I've been a bit shy to talk about my relationship with
Kapha, mainly because I feel like a poster-child for it. “Kapha-imbalance” seems to be another way of
saying “fat,” and though I know it’s more complicated than that, it can feel
like every bit of advice, every word of an article, every chapter of an Ayurvedic book examining Kapha is pointing at me, saying, “Come on, already,
Crystal! These are your problems – we all know it! DO something about it!”
Of course, I know that’s my ego, trying to convince me that
I’m more noticeable, more in need, more everything
than anyone else. I struggle with Vata and Pitta issues as well,
just as we all do, but I’m not so scared of or insecure about those struggles. As I listened to people talk about their own relationship
with Kapha at the meeting last night, I could hear the same frustrations that I've felt. After I came home, I realized I
was so busy listening to them that I didn't have time to check how much visible
fat those people speaking had.
How thankful I am for those moments of clarity, when I can
see how I hold myself to a different set of standards than I hold everyone
else. My self-standards are surprisingly
strict, with a very narrow definition of “good” and “acceptable.” My seasonal work (which I suspect will be
recurring as often as the seasons) has been (continues to be) expanding that definition
to be a bit closer to the one I apply to the rest of the people in the world.
In our culture, it’s sexier to have a Vata imbalance – you’re
busy, so you must be needed. It’s sexier
to have a pitta imbalance – you’re so driven and hard-working; you've got a
good work ethic. It’s not so sexy to
have a Kapha imbalance – you’re lazy and blobby, a couch potato. In our culture, it’s also always sexier to
focus on the negatives, the imbalances, the things that aren't right, lest
someone think we have the audacity to be well-adjusted and even a bit self-assured (gasp!).
If I can rid myself of this overly-simplistic definition of Kapha = fat,
I see how my Kapha nature has given me confidence and strength. I am generally unruffled by life, able to
accept reality without too much drama. Steady. I have an abundance of love, and it is easy
for me see beauty. Practical strangers
have told me I have that “Mother Earth” vibe.
I am adaptable, flexible, willing to go with the proverbial flow. These
qualities, when I write them, should be celebrated more often. So what if my forward fold doesn't fold very
forward? So what if I get sinus
infections, have allergies, retain water, and love ice cream?
With this Kapha-imbalance, I have to carefully watch how
much I say, “So what?” Kapha can make me
want to give up too soon. Here’s the real difficult dance: I need to show Kapha my stick. I don’t need to beat
myself with it.
