Empathy Hurts

I spent some time this week playing around with my yoga practice in the studio at which I now teach, 3 Bridges Yoga in Portsmouth, NH. It's a warm and friendly studio with 2 wonderful owners, Jody & Bjorn Turnquist, and I am thrilled to be there. Although I demonstrate certain poses during class, I don't actually do the postures alongside students in my class so that I can adjust them both verbally and physically. Since I'm not practicing with them, I want to be super careful that I don't lose touch with what they might be feeling in certain poses and sequences -- which is why I went to 3 Bridges earlier this week to work on poses and sequences through which I lead a class.

One of the poses I practiced was Baddha Sirsasana (the headstand I'm doing above). In any inversions like this, there is always a fear of falling (at least for me there is!). I have this scene in my head where I fall over, scream from fear and pain, and create a domino effect throughout a class of yogis standing on their heads. I would be just the girl to cause such a yogastrophe, I know it. I imagine my students feel this fear as well in this pose (perhaps without the detailed visualization...). Worried falling might hurt or make a scene causes people to hold back and refrain from trying some inversions. While this fear is totally justified and should hold some people back who would be unsteady and unsafe, I find this lack of confidence stops many, who are prepared, from progressing forward in their practice.

So, I'm in this pose, imagining limbs flying, yogis falling, Lululemon logos going everywhere, and I think, why don't I just let myself fall out of it so I can know how it feels? I'll just get it over with-- it can't be that bad. I have this optimistic image of myself rolling gracefully into a somersault, planting my feet and rising to standing with my hands in the air, yelling, Ta-Da! I just know it's going to be totally awesome and not hurt a bit.

So I fall...
                 not-so-gracefully.

There is definite tuck and rolling action, but there is no grace and certainly no Ta-Da!
Oh. And it hurts like a mother f-----. Perhaps there is a graceful way to fall but I didn't just do it. I did the opposite of it. Ouch.

My dreams of becoming a gymnast shattered, I peel myself off the ground and commence the pity party. I was only trying to put myself in my students' shoes so that I could teach out of an authentic place, look where it got me? A pounding headache and some awful tasting humble pie. Empathy hurts. Also, I'm rethinking my thought process and realizing maybe that Mensa membership card isn't going to arrive, after all.

I think about another person I know who also went overboard with empathy. My friend Rita's husband was with their kids while she was at a work function. Halfway through the function, her phone rings and it's him.  
    Johnny ate one of the berries off our bush outside. I'm sure it's poisonous and I'm freaking out!
Johnny is barely a toddler at this point.
    Well, Rita asks, How is he?! Is he OK?!
    He seems OK right now but, just to be sure, I ate some berries, too.
    WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! Rita shouts into the phone.
    I wanted to know what he was feeling!
 Thankfully Johnny, and his dad, were both fine.

I realize Rita's husband and I understand the importance of empathy but maybe lack intelligence when applying it. Empathy is central to any successful relationship because it's the skill that allows us to cross the bridges between one another. It's most certainly a skill, since, it's something you have to practice in order to perfect.
 
I, for one, am still practicing. And I have the headache to prove it.