If I write the word “Fascinating,” how did you hear it in your head? Did you hear Christopher Eccleston’s Doctor, full of vim, vigor and sass? Or did you picture a cocked eyebrow and the detached intellectual bemusement of Spock?
Although I totally grok Spock, I have to admit, I’m the type of person who sees something shiny and goes berserk–which is why Mountain Pose is not my natural go-to. Also, it hardly looks like a spectacularly impressive yoga maneuver. To the outside observer, you are basically just standing there on your two feet. My bouncy scattered brain immediately begins to think “booooooorring….”
But in yoga class I’ve been taught it is deceptively complex. Every bone and every muscle has a place and when you’ve sorted it all out, you are left with a certain peace and a quiet readiness. Your head is down, so you feel a bit humble–which is good if you just successfully stood on your foot for 30 seconds and you are feeling cocky. But your hands are out and you are face forward and you suddenly feel this sensation of “Come at me, world. I can take it.”
After all, although Vulcans are generally calm, no one would claim that they are shallow. Those still waters run very deep, just ask the Romulans. And Pon Farr is no joke. They take their feelings, they handle them (maybe with a good old fashioned duel to the death), and then they rise above it.
The same might be said of the Jedi. You know Obi-Wan wanted to just smack Anakin sometimes. I know I do. But he kept it largely together, poor guy, even though the chosen one did make him eventually cry on a volcano.
Jedi/Vulcan chill is not my style by any means: on my best days I’m like Sarek hearing some Mozart at the end of his life. But when you stand in Mountain Pose and put your head just a little bit down, you can harness a bit of the Jedi/Vulcan balance of humility and readiness. The Vulcans are right, the world is full of infinite diversity in infinite combinations. And when you are still and a little chill, you might just be open to seeing it.