09/06/2025
When I first started learning drop backs, I didn’t know how much it would break me…
I didn’t realize was how much the practice would ask of me — not just physically, but emotionally. Some mornings I’d land. Other days, I’d back away in fear, or collapse halfway and feel like a failure. There were tears. Lots of frustration. And the constant inner voice asking, “Why can’t I just get this?”
But that’s the thing about Mysore. It doesn’t rush you.
My teacher whom I’ve been practicing for over a year now, guides with just enough: a cue here, a nudge there, and plenty of space for me to explore, fall, and get back up. He’d share stories from his own practice. What worked, what didn’t. And then he’d leave me with something simple, like: “lift higher.” And walks away.
At first, I didn’t get it. But over time, I started feeling it — in my body, my breath, and slowly… in my life.
I stopped fighting myself. I started showing up more honestly.
And somewhere in the middle of all the effort and surrender, the pose came. But more importantly, I changed.
That’s the beauty of Mysore. The real transformation doesn’t happen when you finally “nail” the pose — it happens in all the messy, uncomfortable, soul-searching moments in between.
And that wisdom? It’s not something someone can hand you. You earn it through your own effort.
