On Balance

If you’ve ever practised yoga, you’ll know that holding a pose requires strength and balance. You’re not just relying on your stabiliser and core muscles to do their job; you’re also honing the skill of balancing. Balance depends on your body’s sense of where it is in space and the nervous system’s ability to make constant, small adjustments. It isn’t a talent some people have, and others don’t, and it can be improved with practice.

I first realised balance was a skill because I kept falling out of poses while looking sideways at people in class standing still and strong. It took me a while to heed the yoga teacher’s instructions to pick a spot on the wall and keep my eyes there. I’d do this for a few moments, and then, while trying to improve my pose, I’d glance sideways at the person in front of me to see how they were doing it — big mistake. This tiny act of comparison shifted my focus. The sideways glance stopped me from being in my body.

Most of us have the wherewithal to develop a skill. Where we fall down is having a fixed point to return to when we falter. We lose our balance the moment we glance sideways to see how someone else is doing it; someone more talented or skilled who seems to have it figured out, then we wonder why we’re not making the progress we’d hoped to make. We forget, just for a second, that we had a spot of our own to focus on.

The hard part about making progress isn’t forcing ourselves to stop looking around. It’s having the belief in ourselves and the muscle we’re building for long enough to stand in the discomfort. No one hands you that belief. You build it the same way you build any muscle, slowly and imperceptibly when no one’s watching. There’s no shortcut for the discomfort of standing there, off balance, learning what steadiness feels like for you.

For me, comparison can show up disguised as curiosity. I tell myself I’m just noticing, gathering data, but that sideways glance can throw me off course. Whenever I catch myself checking on someone else’s version of progress, I think about the yoga studio where each person had their own point of focus. It could have been a crack in the plaster or a scuff mark on the skirting board. And then I remember mine.

Of course, in the pursuit of progress, everyone wobbles. We’re human. The hard part isn’t avoiding a wobble; it’s reminding ourselves to refocus when we do.

Being off-balance is simply proof we’re standing on our own two feet.

Image credit: Evie Martinez