Being vs. Doing

So Asaf, who I mentioned in my last post, has been taking my yoga classes the last couple months. We've had a nice trade going (like my logo over there on the right rail? Me too. Thanks, Asaf!), and he has commented several times that our teaching styles are similar.

Last Saturday, I finally got to take his class. And I agree with him: we do have similar styles. In fact, I couldn't stop scribbling about the crossovers of what we were learning -- Physicality of Improv is the name of the class -- and yoga. The biggest of which is being vs. doing.

We did this solo exercise where the improviser would enter the space with some crazy physicality. Not a character, per se, but just a specific exploration of speed, space, tension, etc. So everybody looked a little wacky. And it was enjoyable to see each person move around the space in his own peculiar way, connect with the audience and say, "Hello." We were just watching the actor explore being physical. Or more simply, watching that person be. There was no doing.

Until there was. Asaf would walk in and make that person a surgeon, or a dentist, or a babysitter, or something else with a prescribed list of activities we all have in out heads because we are citizens of the modern world. And as soon as the actor started performing the surgery, or (in my case) drilling teeth, the scene got BORING. Fast. You could feel the life of it draining away.

Of course, as we each began to figure that out, you could feel the fun, the joy come back into each scene. Every time. It was like magic.

And I started thinking about how hard it is to keep being, even when the doing comes in. In yoga. In life. But when you find it, that feels like magic, too.

As soon as hatha yoga becomes something you do, it really sucks. At least in my experience. It becomes like running was for me years ago. I never really liked it, but I loved having run. It was something I did, a means to an end. I wanted a workout, an endorphin high... so I ran. Simple as that. But then the act of running was never meditative. I was so focused on the doing that I wasn't being. When you're being, the line between runner and running starts to dissolve. You can't have one without the other. And time stops for you.

In hatha yoga, if you "do" Tadasana, or Mountain Pose, you get bored. "Um. I'm standing. What's the big deal?"

If you "do" Warrior 3, you get pissed. I see the daggers coming out of the eyes of those people in class: "How long are you going to keep me here?!"

If you "do" Bakasana (Crow Pose) or whichever hand balance challenges you, you fall out as soon as you get in.

The trick to all of these is the same: You have to be the pose. I realize that sounds like a knock-off Bruce Lee line, but in my experience, it's true.

So how do you do that? How do you be? You breathe. You stay focused on what's happening in this micro-instant. On this breath. If you're holding your breath, it's a dead-on sign that you're doing, not being. Because the pose will change with every breath. And the more you pay attention, the BIGGER those changes become. They become earth-shakingly obvious. And fascinating. And so enjoyable to experience.

Interesting that we're called human beings, yet the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning is my to-do list. It's a strange ride, this effort to rediscover our birthright: being. The doing is so damn seductive.