Battle Scars and tips for laghuvajrasana

It is my "me" day and no one is around. I've got my place to myself with no real pressing obligations. I decide to put on this organic clay, cruelty-free, green tea, etc., etc. face mask. As I smear the cold green goop across my cheeks and over my chin, I notice a dark mark. I gave it a little rub thinking that somehow I got tire grease from two days ago or subway funk from yesterday stuck under my chin and forgot to wash it off. And then I remembered the day prior and my spirited attempts at pincha mayurasana + jump back. On one of these joyous little hand-slide, tree-falling like landings, my chest was too low between my hands and my chin knocked the floor in time with the balls of my feet, and then I was in chatarunga. I didn't pay it much heed until that moment in the mirror.

I recall other tell-tale ashtanga practice battle scars. The time I was learning bhujapidasana + jump back and I fell smack on my face. The many times I landed on my chin. Bruises on the tops of my feet from triangmukha ekapada paschimottanasana. Waddling home every day after practice during that first month of deep assists in supta kurmasana. The bruises on the backs of my arms when I finally learned the bhujapidasana exit vinyasa. The throbbing pain in my low back after I started second series that sent panic over my whole body whenever I missed a step. The bruises I had on my wrists after my first attempt at supta vajrasana.

And then there are the new ones. The cat-scratch like marks on my shoulders which I think are blood blisters that come and go depending on the day from supta vajrasana. The return of the bruises on the backs of my arms from bakasana and bakasana transitions. The sore neck and upper back muscles from leg-behind-the-head poses. The burning thighs that sear with every pressing of my foot on the bike pedal and every stair I see from tittibhasana. And now, the rug burns on my elbows from pincha mayurasana and the bruise on my chin from the exit vinyasa.

But I feel great! Looking forward to practice tomorrow where I get another chance to conquer my fear of falling over in pincha mayurasana and finally get up and hold in one kick.

Today in practice I noticed someone new at lagu (and like most of us) struggling to figure it out. I am by no means an expert and am not the person with the greatest lagu ever. But, I have struggled with the pose and every time I go for it, there is a chance that I won't make it out! So here are some things that have helped me, and maybe they will help you.

1. When you are in parva dhanurasana and dhanurasana, you kick strongly with your shins into your hands, away from your butt. Try to really get into this action and remember what it feels like. This is going to help you come up.

2. It is easier to come up with your hands closer to your knees. However, this is no longer the correct method. The hands should be around the ankles.

3. Once you have your ankles with your hands, hold on tight.

4. As you begin to lower down, try to keep your pelvis moving forward (away from the floor). But remember, this isn't a back bend like kapotasana. You are reaching your pelvis forward to keep control of your center of gravity.

5. Also, as you lower down, keep kicking your feet and shins into the floor as in dhanurasana. This will keep your legs active and your pelvis and center of gravity moving toward your knees and away from the floor.

6. Be sure to keep your grip tight with your hands.

7. It helps some people to have the wrists resting over the heels. When you are ready to come up, simultaneously kick your feet and shins down, shift your pelvis forward, and flick your wrists (you can push off from your heels with your wrists) pressing the hands firmly down into your legs and coming up.

Okay, that is one way. The other way is:

sapta: inhale jump to shins with hands on waist

astau: exhale laghuvajrasana for five breaths

nava: inhale come up with hands on waist

Finding ease in difficulty

I was one part relieved to practice primary today (hoping for a relaxing/comforting practice) and two parts so tired I wanted to just go to sleep. It has been a long, emotionally and physically taxing week and I'm spent. After teaching early this morning, I tried not to think and just let my feet drag me down to the shala. I had no proper practice clothes (not so fun with all the jumping and no sports bra), was tired, sore, etc. I let all that leave my mind and replaced it with thoughts of my breath, my gaze, and sticking to the vinyasa. I was particularly amazed at how much less flexible my hamstrings were compared to last week's full vinyasa. And no, I did not do full vinyasa today. Just half vinyasa, which is really regular vinyasa. Anyway...

Dragged myself home after practice looking forward to some peace and a couple of runny eggs, but alas the bf had already eaten the last two. No problem! I took a breath (very yogically[sp]) and had yogurt instead with some toast which turned out to be a bit moldy but no problem! Nothing is going to ruin my peace today. I caught Obama on the View. Yes, I do enjoy some ridiculous daytime television. So what?

