When I was in a unique yet standardized high school in Japan, I was in an English speaking debating team. I remember that specific topic which was should a school trip be in overseas or not. It may be a common thing in other parts of the world but being a tiny island nation that is highly monolingual, it was a big thing to go overseas as a high school student.
I was in an affirmative team. The negative team had a lot to offer including the cost of the trip for the parents, what a burden it would be for them to inequality amongst students, what if they can’t afford it? Do they not go?
So it was down to me as the last speaker to convince the judge. I remember preparing for weeks thinking about the undeniable benefit for the overseas school trip. Then one night, sitting there in our family kitchen table, I finally listened to my guts but it just didn’t feel like a factual concrete convincing point.
We can learn all there is to know about the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty in the films or books but we would NEVER know what it feels like to stand directly beneath, looking up at it.
“Just imagine what that feels like. Feeling the wind and listening to the bustle of the foreign city with a foreign language flying in the air, and finally looking up at something we’ve only seen in the movie”, I said. And in the end, yes, we can google how tall it is compared to other buildings. But that feeling standing there, feeling small, being part of something historical. That is something we would always remember. That tramps a lifetime of academic education.
Years later, I am saying the same thing. We can learn Sanskrit (by the way, it’s important!) and history of yoga, learn to argue where lineages cross and what year Bhagavad Gitā was written. But in order for us to learn the most important thing about yoga is through one’s own direct experiences.
When you hold a pose a little longer, when you soften inside of your body instead of tightening every muscle to hold, when you add another blanket under your hips just to feel what that is. Or in real life. Oh what a privilege to watch this yogic teaching come to life in real time! I watched my son being wronged by his friend. He came back and he sat there, first feeling all the anger there is, clenching his fist and shedding tears of frustration. As a mother, it was difficult to just sit there and let him experience what he was going through. But I knew I had to. Otherwise, it becomes MY experience, MY learning, not his. He breathed heavily and he closed his eyes to concentrate to breathe calmly.
He felt what he needed to feel in that moment and he looked up as if the storm passed by. The next thing I knew he was back into play. There were no words of threats or bickering. He just literally processed it in his own way right in front of me. I asked him and he said “well, I still want to play.” So he chose playing instead of grudging.
It was simple: I watched yoga being experienced. I watched from stimuli to tapas to discernment into karma.
We can practice all the asana and twist our bodies into shapes and stand on our heads for hours. But if it’s not being experienced, yoga does not come to life. Yoga becomes just wasted knowledge. It takes patience and practice. But there is nothing more valuable than your own experiences.