The middle of my not yet so interesting autobiography, a tale of success and failures.
I’ve had my share of disappointments, from the outside and the inside. Not being accepted into grad school was one of them, and both of them. I knew I was ready, but was I really? I’ll never know, it’s too late now. I excelled in philosophy as an undergrad. I loved the rush of understanding, the quiet clicking of pieces into places, assembling the puzzle of the world within the boundaries of my own mind and language. Those jewels of contemplation, those wondrous wizards of thought.
Do you believe in destiny? I do, but I believe it is what you make it, to an extent. I thought the purpose of my life, among other less significant things, was scholastic. Since childhood, school had always been my “thing.” My genes predestined me with an affinity for education, as well as an affinity for substance abuse. But I never had trouble juggling the both of them. Like my father, I would smoke cigarettes and earn my Ph.D. Like him, I would cultivate unhealthy relationships and become a professor at a university. It’s not all good, and it’s not all bad. But, like cigarettes and angry boyfriends, we can always quit our career dreams. When I didn’t get into grad school, I blamed the system, the budget, politics, and silently, myself. Maybe I didn’t do it right. Maybe the advice I received was incomplete or misguided. Maybe I should try again. Why wasn’t I? The tide began to pull me in another direction.
Only dead fish go with the flow, but it’s useless to fight a strong current. Either way, I’d have to wait to apply again, and I was urged to enroll in yoga teacher training. Something school-like, something I was also good at and enjoyed. I’m used to mental acrobatics why not some physical contortions as well. Why not delve deeper and learn the physics of yoga. Slowly, as philosophy had pulled the rug out from under my feet and had left me to build from the foundation up, yogic philosophy gradually lifted the silken veil from over my eyes.
Subtle, energetic bodies. Chakras. The infinite, the ineffable, the incomprehensible One. The unity amongst duality. Lifting the illusion of separation. Trained to be a skeptic, I asked the hard questions, but was met with shrugging answers. Like in philosophy, you must discover the truth for yourself, but here are the premises, here are the means to your end. Developing as a yoga teacher is a slow and not always easy process. You’re confronted with new challenges all the time. Constantly, you must depend on the comparatively small shards of knowledge you have retained. Always, you must go back to the source and remind yourself of the goal. The aim of yoga is to lift up those around you, to help others realize that they have more potential than they had ever realized. It isn’t enough to tell them, or show them, as a teacher, my job is to deliver an experience. I’m not selling a service, I’m selling a revelation! Maybe I don’t need a Ph.D. after all. Or at least, this is something worth working on in the meantime.
So I have learned that I am essentially divine and so is everyone and so is everything but you know what, I still have to sell sandwiches to make a living. A working class young woman, I have to squint to see my own dignity. But I know it all depends on perspective. If richness is measured in joy, then I am a queen in non-slip shoes. I sing “Om Namah Shivaya” as I scrape hardened cheese off of hot oven pans. I smile and I mean it, I love. I love. The yoga mat is not an island. It’s just hard to keep equipose when life is so multi-faceted.
Everything we experience in life is a mixture of light and dark, shiva and shakti, yin and yang. Don’t I know it. What’s difficult is remembering the light when darkness looms so close. When I got the job teaching one yoga class a week at my preferred studio, my happiness overflowed. Finally! I’m not just a 23 year old with a degree in philosophy selling sandwiches at Jason’s Deli! I’m a 23 year old with a degree in philosophy teaching TEACHING yoga classes. But still, it’s hard to feel too proud of yourself when you’re still learning, still grappling with the basics. I’ve learned a whole lot more, now that it’s a year later. I’ve learned much more about the human body through teaching experiences, a whole lot more about sequencing and creating an enjoyable yoga class. I’m getting good at this. I have something to offer.
Opportunities came and went. Lafayette Chiropractic took me on and it was a struggle from the start. Short story shorter, attendance didn’t accumulate, daily deals didn’t accrue, losses had to be cut. Deciding to quit it was one of the most difficult decisions of my life. I was admitting failure. I had been offered this golden opportunity but it didn’t blossom, it fizzled. Was it my fault? There’s more I could have done, but was it really worth it? Cut and run, I decided. And I felt better about it afterward.
