I’ve started back up with my at-home yoga practice this last week. I know that ideally, I should take from an instructor who can look at and correct my form. But for a variety of reasons, that’s not working out right now. So I’m doing what I can, and what I can do right now is practice at home with a few videos.
There is a pose which is in one of my videos called the Crow. It’s also in the P90X workout video set my husband Chris got as a birthday gift back in April.
The Crow is a perfect example, IMO, of the difference between “simple” and “easy.” It’s not a complicated pose, as yoga poses go. It’s fairly simple, when you get right down to it.
But it sure ain’t easy. I’ve yet to be able to hold the pose for more than a second.
I just finished reading Julie & Julia, about a woman who cooked her way through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year, and blogged the entire thing. She makes the important distinction between “simple” and “easy” as well. Lots of the recipes are simple. None of them are easy.
Writing is another thing that is simple but not easy, as I’ve learned over the years. We master the basic mechanics of it in grade school, for the most part. But the best writers are still learning how hard it can be after decades of practice.
It’s now August. Later this month, I will do two things: celebrate my 18th wedding anniversary, and return to college. Eighteen years ago this month, I got married and started college the first time. In many ways, that was my rough introduction to the world of “simple things that are hard as heck.”
What “simple but hard” things require is a patience for failure, for process, and for imperfection. That is something I had precious little of at eighteen.
Fortunately, nearly two decades of marriage and writing has changed that a bit. It almost had to, didn’t it?