doubt

Managing people is an oxymoron. Or at least that’s how it seems to me right now. People do what they want. I’ve been lucky; 99% of the time what I want and what the people I supervise want are close enough that I don’t have to do anything drastic. Like say no.

Occasionally, teachers and receptionists (God forbid) have higher priorities than the well being of my little yoga studio.  They have families and bodies that sometimes get sick and need attention. Obviously. And then there are situations that are a little more ambiguous, and it feels to me like the needs of the studio aren’t getting met in some way and they should be. By someone other than me.  In these cases, I view it as my responsibility as a manager to draw a line, to say no, to be clear, to set rules.

And I find this incredibly, incredibly uncomfortable. I am filled with doubt no matter what I do. If I say yes when I kinda want to say no, I feel weak and ever so slightly resentful. If I say no, I feel like an unyielding bitch that everyone hates working for. I’m supposed to be flexible, right? I’m supposed to go with the flow. On the other hand, my job is to keep the place afloat and sometimes that means drawing lines and having personal boundaries around time.

A lot of what this boils down to is being unsure of myself. Desikachar writes: “We often determine we have seen a situation ‘correctly’ and act according to that perception. In reality, however, we have deceived ourselves, and our actions may thus bring misfortune to ourselves or others. Just as difficult is the situation in which we doubt our understanding of a situation when it is actually correct, and for that reason we take no action, even though doing so would be beneficial. The Yoga Sutra uses the term avidya to describe these two ends of the spectrum of experience.”

The problem is that I don’t really know. Being right feels great, so it’s super easy to put myself squarely in the righteous camp and hang out there for awhile. But then comes that nagging feeling. Avidya is sneaky because it could be that my perception is correct and appropriate and the doubt is avidya. Or it could be that my perception is harmful and incorrect and the doubt is a crack in the veil of avidya.

Who the hell knows? This is when a teacher would come in handy. My only teacher right now is my breath, which frankly could use some help with enunciation.

“The goal of yoga is to reduce the film of avidya in order to act correctly,” says Desikachar. I’m working on it, T.K.V.

I just have to hold both things. I have to live with some amount of doubt about my actions, but I have to act. I’m the business’s primary steward. Saying no to intelligent, reasonable adults is sometimes my job. Sometimes it’s also my responsibility to tell reasonable adults that their actions are harmful to me or to the studio. Sometimes what I decide interferes with what others had hoped for themselves, and they don’t like it. Luckily, I’m not Barack Obama or anything. I can make mistakes without killing all the life in the Gulf of Mexico or endangering lives in faraway (and nearby) lands. 

I’m just someone who’s particularly uncomfortable being uncomfortable. So it all seems like a big deal. My sane guess is that no one involved is currently thinking about me at all right now, which is really the biggest relief of all.

(Written in Word last night with no internet connection. Proven possible.)