Despite changing location many times—from venue to venue and, more recently, online—each Wednesday evening class with me involves some kind of group discussion and it has been this way for 7 years, or so. People come and go, but we have built enough of a foundation that we can maintain an exchange of ideas. There is a thread that loosely connects one class to the next.
Last month, our topic (the container, or 'guiding structure' for our chat) was ‘balance’, which has led me to think a lot about falling (and not falling), support (and lack of support), the relationships (and outcomes) between the two (and their opposites).
Balance as aspirational state
We often use 'balance' to describe 'an even set of circumstances’, or ‘an even experience of circumstances’ (‘equanimity’ comes from the Latin for ‘equal’ and ‘mind’, quite literally: even-mindedness). In yoga and mindfulness practices, 'balance' comes across as a sought after quality, or state. There is perfection in symmetry: the middle path one might take towards obtaining a clear and unfluctuating mind (citta vritti nirodha). It has an aspirational quality to it.
Balance is the fruit of practice; something to work towards. It is to be gained and maintained from moment to moving moment. [Perhaps it would be better to substitute ‘balance’ for ‘equilibrium’ here i.e. the balance between two competing forces resulting in no net change.]
Balance as temporary experience
In movement practices, we use 'balance' to describe what happens when we don't fall over. We can get really good at balancing, but we can only really get good at balancing in limited positions, on limited surfaces, under limited conditions, and for a limited amount of time: tree pose on the sand in a thunderstorm FOREVER, anyone? Balance is something to be experienced. It is dynamic and fleeting: it moves from moment to moment.
I favour the experiential. I am a big fan of stepping away from the superficial confines presented by a yoga mat. The moving (and witnessing) of a body and mind in a small space—mostly facing the same direction, and always on even ground—is not true to life (it's definitely not true to my life) and therefore has limited application. A good place to start, a good place to learn a new skill, to concentrate, and rest perhaps, but still, not a place anyone can realistically (or even desirably) inhabit forever.
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