The other day, seeing a not-very-appealing version of my self-image on the screen, my first reaction was not: ”Oh, the beauty of imperfection”. It was rather very un-yogic: ”colour your hair, lose a few kilos!”
Then I read an article about a Japanese ceramic artist, (very skinny he was, too) and his Kintsugi repair work with gold dust and glue to enhance the beauty of broken pieces of porcelain. As I read the article, I was still in a critical mood and wasn’t convinced that even a generous sprinkling of gold dust would somehow enhance my sense of self-appreciation.
Everybody’s favourite quote from Leonard Cohen is of course the crack that lets the light shine through. But beauty is also in the function. Because admit it: The teapot that has a big crack in it, lets the light in alright, but it leaks, and is pretty useless as a container for my
favourite beverage.
Once mended, maybe by using the Kintsugi technique, that makes the crack visible, there is a new beauty to the teapot, revealing the work and care that lies behind the repair. It has regained its function and it doesn’t leak. That’s where yoga comes in. During my almost 20 years as a yoga practitioner, the most important lesson to the perception of my body is the shift in perspective.
Rather than seeing my body as the container of some imperfect 60+kilos of flesh and bones, which I have to drag along, warts and scars and all, I am now rather in awe of this ingenious structure which carries me around, sometimes even proudly.
This has little to do with the fact that I can touch my toes with straight legs or muster a headstand without wobbling. It comes back to what BKS Iyengar told Westerners who arrived in Pune to learn yoga with the master.
They wanted to know how they could attain a higher level of spiritual consciousness. “Start by reaching your big toes”, said BKS Iyengar, meaning that the first step towards a more profound awareness is understanding your body, being at ease with it, and developing its
functionality.
Follow the function. If it works, it’s beautiful, even with prominent love handles.
Warm regards,
Emily