Have you ever been to a yoga class where the music just so perfectly fit the class it made you feel all the possible feels and sometimes even maybe wanting to sing along?
I know I have. It’s one of the cosiest experiences letting ourselves move in beat with the tunes, melt into the melodies and letting the music help guide us through the flow.
And as much as I’m a huge fan of music, is music in a yoga class a filler? Are too many teacher’s words a filler?
What would happen if we allowed for the silence to reveal our thoughts, our fears, our joys? What if we allowed for the silence to reveal our soul?
We most likely wouldn’t feel that yoga high at the end of the class since we might be exposed to the side of ourselves that we quite often shy away from. Our fears, thoughts and worries might bubble up to the surface, trying to catch our attention and take us away from the present moment.
But maybe, even if all of this happened, we’d finally have a chance to slowly see and accept all parts of ourselves, integrate that back into our experience and come out of this whole yoga thing more…well, whole. More ourselves.
Yet silence is just the first step. We need fire to withstand what arises and burn through it.
Because what’s harder than the 18th chaturanga is staying with the sh*tty thoughts that might arise and not running away from ourselves.
And that chair that we’re holding for x amount of breaths? It has little to do with a toned butt but rather with resilience—with staying in the midst of a fire, knowing it won’t last forever and that the support of our calm breath will carry us through.
So the challenges remains: when things become uncomfortable, what’s my innate reaction? To run, to move, to look away? Can look into heart of that fire and let it transform me? And then, only then, when we’re able to allow for the silence to reveal and the fire to transform, are we touching the heart of this practice we call yoga.
It’s no wonder that the first three words of the Rg veda, one of the oldest Indian texts, says "Om̐ agnimīle" or "I praise the fire."
Does that mean that I don’t play music at any of my classes? Most definitely not. There is a time and space to feel it all with the aid of music, to hype ourselves up or calm ourselves down, but there is without a doubt a need for silence and slowing down that is quite often overlooked. Sometimes because it’s scary, sometimes because it’s not the easiest.
No matter what the reason might be (and especially if the reason is “it’s boring”), I invite you to explore the silence in your personal yoga practice now and again, meet the fire and let the revelation and transformation begin.
Dreamer, creator, storyteller, yogini.