So I have my one yoga class and I’m working my butt off besides that at the Deli. I need a better job, a grown up job. I leaped at an opening at Acadia-Vermilion as a human resources assistant. Anything to get away from sandwiches, and this would be good for me. I didn’t even get an interview though. They hired from the inside. Time passed and I was complacent yet apprehensive. Another opportunity, at Vermilionville, as assistant to the museum manager caught my eye. I know the manager, she complimented my resume and I was rewarded with an interview. What a salary! What a good desk job! Oh, my lowered expectations, yet so lofty compared to my current situation. Mentally reviewing my answers to those strange behavioral questions, I felt uneasy. But maybe, just maybe, this would be my ticket. I would work 40+ hours a week but make enough money to be considered middle-class. So long, poverty line! Not that I ever minded being poor, I don’t know luxury so I can’t miss it. I anticipated the news but feared its reception. With reason. I didn’t get that job either. “I’m sure you will find a great job,” Anne assured me. Thank you, I hope so.
Let’s tally up the score. Successes: yoga teacher training, yoga teacher job. That’s 2. Failures: grad school, Acadia-Vermilion, Vermilionville. That’s 3. I’m simplifying things, but bear with me. At the moment I seem to be the underdog. Oh well, you know what’s the cure for that? Yoga class! I enter the studio in my shy little way, as though I’m not the boss here every now and then. Jerry and Shannon greet me at the door. “Oh, to answer your question, Shannon,” says Jerry, “I think Anna would be perfect for that.” My little puppy ears perk up. Yes I AM! What am I perfect for, now? We’ll discuss it after class.
Knock Knock.
Who’s there?
Opportunity!
Opportunity who?
….What?
I’m just kidding! Don’t ding dong ditch me again!
Shannon explained to me that Lafayette General Wellness Center, where she’s been teaching yoga classes for years, needs another yoga teacher to pick up 5 or more yoga classes a week. Would I be interested? Definitely, absolutely, holy baby jesus, let’s do this thing!
I got a call, I got an interview, and you know what I GOT HIRED. On top of that, I was chosen to pick up another weekly yoga class at Acadiana Yoga. I’m racking ‘em up at this point. Now I’m looking at 7 yoga classes a week. That’s decent money but a divine way of life. Just details, details, to sort out now, I’m guessing everything will start swinging in March.
I find it funny, how it all evens out. My “failures” match my “successes” now, as things come into balance. But I don’t really see them that way anymore. Opportunities came that seemed like they were what I wanted and I threw my chips in. I felt a loss when I didn’t win the pot, but in the end, I got something better. In the end, I got what I really wanted, what I was really made to do. Indeed, my purpose is not to operate a cash register or assemble meaty sandwiches. Neither is it to sit at a desk and organize data. These aren’t bad occupations, for me or anyone else, but whoever is in charge of this universe knows that I was destined for something bigger, something more meaningful, and the cosmos won’t allow me to settle for anything less, even though I’ve tried.
Lafayette Chiropractic didn’t last long and it was confusing and awkward but oh boy did I learn! Those other lost causes, Acadia-Vermilion and Vermilionville, are dust in the wind but at least I tried. Each time I got a step closer but I couldn’t win it until it was what I really really wanted. And you know, sometimes what we really really want changes. Am I failure for abandoning my quest for graduate acceptance and the holy grail of a Ph.D. or am I a success for discovering the yoga teacher in me and allowing that radiance to shine? I believe that I am neither. I am not a failure nor a success because my story is still being written. My destiny has metamorphosed, based on my situation and my interests. I am still down with philosophy and I enjoy pursuing it on my own time. Maybe I will get that Ph.D. one day. But right now I have a different calling. And it won’t be easy. I’ll make mistakes, I’ll feel like a failure again. And again and again and again. But then I will remember, I’ll come back home, return to the fact that we’re all just finding our way, that we are all made perfect by our imperfections. That sometimes we are awash in sunlight and sometimes we shiver in the dark, but the only enlightened way to view our circumstances is to see the flickers of hope and lessons to be learned when darkness encroaches. And also to not define ourselves by our greatest successes either, for it was in those moments of uncertainty that our destiny was written.