No need to improve. You are that.

So you've noticed that you're breathing more fully, or you're regaining range of motion in your hips, or you're able to stand on one foot for longer, or you're sleeping better, or all of the above.

Or maybe you've noticed that it's THAT chick who is sticking Tree (Vrkshasana) and Headstand (Shirsasana), and today you are decidedly NOT.

Whether you are feeling encouraged or discouraged, remember that this yoga thing is not about self-improvement. It is about Self-realization.

Yes, your small-s "self" will improve. But not necessarily in the ways we expect or desire. The set of physical sensations, thoughts, emotions, and whatnot that makes up your individual self changes a LOT because you practice yoga.

But just go back to the old yogic texts when you need a reminder--and I so often do--that it's not really about that. Patanjali's Yoga Sutras devote a whole chapter to outlining all the siddhis--abilities--that may come about from a regular, intense, devoted yoga practice. Then the chapter ends with a warning: Don't let these newfound skills distract you from the real goal. What's the goal of yoga? The same as the process of yoga:

Remember the Self. Wake up to the realization that even though it seems like I'm just a small-s self wandering this earth bumping into other small-s selves, we're really all a part of something bigger. This is what the Upanishads call the Self (with a big S).

I prefer the verbs "realize" and "remember" because the yogic texts, and our own yoga practices, constantly show us that it's not a process of acquiring new information. This is something we know already, deep down, and we let ourselves forget it in the rush of getting things done. In fact, as amazing as the process of childhood and adolescent development is, it is really a process of building up a small-s self and creating a shell of personality (preferences, differences, opinions, divisions) around our basic, deep-down similarities and connections.

Once we do this successfully, we have a few choices. We can just keep shoring up the line of defense of that isolated self with more and more likes and dislikes, more rigid opinions, and so on...or we can begin to OBSERVE the process by which we do this and not be entirely threatened when we realize that the small-s self isn't all there is.

So whether you balance masterfully or tip over and laugh today, whether your hips ache in tightness or open lightly like flower petals to the sun, just remember what Uddalaka teaches his son in the Chandogya Upanishad. He tells his son to put salt in a cup of water and bring it to him.

"Where is that salt?" the father asks.
"I do not see it," the son replies.
"Sip here. How does it taste?"
"Salty."
"And here?"
Salty."
"And there?"
"I taste salt everywhere."
"It IS everywhere, though we see it not. Just so, dear one, the Self is everywhere, within all things, though we see it not. You are that."

You are that, dear ones. Tat tvam asi. You are already that which you seek. The Self, or whatever you prefer to name it.

So is everyone else. Now can we remember that as we leave our mats?

(The Chandogya Upanishad excerpt is adapted from Chapter VI of Eknath Easwaran's translation, a lovely one, loose for the sake of poetry and clarity.)