Ten Thousand Hours

I've had this Macklemore song "Ten Thousand Hours" stuck in my head lately. 

It's a song about practicing your art, not giving up on it. It's a song about how success comes from working hard, from devotion. 

This is dedication

A life lived for art is never a life wasted

Ten thousand

Ten thousand hours felt like ten thousand hands

Ten thousand hands, they carry me

When I listen to Macklemore rap about how he fought his way to the top — how he had to work his way from the basement to the studio — I can't help but feel mad respect for him. He kept going. He kept the faith, trusting that the process would work. He trusted himself.

The song makes me think about my yoga, too.

Yoga is an ongoing practice. The advanced postures require hours, even years, of training. I didn't just wake up one morning and say, "I want to put my foot behind my head," and then do it. I've fallen out of headstand more times than I've held it. To put it lightly, I've struggled.

 

But that struggle has been worth the pain and frustration. That struggle has allowed me to earn the rush and the joy that comes from realizing a new pose.

The journey of yoga, the struggle, holds an implicit value. The mat challenges us to explore what we're capable of. Yoga transforms us into stronger people.

And we get there by trying, over and over, practicing.

Macklemore says it this way:

The greats weren't great because at birth they could paint

The greats were great cause they paint a lot

Next time you fall out of a pose or have a moment in class where you think, "I can't do this," pause for a moment. Breathe.

Remember you are simply on your 10,000 hour-journey toward holding the pose.

Thank yourself for being true to where you are. Smile. Take the eyebrows up.

Recall: you're doing the best work of your life. You will be transformed.

You never know... you could find yourself at the mat on a quiet afternoon, kicking your feet over your head, hovering in a forearm balance. You're floating above the floor, wondering how it's possible, astonished that your feet aren't touching the wall.

Finding the pose. Letting it find you, hold you.

Put those hours in and look at what you get

Nothing that you can hold, but everything that it is