Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Good croissant, bad croissant

                                                      

  This morning, I arrived bright and early at the studio.  My shift begins at 7:30, and I was opening the doors at 7:23.  As I took in the morning energy of the lovely neighborhood that is Lincoln Square, with all its residents getting ready for their day, walking to the train or walking their dogs on their way to grab their morning cup of coffee, I remembered that a French pastry chef works at the corner coffee shop.
  As some of you know, I am always on the search for a good croissant.  Always... I have been tipped off by my coworkers that the ones for sale at the coffee shop are divine.  So, even though I brought enough food from home to feed myself through my multiple hunger pangs today, I decided I would splurge and treat myself to a croissant and do a little reconnaissance of the talented pastry chef's baked goods.

  As I opened the door to the shop, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sounds of the espresso machine being put to work again and again delighted my senses.  I immediately spotted the croissants, strategically placed in the corner of the display case, facing the door as you enter the space.  They did indeed look legit.  Perfectly golden brown. My gluttony sensors had been awoken.

  I walked up to the register and patiently waited for the girl behind the counter to finish pouring a fresh cup of coffee to the lady in front of me.  She had brought her own reusable stainless steel cup.  I appreciated her effort, as I knew that not only was it better for the environment, but her coffee would also taste much better out of her reusable mug, than it would out of a flimsy paper cup.
  After exchanging courteous greetings with the clerk, I asked her for a plain and a chocolate croissant.  I figured I would try them both out, because, why not? She placed them both in a brown paper bag, I paid and went back to the studio to begin my work day.

  Once the first class of the day was signed in, I washed my hands, and set my self up for breakfast.  I spread my orange cloth napkin on the counter, and set both croissants on top of it.  I poked them each, and the dough slightly crackled under my fingers, releasing a few bits of brown buttery goodness onto the napkin.  Good sign.  I decided to start with the plain croissant, since in my opinion, even a mediocre chocolate croissant is good, but a plain croissant can be great or awful, depending on the level of skill, love and craftsmanship of the baker.
                                                                    

  I pulled at both ends of the crescent shaped bread, to break it in half.  To my disappointment, the layers of dough didn't slowly unfold from one another  the way they do in a perfect freshly baked, buttery croissant.  It had a lot more resistance than I was hoping for, and my suspicions were confirmed once I took the first bite.  Instead of melting in my mouth, this croissant was a bit chewy, almost gooey. Oh well, it was still a croissant. I ate half, as I had already decided upon purchasing it that it would be my breakfast, and then I moved on to the chocolate.  Once again, not as fresh as I was hoping for... I put both halves back in the bag, and within minutes I felt incredibly full, and a bit gross.
 
  As the morning progressed, I couldn't shake off that sensation from my stomach, and I beat myself up several times for overindulging and purchasing two different pastries, when I actually had breakfast in my lunch box.  I didn't feel good all day that day and I wondered many times if it was just a bad day for the baker, and I chose the wrong day to try out the croissants.
  Then I thought of how I tend to correct myself (and others) for the misuse of the word "need" ( not to be confused with the word "want").  And it dawned on me, that sometimes, we could really benefit from not only using the correct word as we express our desires and feelings in sentences, but also of considering, before making a choice, if it is a need or a want, and if we really want to follow through with it.

   Had I taken the time to consciously debate whether or not to purchase the croissants, I would have ended up talking myself out of it as I already had too much food for the day.  And perhaps on another day, when I hadn't brought food and was hungry, I would have gotten a croissant, and it would have been wonderful. Instead, I now think of the croissants at the corner coffee shop as just ok, and due to my hard headed nature (thanks Dad :)) there is a good chance I won't try them again any time soon.

                                                       

 A few days later, as I was teaching a class, I noticed my student trying to force himself into extended side angle pose (Utthita Parsvakonasana). Although he could technically do it, he wasn't really ready for it.  Instead of his spine lengthening,  and space being created around his rib cage and his chest, in the way that a body who is flexible and strong enough to be in the full expression of this particular asana will , I saw the opposite action occurring, starting from his hips, and following all the way to his neck and jaw muscles. There was crunching, and tension, and absolutely no length whatsoever. 

  " Just because you can, it doesn't mean you should" I heard myself telling him.  " You can get more benefits from this pose if you back up a little, instead of forcing yourself into it through ambition.  Listen to your body, and accept where it is today, without comparing it to yesterday, or to someone else's".  As he backed up, and rested his forearm on his thigh, instead of reaching for the floor with his hand, I saw his chest open, his spine grow, and his face relax.  And I immediately thought of the croissants: " Just because you can, it doesn't mean you should..."

  The truth of the matter is, we almost always react rather than act.  And of course, sometimes, it's ok - or even good - to do something just because we can.  But in most cases, we could really benefit from having an internal dialogue in which we ask ourselves the purpose, as well as the possible consequences of our actions.   By really considering our actions and choices, we could prevent many potential mistakes, and save ourselves - and often times others - a lot of time, trouble, and even money.

If we practice being present, and a bit of awareness towards ourselves, we might find that in many cases,  even though we can, we probably really shouldn't, and will definitely feel a lot better knowing that we didn't...




 

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