I was in yoga class the other morning trying to do something I find very difficult and suddenly saw that learning Chinese and learning yoga have something in common.

It’s a challenging class, with some extremely advanced astanga practitioners, but we practice individually. The teacher comes around to assist and was encouraging me to do a series of balancing postures that I am really lousy at. My first reaction was to think, “I can’t.” But I took some deep breaths and tried to relax into the first position, and to accept the help. It wasn’t easy, but it definitely got better once I got past my anxiety–a feeling that almost amounted to a sense of panic.

It struck me that I react in a similar way to Chinese, to the idea of mispronouncing the sounds and tones, and to trying to get these very different words to lodge in my mind. This is where a sense of lightheartedness and fun is so important, and maybe a big part of why small children learn new languages so easily: they aren’t afraid of failure.

This morning I came in and asked Liz, “Ni de zhoumo hao ma?” I cheated: my son told me how to say it and gave me the tones, too: “ni3 de zhou1mo4 hao3 ma1.” (The numbers represent the tone.)

ni de - your
zhoumo - weekend
hao ma - how was?

Unfortunately, it didn’t occur to me that Liz might understand and reply! I was stuck, but it still made a good start to the week.