I fell over… And it filled me with joy (really)

I was in my garden the other day practising headstands when I lost my balance and toppled over onto my back. I was fine, I laughed, got back up and just started practising again.

I know this doesn’t seem like a big deal, but to me it’s absolutely massive. I’ve always moved my body, mostly in the gym, but I used to bike a lot and I’ve given climbing and running a go now and then. But given all this movement, I’ve still always remained a very cautious person when it comes to trying something new. I’d rather watch someone else jump off a rock into the sea before I take the leap! I like to blame my Cancer rising for this - we approach everything with caution, pincers at the ready.

I first starting practising headstands mainly because I was forced to during my ashtanga teacher training. If any of you have been to a traditional ashtanga yoga school in India you might relate here - you can expect to be pushed and pulled into all sorts of extreme shapes, and consent doesn’t really seem to be a thing yet. So, yeah, I was forced to stand on my head and go up the wall. Something that terrified me - really, I was brought to tears in a few classes and felt a lot of that kind of hot, shakey anger towards the teacher.

I didn’t progress much with headstands on the course. I think I was too annoyed and tired. I knew I needed to take more of a Cancer-rising-caution approach in my own time and my own space, which my teacher wouldn’t get. So, when I got back home from India to the UK that’s what I did. I closed the door to my room, took every cushion from every sofa in the house and totally padded out my bedroom floor with them, and I practised (and practised, and practised, and practised).

Fast forward a year and I’m in my garden falling over onto my back and laughing about it, and it feels like a bigger achievement than the headstand. Why? Because I trust that my body is resilient and capable, I trust that I can fall and be okay. And that’s the kind of transformative work that yoga really is - it’s not even about the headstand. Who cares?! But developing that relationship of trust and faith in your body? Moving from fearful to capable? That’s priceless. Honestly in that moment I was overwhelmed with joy and gratitude for yoga, and maybe even towards that mean teacher who forced me up the wall in the first place.