We Speak Pilates

It wasn’t the acrid, burning, pit-of-my-stomach feeling of shame; it was more of a nagging ache. It was morning, maybe late November or early December, and I was choosing not to get on my mat. My persona of Pilates instructor, my ego, my inner leader… all staring back at me from the mirror that day with disappointed looks. The studio I had spent 4 years building is unique because I only hire career teachers who use the method in their own lives, and here I was choosing not to. Avoidance, overwhelm, burnout… who knows what excuse I was using to rationalize the choice… I was making it, and I immediately felt ashamed.

I wrote to my mentor and asked about her invite-only “graduate” program. She graciously took my call and asked me to reflect honestly on whether I have enough time in my life at the moment to take on the program’s requirements. “The last thing I want is to have to kick you out for not showing up.”

It wasn’t a no. It was really an invitation to think deeply about where I was, who I was, and what I was capable of adding into my already complex equation. I was being given permission to audit my attention and use the knowledge and skill I’ve gained through practicing Pilates to gain awareness of where in my day-to-day I’ve got overcompensation that is not corrective.

That line, “overcompensation that is not corrective,” is a quote from my mentor, Sandy Shimoda, spoken at our Contrology Handbook book club today. I missed the meeting and was lucky enough to have a recording to watch. You see, this morning I had the opportunity not to jump up and leave for work straight away, as is usual on Saturday mornings. So I chose to stay in bed and do the crossword puzzle with my family, eat pancakes, walk the dog… when I mentioned to my husband that I was missing my book club, he asked, “At what point are you going to realize that you’re doing too much?” It’s a valid question, and it was not asked in exasperation but with the pragmatism and steadiness he embodies naturally.

I left for my dog walk with his question rattling around in my head, and about 20 steps into Golden Gate Park, I glimpsed the whole picture of the last 7 months: there is not just one me, and I’m not just doing one thing. I am studio owner, teacher, student, mother, child, friend, wife, and on and on… and my body lives with each of those people. I am many lives at once. Multiple bodies in time, and none of them is waiting in the wings. All of them are happening. The standards I put in front of myself don’t lower; they stretch across time and circumstance.

The last line in Simone Weil’s book Gravity and Grace reads, “No poetry concerning the people is authentic if fatigue does not figure in it, and the hunger and thirst which come from fatigue.” And to that I say, no physical discipline is authentic if fatigue does not figure in it. You would not need discipline if it came easily and left you satisfied.

The shame a fitness professional feels when they are unable or unwilling to perform nags the ego. When we get out of our own way, bring attention to our myriad circumstances, forgive in the sense that we understand… we see clearly that the work is still working, no matter if we’re on the mat or in the park.