belief and would feel miserably about it. Unfortunately, repeated failures trained me to stop reaching for greatness.

Since then, I have gratefully learned to recognize and overcome many of my cognitive distortions. I have returned to setting ambitious goals for myself. But now I pursue them with a greater degree of wisdom and order.  Mastery of the universe is no longer my objective; rather, I am trying to find oneness with it.

There is no NEED to master a full-lotus position in my first year of yoga practice, or even in my first 10 years of practice.  Nor is there a NEED to minister to every neighbor's need on a given Sunday. What I can do is take manageable steps towards my end goals each day.  My favorite new phrase I tell myself when I'm feeling overwhelmed is, "Maybe that bite is little too big." I'm also fond of, "I may not be able do that right now, but I can do this. And that is enough."  

In my personal yoga practice and in my LDS discipleship, it's not about the destination; it's about the journey.  And while I may sometimes stray temporarily from my charted course, I will compassionately return to my aim, one day at a time.

Dream Small (Official Video)