by sheloves
By Sarah Henderson | Twitter: @sarahlowhen
I’ve often heard yoga teachers say that savasana is the hardest yoga pose for many people to practice. This pose typically comes at the end of a yoga class, and is one where students are guided to let all physical effort cease. A student lies on his or her back, body soft, limbs in a relaxed state, palms up, eyes shut, jaw soft. When students can access this pose, there is deep relaxation, an experience of which the psalmist writes—to be still and know that God is God.
As delicious as savasana can be, it isn’t entered easily. In fact, one of the primary reasons that other, more physically challenging poses were developed, was to tire out the body so that the mind could rest in meditation, so goes yoga legend.
I see this resistance to rest in my students. Some wiggle their toes; others tap their fingers to the beat of the music. Occasionally one sneaks a peek at her phone to see how long until class is over, while others decline my suggestion to close their eyes and instead stare at the ceiling. My personal challenge in savasana is to let my mind be still and not make lists—groceries to buy, chores to do, lists of offenses for the things I have done and things I have left undone. Truth is, it’s hard to accept the invitation to rest.
A few years ago, I read the book Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in our Busy Lives by Wayne Muller, during the busy season of raising three small children. My life was made up of diaper changes, play dates and endless laundry. Every day was much like the one before. The book’s title called out to me. I desperately needed rest, renewal, delight.
As early as page 6, I was confronted with an uncomfortable thesis: that when we neglect the practice of Sabbath, we risk damage to our own souls and potentially hurt the ones we love.
It was here I began to ponder. Of all the Ten Commandments, why do I feel that “honor the Sabbath and keep it holy” is optional? I am good with God on murder, theft, adultery, lying, coveting. Now that I am a parent myself, I am more on board with the honoring of father and mother. I don’t make idols, and when the words “Oh my God” come from my lips, I almost always intend them as a prayer, a genuine calling out to the Divine.
But Sabbath … Sabbath was different.
I could have blamed the church I grew up in that taught that our rest was now found in Christ and followers of Jesus need not observe a literal day of rest. But the truth is, I found myself in these words of Muller’s: “Our culture invariably supposes that doing something—anything—is better than doing nothing. Because of our desire to succeed, to meet those ever-growing expectations, we do not rest. Because we do not rest, we lose our way.”
Because we do not rest, we lose our way.
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I wanted to succeed at all the things my culture told me I should be succeeding at—making healthy, home-cooked meals, for my well-behaved, regularly-bathed children, in our perfectly-kept, Pinterest-worthy home, looking good on the outside and right with God on the inside (lots of early morning quiet times, you know). But that takes a lot of work, y’all. There was no time for resting, no time to pause, certainly no way to keep the Sabbath.
I was exhausted and frayed like an old cloth. My children were not getting the best version of their mother, and my husband was getting even less. Work felt like a weight around my neck, not a life-giving calling. Muller was right: I was losing my way.
I was left with two questions: Why did I overlook the commandment about the Sabbath? What might change for me if I chose to obey God?
I began to say “no” to work one day a week. Sundown to sundown, Saturday to Sunday, I did no dishes, no laundry, no cooking unless it brought me joy, no work emails, no moving projects forward.
What I found was that observing Sabbath was much like savasana—supposedly good for you, but so hard to do. I felt such a pull to DO SOMETHING. I felt restless. Didn’t God know how hard it was to keep up with all my chores in seven days, let alone six? I was emotionally wiggly, waiting for the moment I could get back to work, the same way I felt on my yoga mat, eager for the teacher to say “namaste” at the end of class, my cue for “You may now go to Trader Joe’s and do your shopping.”
This realization has shaped both Sabbath AND savasana for me. I know the benefits of resting with just my breath at the end of a yoga practice, how it adds to and completes the work I’ve done in the more strenuous poses throughout class. I started to look at my Sabbath as a savasana for my week.
I have also deepened my trust that if God has said the Sabbath is good for us, the Sabbath must be good for us. I’ve taken that to the yoga mat, regarding savasana as a mini-Sabbath … time for me to rest with God and time to practice in small doses the keeping of this commandment. Sometimes I follow this meditation to guide me in savasana:
Be still and know that I AM God.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be.
There is time enough for the most important things. I am uncovering the rest, renewal, and delight that Jesus promises as I accept his invitation to set aside my own agenda and enter into the sacred pause.
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About Sarah:
Like many women, I wear a lot of hats. I’m a wife and a mama to three young people who both fill my heart with joy and help me see my flaws. I’m a yoga teacher who is enthusiastic about making the yoga mat accessible to everyone–kids, people with disabilities, older adults, people who think they aren’t flexible enough to do yoga, and the follower of Jesus that doesn’t yet know how yoga can be a powerful form of prayer. I’m a writer who explores hope and grief and gratitude in the everyday over at www.tellingagoodstory.com. When I have a moment to take off my many hats, I indulge my obsession with British television (where the hats are simply fabulous) or enjoy a cup of coffee (which I believe is proof of God’s love) on my porch under the Carolina blue sky in Charlotte, NC.
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