When you tell someone you’re a yoga teacher there’s an inference you are a being of peace with Hippie-like qualities. “Coexist” is the bumper sticker on your electric car as you drive to the farmer’s market to buy more kombucha scoby, right?
Not exactly.
If you practice the precepts of yoga, there is a desire lived out that all beings everywhere know peace. However, I firmly believe peace, and beings that desire peace, need to be protected. And sometimes protection means fighting. I won’t go looking for trouble, but if it shows up on my doorstep, I’d prefer to be ready.
This past Saturday I was parking my car on a side street. I was busy putting things in the trunk of the car. So busy in fact, I did not see someone approaching me. I shut the trunk, looking up just in time to see a man coming toward me. It was clear he meant to do me harm – a harsh, almost frantic look in his eyes, his shoulders rounded forward, his feet set and ready to run in my direction. He stood a mere three feet away from me.
My women’s intuition went off the chain – alarm bells were firing.
He realized I saw him. This stopped him briefly. The element of surprise had been taken from him.
A lot more would have been taken from him if he stepped closer. My next thought was “Go for his throat if he comes at you!” I would take his breath away.
I may be projecting, but I also think he faltered because of my size. I am not a small woman. When I stand to my full height, I am just shy of 6 feet.
It’s unfortunate to realize I can recall several times where my size has made a man think twice about trying something untoward with me.
When I can see someone is caught off guard by my height and potential strength, I admit my internal voice sounds something like this, “I fucking dare you!!” Food hardy I know, but God damn I will kick your ass or go down trying.
I must also admit, in moments like this I am equally terrified. My body is clenched and ready for whatever may come.
My saving grace? A couple walked around the corner. We were no longer alone. His face, now flustered and aggravated at this shift in events turned away from me. But he did not walk away. He stood close to the car. Was he seriously going to try a second time?
I didn’t wait to find out. I looked across the street. More people were starting to appear. I immediately walked towards them. There had been a light drizzle that evening. My umbrella was poised and ready to become a billy club.
It was an unfortunate event with a very fortunate ending. I am safe. He is gone.
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To have this happen the weekend before an incredibly powerful hashtag #metoo started to make its round on the internet made me revisit the encounter several times. As I read post after heart wrenching post of women who have experienced pain, suffering, loss, humiliation and fear at the hands of men, in combination of having just experienced a really shitty event, it reminded me of why I could never be a pacifist.
Even though this Saturday did not end in physical harm, the emotional and psychological damage is still there. As women, we live in constant threat of harm. And I say hell no to this threat. I refuse to live in a state of threat any more. I choose to fight.
And how do we fight? We fight by letting people know about this. We fight by sharing. We fight by speaking out and telling our story. We also fight by offering love and support to those who have been hurt, who wish not to speak out at the moment. We fight back with love.
I have experienced harassment, belittling language, uninvited hands on my body, a man I trusted trying to push his way into my dorm room while I hold the door shut hoping to God I’m strong enough to keep it closed.
I occasionally tell my students “fight for it” when they are about to lose their balance. Sometimes falling is inevitable, but sometimes balance needs to be fought for. Right now our society is out of balance. Right now we need to fight for things to be set on equal footing.
We must fight for peace. We must fight by taking a stand. We must fight by learning how to fight well and with stamina, to weather the storm until we can finally see light at the end of the tunnel.
I practice yoga to find internal peace. I teach yoga to help others find their own path to peace. I end class by encouraging others to share this peace with those they come in contact with. However, peace can only be properly shared and have a chance to grow within the context of safety. If we are not safe, if we do not feel safe, peace becomes that much harder to find and share.
I practice yoga, but I am not a pacifist. This does not mean beings everywhere don’t deserve peace. I still pray that young man may come to know peace. For if someone truly knows peace, truly and deeply in the fiber of their being, they will want it for others.
Nice Post. Thanks!