My relationship with football is complicated to say the least. I was raised in DC where the dinner conversation often led to the Redskins, and Sundays in the fall were sacred for two reasons, and football came first. My husband coached high school football for 20 years, and both of our sons played from the time they were very young. Our oldest played in college and is now a coach himself. So, I have had no choice but to embrace the game and the intense passion that it brings out in the people who play it and coach it (and watch it!). When 11 people do exactly what they are supposed to do in a well-designed football play, it is a thing of beauty.

And it is also so violent…which complicates things for me, the yoga practitioner and teacher who practices ahimsa and treasures nonviolence above most everything else.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to plan classes this month that do more than focus on the old standard theme of LOVE in February. In doing so, I’ve been asking myself the question—what is it about love for me that challenges, that excites, that motivates, that tests my spirit. What I’ve come up with in this reflection are two words: Courage and vulnerability.

And this leads me back to football, which demands huge amounts of both. And both sit squarely in the heart center. If you’ve watched any football this fall and winter, you’ve witnessed displays of courage every time the ball is snapped, and vulnerability every time a quarterback drops back to pass, or a receiver runs down field to try to catch a ball. Moments of sheer joy when things go right are bookended by so much that doesn’t work out—broken plays, dropped balls, huge sacks, plain old mistakes even from people who are at the pinnacle of their sport. But they go right back to the line of scrimmage and try again. Many of the games have been epic (and that Michigan v Ohio State game?? Brilliant!! Go Blue!)

I do know the risks involved and the damage that can be inflicted while playing the game of football. I have watched in a panic as my sons lined up on the field, knowing that they could be seriously injured every time the ball is snapped. But through the injuries and all of it, I have seen them face their fears and failures, exalt in their successes and victories, and develop huge hearts. The game taught them how to do the thing when you’re terrified, to trust that the other people out there with you will have your back, and to make peace with the fact that you will get sacked, drop the ball, or mess up, and people will see. Courage. Vulnerability.

The scene in Friday Night Lights where the line, “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” comes from has stuck firmly in my memory since the first time I watched it. Coach Taylor pushed the players to their limits to teach an incredibly valuable lesson: If you want to play the game, you must play with your whole being.

And this leads me to yoga (“finally!” you’re saying to yourself). Opening ourselves up as the practice asks us to do takes courage. When we come to our mats, we find ourselves in a different state each time. Will we have the courage to really see what’s there, what’s happening? Will we be able to be vulnerable? Will we be able to show up with our whole being—with clear eyes and full hearts—trusting that if we do, we truly can’t lose? Because that is LOVE. Love, real love--between couples, friends, siblings, parents and children, whatever the combination—love takes courage to drop our egos and put someone else first. To be vulnerable enough to share our feelings, hopes, dreams, fears, failings. Yoga can help us become more open hearted, more wholehearted, more real. So that we can love ourselves and others more deeply.

So, this month, let’s move forward with clear eyes and full hearts. Let’s play the game of life like football (okay, maybe like flag football so we don’t have to hit anyone). On and off our mats, let’s be courageous in our relationships and in our work, let’s be vulnerable, let’s be kind, let’s BE LOVE.

LET’S GO!

Love,
Kate