At 6:40am this morning, I stepped into the yoga studio and thought I’d triggered the security alarm. A trail of shrieking sound went off. Wow, what’s that!? I wondered. Next, I wanted to stop it. But I had no idea what went wrong or where to begin to fix it. That high-pitched sound was so sharp I had to cup my ears with both hands as I ran around looking for the receptionist.
“I know, I know…I’ve called security. There must be something wrong with our alarm system.” Kerri emerged from behind the front desk, looking as annoyed as I was.
“Oh okay. Good luck!” I turned around and headed straight down to the ladies locker room to change for the 7 a.m yoga class, thinking the problem was in good hands; all would be well. It wasn’t.
“I know, I know….” Our yoga teacher walked into our studio room two minutes before class. There were two other yogis besides me already sitting on our mats, relieved that our teacher was aware of the noisy nuisance.
“They’ve called in security to fix whatever the problem is.” She was talking to me, one of three students there at that time. Three more students stormed in as if afraid they’d be shut out if they didn’t hurry.
“Oh good, come on in. Let me shut the door.” Marianna was apologizing to everyone and assuring us help was on the way.
7 a.m. She began class. All of us followed as if the screeching sound would go away magically any minute. I pressed my ears to her instruction as closely as possible while keeping an eye on other students who were doing the same. It was extremely difficult but I managed to move through every pose, pacing my ujjayi breathing alongside her soft-spoken tone and watching our class’s collective choreography of vinyasa flow. Everyone was following each and every step.
Five minutes went by, the sound suddenly got louder and louder.
Keeping her poise, she urged us to stay the course. “I know this is very challenging. Doing yoga and getting bombarded by this horrendous noise. But stay with this. Be patient. We will get through this.”
“Okay,” I told myself I would persevere, but that was my mind speaking.
Meanwhile, my body was falling apart a little bit. I was beginning to lose control of my steady breath as our practice kicked into faster speed, usually around 10-15 minutes into the class. With my core weakening, I let the ear-piercing alarm get to my head. Marianna’s voice was getting drowned out. My ears were fully tuned into that alarm at this point, breaking my core resolve. I suddenly felt my mental strength was wearing thin, and my emotional energy crumbling, shifting from proactively engaged in doing what’s good for me, (yoga), to reactively focused on what isn’t good for me (noise).
“I can’t keep this up. This is wrong. I will quit in 5 minutes if the alarm doesn’t stop.” I was beginning to feel like a victim, feeling abused by the sound pollution. As I scanned around the studio during the downward dog pose, everyone else seemed unaffected. I found no ally, no rebel. Am I the only one who can’t put up with this? Is this the point of yoga? Why are we forcing ourselves to breath and move through the yoga regimen when my chi (energy) is getting disrupted? I was getting more and more upset.
Just as I was rationalizing and justifying why I refused to be victimized, the alarm miraculously stopped.
“Finally. Great. It’s over. Thank you, everyone for enduring. You did it!” Miranna sounded so grateful that we all stuck with it.
“Wow. That was close. I almost quit!”
I’m glad I didn’t. At that moment, a Chinese phrase ( 能 屈 能 伸) which means one can bend and extend, suddenly came to mind. It occurs to me that is the birthplace of resilience – our core. Bringing attention to our core, where yoga practice enables active breathing to fuel its capacity, is the antidote to external unstoppable assault on our internal stable state.
Throughout the rest of the class, I’d gained a new appreciation for the sound of silence. I’d gained a new perspective of my capacity – physically and emotionally – to endure external circumstances that threaten to break me. I’d also discovered a new sense of my inner self – that self-righteous rebel that refuses to tolerate physically demanding work for my body. Yes, I’d let my mind cave into the pressure of sound, and yes, I’d set my own rules of disengagement. But what’s most important for me, is that I have experienced the benefits for letting “it” go through me, not just I going through “it.”
I have come to see that I could endure more than I thought. I feel more empowered and dedicated to keep building my core capacity ( 气量) through deepening my yoga practice for my benefits, and spreading them to benefit others.