I met a friend after my yoga class, “That class nearly killed me” I said. My friend said, “You should be getting pretty good by now.”
Meaning, I think, that since I’ve been doing yoga for about 10 years now, I should be better at it, or it shouldn’t hurt so much.
But Yoga isn’t like that.
It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing it, it doesn’t get any easier.
So I tried explaining that I’m better than when I started, but not that much better.
Because Yoga’s insidious.
With most physical activities you psyche yourself up to push yourself.
Take running, you say to yourself, today I’m going to run faster, or further, or both.
You have times and distances to compare, you can track progress.
It’s the same with weights, or rowing, or cycling.
But with yoga you’re only vaguely aware of progress.
There are no accepted metrics for tracking it, so what happens occurs gradually, imperceptibly, insidiously.
And what happens is that as you gain a little flexibility, your body wants to gain a bit more, and you work harder without consciously deciding to.
So even though you’re getting fitter and more flexible the effort you make doesn’t diminish, it actually increases.
Being creative is like doing yoga.
It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing it, it doesn’t get any easier.
And what happens is that as you develop a little creativity, your mind wants to gain a bit more, and you work harder without consciously deciding to.
And the effort you make doesn’t diminish; it actually increases, because you know that the work can always be that little bit better.
Because creativity’s insidious, just like yoga.
