A matter of trust

Another year went by.

When I started practicing Ashtanga I had to face a matter of trust.

Like in a narrative when you have to pursue the suspension of disbelief - that magic moment when your reader accepts what you are saying because you, like an almighty god, created a full real(istic) world - I had to believe that in the long run the practice would work.

The difference was that while a reader actually wants to believe, after all that's the reason why they bought or borrowed a novel, our mind at times is not really sold on that idea - at least at the beginning - when we start a new activity. Yes, there can be excitement, interest, but at times no real belief. We might like to prove ourselves wrong, to test our incompetence... it's a self-destructive thing some of us do have, more or less developed. The unvoiced need to undermine confidence, the exact opposite of the suspension of disbelief.

It was a quick thing, didn't last long at all; and when it was overcome, everything went well. I had accepted myself as an Ashtanga practitioner, started caring for it and for myself, and so the practice took me in.