Sunday, September 23, 2007

No fearing

Saraswati and I had a moment today and its possible that she didn't even know it. (Sometimes I feel like a stalker that develops this entire relationship with someone without even knowing their name. Hmmm.)



Back bending. As I hung, suspended in the air, for a split second I thought to myself, "no fear". ("No fear" is one of Sharath's favorite sayings. He repeats it a lot. For a while I thought, "maybe this guy needs some new material". But actually, by repeating it, the simple lesson gets stuck where it needs to in our heads so that when we are in moments like this, it happens without even thinking about it. Imagine if fearlessness became a part of us all...)



Saraswati grabbed my left hand and took it to my leg. I think I grunted. I was up on my toes leaning my pelvis against this 60+ year old woman, trusting that she wouldn't drop me as she reached over to take my right hand to my leg. For a moment, my body seized as the nerves running through my body began to pulsate, vibrate, and ring. And then, peace. I planted my heels firmly on the ground. I engaged my legs and began to straighten them as if I were standing. I drew my elbows toward one another and felt my chest melting in a large arc toward the ceiling. I could feel all the bones in my body, my pelvis, my sacrum, my femurs, Saraswati's hands. And I breathed. And right when I usually spring up to stand, I rode the wave to the next breath. I was still there breathing. It was like crossing over to another lifetime. Saraswati let me stay there for a while. I was relaxing. With a little twitch of her hands I could tell that it was time to come up, and I did. My whole body vibrated intensely. I even wiggled a little from the electricity. I sat down and Saraswati ironed out my back with her hands like a shirt. She stayed with me longer than ever before. I think I groaned and smiled and still she stayed. We had a moment and I'm not sure that she knew it.



The last few weeks of back bending have been very interesting. As Saraswati put it, "that arm no good". The right side of my body feels open and clean. In a back bend, the entire side feels smooth like the energy is sweeping up and down then entire length of my body. But on the left side, it feels like a knitting project gone bad. All the yarn is knotted up and needs help being untangled. But today there was some real progress. I could feel the difference even if there was a visible discrepancy between the placement of my hands on my legs. At the coconut stand a friend said, "back bending twist!"



The practice is a lot like this. Things are good. You're doing it. Maybe it even feels easy or (gasp) fun. And then one day it all shatters to pieces. I remember that in David Byck's book, he explains how he tackled this a couple of times in asanas. Maybe you experience it in just getting into a schedule to practice. I know I have. So, sometimes everything shatters to pieces and it feels like it will always be that way until one bright sunny day or gloomy grey one, you discover to much surprise and great amazement that the pieces have miraculously been glued back together.

I got salambasana today. There is always an energy between the teacher and student. I think that we can both sense when we are ready for the next thing or when we need to work. Today I had a feeling that she would give me salambasana. I did pasasana and krounchasana (the first and second poses of second series, but also the last two that I practice before starting back bending and finishing postures), but didn't hear from Saraswati as I went into back bending. I did three back bends (also called wheel or urdhva dhanurasana), each one walking my hands closer to my feet until the third wheel when I touched and grabbed my legs with my hands. After my last exhale, I stood up on the inhale. Saraswati was helping the person in front of me with supta vajrasana (see picture on left from ashtangayoga.info).


"Your last pose, " she asked.



"Krounchasana, " I said.



"Huh?"


"Krounchasana," I repeated.


"Salambasana." She instructed. Even though I knew that she wanted me to back track and do it now I still said, "right now?" Obviously, she didn't respond. I knew the answer. (see pics of Salambasana a & b on the right from ashtanga.info.)


Mysore Book Club. I just finished Lolita and have just started Shantaram. It is really big, but is a Mysore must-read. EVERYONE is reading it right now... I also heard that maybe there will be a movie coming up...Something about Johnny Depp?

Video of Supta Vajrasana with Guruji in New York:




4 comments:

  1. i notice that really good intuitive teachers can see what is going on with you. i would bet she was having the moment with you, too.
    and i say that to myself a lot, "no fear, only God thinking."

    ReplyDelete
  2. 25 Sept, 2007-09-25

    Last evening I was listening to a few people talk about their practice and what they can or can not do. Before I knew it I was thinking the same thing – oh how I suffer with my backbends and handstands. After a short while I began to feel a bit down and became anxious as to when I’m going to be able to master my own practice. Fortunately common sense stepped in and reminded me that I have a lifetime to work at it.

    Good luck with your practice and journey and it’s good to know you enjoyed my book.

    Peace,

    david byck

    ReplyDelete
  3. thanks guys! I am continuously amazed by the sense of support and community that this practice has provided...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi Elise
    Very insightful your observations of your left side versus your right side. I must have one of those conditions of "left side no good" that needs to be ironed out. My boat tends to tilt to the left on Navasana, and in all of those where the legs are extended up as well. I was told by a teacher that maybe my right psoas was constricting. But I don't feel tightness there, but I feel tightness on the left side. So I think it's the left psoas that is constricting, in my case. You're developing a lot of intuition.
    Namaste,
    Arturo

    ReplyDelete