If you’d like to suck all the enjoyment out of your yoga practice, one guaranteed method is to hold the standard of perfection to all of your efforts and actions.

I’ve had some conversations with my students about perfectionism lately, as one of the impediments to doing, enjoying or developing consistency in a yoga practice. A few of  my students apply perfectionism as the roadblock for motivation, as in, they can’t get motivated because their efforts are imperfect. Not long enough practice, not good enough poses, not a peaceful enough mind....

I’m breaking out in a cold sweat just thinking about this impossible standard. I resonate with internalized perfectionism, there are many times in our lives when we are led to assume we just don’t measure up. We live in a culture that centers supremacy and hierarchy and doesn’t leave much space for long-term improvement, or dawdling along at one’s own slow and harmless pace.

I don’t know of any Sanskrit word that means perfectionism, but I’m familiar with the nava antaraya in the Yoga Sutra of Patanjali, in Sutra I.30.

The Nava Antaraya, the nine Obstacles

I’m so enthralled by this list of the nine obstacles. Every time we think we’ve come up with a novel excuse as to why our yoga is so much more difficult for us personally (you just wouldn’t understand), I reflect on this discussion in the Sutra. Patanjali already accounted for whatever we think our unique suffering is. In relation to perfectionism, I think of the last three of the obstacles:

• bhranti darshana (false perception)

• alabdhabhumikatva (disappointment in progress)

• anavasthitatvani (inability to maintain achievements)

With bhranti darshana, we don’t see clearly. We look at our triangle pose and we think there’s simply no benefit, because my hips are tight and my spine is round. I sat for 10 minutes of meditation and my mind was racing! Or, I couldn’t get up into a headstand today. We look past the efforts in simply practicing, and hold up scorecards (rating pretty low) on something that isn’t meant to be judged. We’re confused about the whole undertaking (clearing the mind, honest relationships with self and others), and think not only do I have to practice, I have to also look good, feel great and master poses. Instead of seeing the whole picture, we focus on meaningless details or misjudge the whole point of yoga.

Alabdabhumikatva is a disappointment in our progress, and with perfectionists, we can’t even recognize our progress until it’s completely flawless mastery (good luck with that). Instead of looking back and fondly recalling our first humble steps down our path, we look ahead, towards this impossible standard and feel defeated.

Lastly, anavasthitavani is our inability to maintain achievements. This is when motivation has been killed, perfectionism has claimed her bitter victory and we backslide. This backsliding creates the loop of defeatism...why bother when I can’t even do that pose, or sit for 5 minutes (bhranti darshana). When I tried to do those things, they weren’t any good (alabdabhumikatva) . Because they weren’t any good, means they won’t get any better. I give up (anavasthitatvani).

Practice beyond perfect

If you’re reading this, and drawing a direct line to a particular pose, please don’t. Instead of looking at a single pose (the one you decided was your enemy), take a breath, step back, and look at the whole of your practice. Reducing your yoga down to a difficult pose is reductionist and exclusive. And immature: don’t we believe that yoga is more than poses?

Perfectionism is a mindset of exclusion. You’ve created a very narrow scope of what is worthy, and you throw the rest away. You’re only willing to include efforts and outcomes that can’t be critiqued or improved. That removes so much richness out of your human experience, there’s not much left aside from a few isolated and curated moments.

One of the reasons why I (a committed perfectionist) love yoga is that there’s no system of credits and debits. It all counts. Or, none of it counts, either way. As I often tell my students: try this for extra credit, but know that you can never redeem your points, they are worthless. What I mean by that is: this is a practice of presence. You don’t get extra points for doing a more difficult variation. You aren’t debited for modifying your headstand. There isn’t more yoga in one pose or practice, and less in another.

I really, really struggled in the transition to online teaching. I used to stroll into a familiar place with familiar faces, and teach from my heart and mind. Out of nowhere, I was on screen, with my messy hair, crooked spine, Sanskrit mispronunciations, sweat in the armpits of my tshirts and mixed up lefts-and-rights. From relishing the ephemeral experience of sharing yoga, to a video library of hundreds of hours of my imperfections...it was hard to accept that there were permanent records of my vulnerability.

I have gotten used to it, and even enjoy some aspects. But I truly had to process that my difficulty wasn’t about being camera shy, I’m not. It was about my inability to guarantee a perfect class when the camera was on and recording. When I edit or review for tech glitches, I get pangs of serious l’esprit de l’escaliers…I could have said it better, more accurately. I could have moved more succinctly, more skillfully. I’ve had to accept that even if I re-record content, it will never be perfect, but it is already sincere and useful.

Life beyond memes

I view my practice as a refuge, and only study with teachers who exclude perfectionism from their classes. I enjoy my practice, that’s why I can return to it for refuge. Therefore, I don’t really struggle with motivation. I want to practice, because perfection isn’t even in the mix.

There’s a meme that says: Progress, not perfection. I think that’s flawed, because perfection is still implied. Progress is positioned as the process that moves you towards perfection. No thanks.

Yoga is a process of awareness. I offer: presence, not perfection.