The Fall

If there is one thing I’ve learnt from practicing and coaching arm balances and inversions in yoga, it is that everyone falls. If there is a second thing, it is that the response to those falls is what makes the difference between somebody who won’t master that tricky pose any time soon and somebody else who will go on to not only master that pose but move on to the next pose and master that too.

I am 100% convinced this principle applies to all of life, not just to the fraction of life that occurs on a 24 inch x 68 inch piece of mat.

How do you respond to a small setback?

  • Is it taken as a lesson, as greater motivation, as a challenge to commit more and overcome the setback? Or,

  • Is it seen as an insurmountable obstacle, a reminder that you aren’t good enough, and as the end of the road in working towards that particular goal?

Let me tell you this… the more you fall, the more you are learning, so there is absolutely nothing inherently bad in the fall. You haven’t hurt yourself, so this fall was not a step backwards. Stopping practice would be the step backwards.

People who practice with me regularly know that I am keen on the yoga pose known as Pincha Mayurasana - considered by many to be an advanced pose - and that I can comfortably hold that for 10 calm breaths. What most don’t know is that, except for occasional rest days when I didn’t try, I fell every single day for 6 months. During that time, using YouTube tutorials and a lot of perseverance, I went from not even being able to kick-up at a wall, to my first 1 second free-standing balance, to attempting several variations and to getting my first one-minute hold. I was still pushing, and still falling daily. (I then joined Yogi Flight School, and learned how to not fall!).

What did I learn during that 6 months? Sure, I learned a cool-looking yoga pose. That doesn’t have all that many practical real-life uses. Sure, I practiced the importance of commitment and patience, without attachment to a specific outcome. That’s a useful life-skill, I guess. Most importantly, I learnt that falling is inevitable so to not use that as a reason, or an excuse, to stop. I’m certain that the fear of falling is a greater impediment to growth than the actual consequences of falling are to reaching goals.

“But, didn’t you hurt yourself?” is a reasonable question you might ask. The simple answer is no*. And, you won’t either.

* In the past two years, I’ve only hurt myself such that I stopped practicing twice. Once, I was trying a stupid transition between two poses and I headbutted to floor. The other time, I fell and tweaked my wrist - but the lesson there was obvious as I hadn’t warmed up properly (or at all, if I’m being honest). Honestly, what’s the worst that’ll happen? You bruise your ego, you stand up, and you are no further from your goal than before you tried. Hopefully, you can iron out another reason why you aren’t mastering that pose and you can work on that reason next. That’s progress!

There is a certain stigma around falling - so how can we make falling a more positive possibility? Here’s my suggestion:

  • F - First

  • A - Attempts

  • L - Lead to

  • L - Learning!

Let us promote this acronym, and not only destigmatise falling but also encourage people to stop seeing lack of falls as to goal. Lack of falls is perhaps an artifact of mastery, it shouldn’t be the goal in itself.

What do you think? Where are the parallels in life-off-the-mat? Do you see every failure as an insurmountable obstacle or as a sign that you should give up? Or, do you learn what you can, wipe yourself down and go again? Do you accept falling as being inevitable, and deal with that by taking opportunities to practice balancing?

Previous
Previous

The Science Of Breathing and Some Practical Applications

Next
Next

FREE Principles of Arm Balances & Inversions Workshop