Your Job is to Step on the Mat
I arrive at the studio and unroll my mat. A few minutes later, the teacher walks into the room. She flips the switch to turn on the fluorescent lights, and we all jump to our feet. Each of us steps onto our mat. It doesn’t matter how well we did yesterday or the day before; we all know we must step onto the mat and start where we are today.
Every day, we step into our business with fresh challenges and renewed determination. Just like in yoga, the path of an entrepreneur involves repetitive tasks, relentless effort, and constant challenges to stretch us beyond our limits.
Bikram yoga is an intense, steamy, sweaty practice. After years of practice, I have a love-hate relationship with each pose. It’s always the same 26 poses in the same order. I curse inwardly as I struggle to maintain half-moon, the most torturous pose for me right now. Sweat drips off my nose onto my knee as I balance in eagle pose, and I smile as I raise both legs off the ground, making what had felt impossible only a month ago possible in locust pose.
My mind wanders, and I think about my dad, who was an athlete. He played soccer into his sixties with men much, much younger than him. He sweated as he strode across the football pitch, heading the ball into the goal with ease like a beautiful ballet.
I, on the other hand, am no athlete. In beach volleyball, the teacher called me “Princess.” I forged sick notes to avoid PE, and my training for a 5k involved drinking till 2 am and smoking 40 cigarettes. And yet, here I am, addicted to hot yoga!
Entrepreneurship often feels like this. Many of us start with little to no experience, feeling out of place or inadequate. At time we might not believe in our abilities. But once we find our passion, we commit ourselves to it, day in and day out. We can't help ourselves.
As I move into tree pose, I face off with myself in the mirror, my eyes landing on my third eye. “I see you,” something within me whispers. I realized suddenly that after six months of daily practice, I was getting stronger and more dedicated. I could feel the adrenaline of exercise and was craving it. Is this what it feels like to be an athlete?
As I lay down on the ground that day for the floor series, I felt a strong wave of emotion sweep over me and a deep connection with my dad. I never truly understood his passion for playing football and running from pier to pier on the beach. As I moved with strong focus into the next poses—cobra, bow, and rabbit—my emotions felt like they were beginning to break out of their cage inside me.
My dad had Huntington’s disease. It is a cruel combination of Parkinson’s disease, ALS, and Alzheimer’s all in one body. In that moment, I suddenly and clearly understood the intense loss my dad must have felt for not being an athlete anymore. To feel so unsteady and weak after a lifetime of strength and agility must feel like losing yourself.
I felt tears on my cheeks and gathered my focus back on my breath as I tried to twist my back like a pearl necklace, the teacher’s voice guiding me. As we did our last sit-up and kneeled on the mat for our final breathing exercise, the breath of fire, I struggled to hold it together.
The teacher methodically clapped the cadence of our breath for us. I fell into the rhythm and fell apart. A deep primal cry came up from my belly. It shook the room and certainly shook me. Suddenly, I was no longer in control. I sobbed like I had never sobbed before and had always wanted to. The deep release felt so good. I surrendered and just let the waves of emotion sweep over me like an orgasm.
I didn’t care that this was not one of the poses; I didn’t care that I was in the middle of yoga class. At that moment, maybe for the first time in my life, I truly didn’t care what anyone thought of me.
As the class ended, I lay on my mat, sobbing. The teacher came and kneeled by my side. “This moment is a gift,” she told me. I felt the sacredness of the moment between us. She held me as the last waves of emotion subsided. Knowing just when to leave, she stood up and walked out of the room. I rose, feeling lighter. “You did that for all of us,” one lady told me as I left the studio. “Thank you,” she said. I smiled. Everything was all right. There was no need for words.
In entrepreneurship, there are moments of intense emotional release and breakthroughs. We face our struggles, our failures, and our doubts. But if we stick with it, if we keep stepping onto our mat, we find strength and clarity. These moments of vulnerability and emotional release are gifts. They help us grow, move beyond barriers, and eventually breakthrough the challenges in our path.
You may not need to break down to move forward in your business, but you will need to step on the mat each day, start where you are and shine your light.
Keep showing up and you will find your breakthroughs. There will be moments of clarity and connection where you understand the deeper purpose behind your efforts. You will feel the progress, the small victories that indicate you are moving in the right direction.
We are all gold medalists, destined to uncover the athlete and successful business person within ourselves.
Just step on the mat. You got this!