Get It Wrong

Last weekend I had the pleasure of attending a three-day Sanskrit workshop through my yoga school. It was taught by an endearing instructor, Joshua Michaell, who made the trip from San Francisco to offer an intensive training on the Sankskrit language and yoga philosophy. I had been looking forward to this workshop because I love learning languages, especially one that is so essential to the study of yoga. While I was amazed at Josh's ability to make pronunciation of this new language so effortless, the most memorable lesson for me was a demonstration of two very different models of learning. 

According to the first model, which is prevalent in this country, the way that we are trained to think places the emphasis of learning on Getting It Right. We want to give the right answer, perform the calculation correctly, or pronounce the word properly. Our goal is not understanding what we are learning or immersing ourselves in it for the pure joy of learning. Instead our primary concern is to Get It Right and to avoid Getting it Wrong at all costs. If we Get It Right, we think other people will see us as smart and good and successful. Getting It Wrong feels bad and makes us think we're failures or that there is something wrong with us. Our beliefs about ourselves have become tightly bound to our ability to Get It Right, and there is a lot of pressure and fear to not Get It Wrong.

As a straight-A student throughout my life, I relate to this dichotomy very easily. When you believe that you are smart because you have the right answers, feeling good about yourself hinges on your continued ability to give the right answer. Even when I would get an A on an exam, I could be devastated by getting one question wrong. I never wanted to raise my hand to answer questions from the teacher because I was terrified of giving the wrong answer in front of all of my classmates. That would prove I wasn't smart at all, and everyone would see that I was a fraud. As you can imagine, it felt great to be successful but under the surface I lived with a constant fear of falling from that perch. No matter how many times I Got It Right, every situation presented another opportunity to Get It Wrong.  

Is there another way? Can I change my perspective? What if I take away all the judgments that go along with Getting It Wrong? What if I approach Sanskrit with the honest joy that I have to meet the language and to revel in the new sounds I discover? Josh gave me the opportunity to test out this model of learning during his workshop. He asked the class to accept that all sounds were equally good; therefore, there was no way for anyone to make a wrong sound. Then he took it one step further. He asked us to put our belief in that statement into action because he would later be asking for volunteers to recite Sanskrit vowel sounds to the class. There would be no reason not to shoot your hand into the air when he asked for volunteers, even if you weren't sure of what sounds to make. If any sound was as good as the next, then you couldn't Get It Wrong.

Yet I was still terrified of raising my hand without confidence in my ability to make the right sounds. I didn't feel prepared. I wanted more time to ensure I would be able to Get It Right. Then Josh told us to take a deep breath, and he asked for a volunteer. It may seem low risk but in that moment my heart was pounding. I was raising my hand without knowing the answer! And so were eighteen of my classmates! It was scary, but I also felt a rush of excitement at breaking out of a pattern that never fit right in the first place.

As luck would have it, Josh called on me. And I didn't know the sounds to sing. In fact, I panicked and had to ask for help from my classmates. Three beautiful people joined their voices with mine to chant the line. Nobody thought I was dumb or a failure, and I realized that I didn't either! What a tremendous gift–a simple and honest way to think about new experiences in my life. It will take practice to make this thinking a habit, but I am happy to unload my fear of making a mistake in order to focus on my love of learning. 

Fear of Failing

When we are faced with a new opportunity or challenge, the biggest obstacle to taking the leap is often fear. The questions pile up in our minds. What if I'm not good enough? What if I don't succeed? What will people think of me? As I was deciding to apply to yoga teacher training, I was no different. What if I don't have what it takes to be a good teacher? What if I sound nervous when I speak in front of the group? What if I can't learn to do a handstand? No matter how excited we may be about a new experience, we usually encounter these type of questions and the doubt they generate may prevent us from saying yes.

Our questions stem from fear, and often this fear is based on judgments that we unconsciously make about ourselves. We think we might not be good enough to accomplish what is in front of us, so we decide it's better to not even try. It is difficult to let go of the expectations that we have for ourselves in a situation. But instead of comparing ourselves to the imaginary picture we create in our minds, we can accept that who we are in the moment is enough. We all need to be a little easier on ourselves, and we need to show ourselves the same kindness that we show others. 

Stopping the cycle of fear and self-judgment is liberating. It allows us to greet new challenges with enthusiasm and an open mind. Will I have what it takes to be a good teacher? I don't know, but I'm going to give my best effort and know that it's all I can do. What if I sound nervous when I speak in front of the group? The truth is that no one is going to judge me for that except for me. I can decide to accept that I'm nervous and not inflate that into a judgment that I am somehow lacking. What if I can't learn to do a handstand? Then I can't do a handstand. I'll keep practicing.