Since my days in grade school, I’ve gravitated toward the eclectic.  My friends have  always been a sample from various groups and cliques that in their purity would never appeal to me; it’s about what gems of beauty and truth emerge from individuals, parts of the whole.  “The whole” has value all its own, but I often find myself roaming around inside “the whole” searching for myself.  My reflection is often best found in smaller concentric & intersecting circles rather than the all-encompassing circumference.

I went to NYU for drama where the Stella Adler & Lee Strasberg Studios* followed a very specific structure for the craft; and then there was the Circle in the Square Studio* which drew from various traditions for a more malleable form.  Guess where I was placed.

As I began the journey toward my professional bliss, I tapped everything from cashiering, coat-checking, waitressing, demonstrating cookware, hawking products and film/video production to temping in industries ranging from media/broadcasting, market research, the music business, book publishing, pharmaceuticals and a variety of other forgettable positions.  (Resume on file;-)  And then there were the entrepreneurial years.  It was an enlightening ride for sure.

My yoga yellow brick road has been present for the last 12 years of this trip; like the diversity of my choices, the path has been alternately dominant and dormant at different times.  Since my children have reached a quasi independent point, I’ve eagerly plopped myself smack dab in the middle of the path, found my groove and am ambling right along, with consistency, loving every step.

I was talking with a fellow yogini (and good friend) about yoga, the different styles and the wide range of thoughts on the subject.  What sparked the idea for writing this post is that she mentioned a school of thought she’d recently heard that one should stick to one style of yoga.  What?  This was not her philosophy, just something that had come up in one of her conversations.  I found my left eyebrow rise (as it often does when I’m perplexed or surprised).  To me, it was like saying, pick one book to read or go to the buffet but you can only choose one item to fill your plate.

There’s certainly nothing wrong with finding a style you love (after dating the various styles for a while, of course;-) and sticking with it.  I actually find it admirable if someone is so charged by something that she chooses to devote her time, energy and heart to discovering, deepening or even mastering the practice.  I guess what pushed my buttons was the idea that this was what was deemed appropriate, or even necessary, for every practitioner on the yoga path.  Perhaps I misunderstood.  I don’t know.

What I do know is that I am turned on by all there is to learn on this path.  In fact, every time I’m exposed to a new facet, tradition or style, my heart opens to the truth of all there is to learn.  Truth be told, it can be a bit overwhelming but it also reminds me where I am on the path and keeps me humble and grateful.

The teacher training program at the Prancing Peacock, beyond its magical qualities, has opened doors and revealed doors yet to be opened.  The style practiced and taught there is Vinyasa Flow and flow it does.  Flow is the operative word of the experience, allowing for the myriad flavors offered at this buffet.

Punctuating my more vigorous practice with a Yin Yoga or Restorative class helps balance my energy; breathing breath of fire in a Kundalini class (something I hope to do soon and have tasted in small doses within other classes) will add to my complicated and eager palate; focusing on alignment in an Iyengar or Anusara class redirects my mind and breath; I’m not yet moved to the hot and humid Bikram practice, but expect to find myself walking through that door one day.  And I get to come home to an ever-changing, yet familiar Vinyasa Flow.  Life is full and good.

In my life off the mat, with small children and the challenge of creating a life from this vantage point, I am extremely grateful for this particular quality of honoring the eclectic with eagerness and curiosity.  Getting stuck in one clique or idea of what this life should look like would be very limiting, not to mention suffocating.  I appreciate the more single-minded focused individuals who master their practices (whatever they may be) and hope to cultivate that quality within my often scattered world.

The lesson for me is to fill my plate but not to the point of unbalance.  If morsels are falling off as I walk back to my table, there’s too much for that trip.  As the Native Americans live by not taking more than they need, so it is also true at life’s buffet.  The good news is that when your plate is clean, you can always go back for more!

Bon Appetite!

*(Note:  It is my understanding that neither the Strasberg Studio nor Circle in the Square are current studios at NYU’s undergraduate drama program.)