As I type, I'm looking at the enormous pile of laundry and just cannot be bothered. It will have to wait. Today the priority is putting together April's Living Mysore Magazine which is really exciting...

Pincha is getting much better, but not in the sense that one might assume. Its about getting confident. It is knowing that when you kick, you'll get there. It is the same with any posture. Its practicing with mindfulness and integrity. Mid kick, this is what my teacher told me (even though I was really enthusiastic about getting my hands to shift as evidenced by my rug wrinkled at the top of my mat). He said that it wasn't so much the jump back, but coming up with confidence that he was looking for. Everyone has something different to work on, and I guess that's my challenge. It makes sense though. I think about how a few months from now I'll be back in Mysore and eventually maybe getting to pincha mayurasana and kicking up with confidence. You've got to otherwise you'll fall on top of someone!

The work

So what is "the work"? I think it depends a bit on the perspective. In the previous post, I was referring to certain incidents that made my role as a teacher particularly challenging. I'm thinking about:

-teaching a class at a certain level that it is advertised as and the students aren't willing to practice at that level. Let's say it was a basics class, but the students who came were more advanced and refused to listen to instructions for a basic level class. In a basics class, much of the learning is visual, so a beginner will look to someone who looks like they know what they are doing and will copy them, no matter if it corresponds with the verbal instructions given by the instructor. This isn't specifically what happened, but it was similar, and anyway, this has happened before.

The point isn't to control the class and have a power trip. It is that the lesson that is trying to be conveyed will not be clear and will be of less benefit to all of the students. In this case, doing the work would mean humbling oneself and taking the class that is being taught or being honest with oneself and choosing to attend a more appropriate class rather than disrupting other students and disrespecting the instructor.

Now I realize that this is not the intention of the student. I know. I've been that student. You're at class and you want to get your practice in. You remember something you learned in another class, last week, or something that might feel good and you do it because it is your time to do yoga. And then up comes the teacher (maybe) and you're like "what a jerk!". I know, I've totally been there!

-Failing to inform instructor beforehand of injuries and concerns. Might not seem like a big deal, but can be really difficult as a teacher. The work here would be being honest about physical limitations (letting go of ego), but also trusting the instructor to do their job. Oh, and listening to the teacher's advice on how to approach practice with these in consideration.

Okay, so upon further thought, I think that most other things I could mention fall into these main categories of "doing the work":

1. Listening to your teacher

this means that you have an open dialogue with your instructor about what is going on with you and trusting them to give you well-informed feedback. They have seen so many bodies over the course of their careers that it is probable that they know what they are talking about. Both of the above example fall under this category.

2. Practicing like you mean it

example: if you saw my back bending video, you saw me fidgeting around, thinking about how I felt tight, how it was cold, how I was hungry, how I was tired, etc. Did I need to to that? No. I let myself do it. I gave myself permission to give up. So doing the work here is pushing your edge. It also means practicing wholeheartedly and consistently. That's when you really see results.

Hey, none of us are perfect, that's why they call it practice! We all have to work at doing the work.

I think everything falls into those two categories, but I'll have to think about it. This is such an overwhelming topic. It deserves much more than what I've worked through here. Any thoughts?

Live to practice or practice to live

I missed and missed practice at the shala this morning. It wasn't my fault, but was probably for the best. Spent half an hour waiting on a train platform to get there and when it was clear that the train was either not coming or I was going to be way too late, I walked home.

I haven't had coffee in years. I hadn't had a deuce since Monday. I decided that instead of farting up the shala, I'd get a coffee and take matters into my own hands. It worked. And now I get a nice practice at home with music in the background. And why not? Was today the day I'd get karandavasana? Maybe. Should that matter? Nope. Do I live to practice or practice to live?

Teaching yoga. Oh, teaching yoga. So great, so fun, so rewarding. So hard, so challenging, so annoying. Yesterday, I taught way too much, was way too tired, had a hard emotional weekend, was angrily constipated and snapped at a student. I felt and still feel horrible.

Teaching yoga is hard and it isn't just "teaching" yoga. What is it that students want and what on earth are they coming for? To sweat? To lose weight? For spiritual peace? To stretch? To do crazy shit? It could be none or all of those reasons and more and somehow as the teacher you're supposed to cater to all of this or none of this. It shouldn't matter, you should be able to teach what you feel is best for the students. But that isn't always the case. Numbers count and you've got to pay your rent. I've found that most people want a cushy, nice teacher, who will help boost their ego in a not so obvious way. Hey, I'm probably that student too to some extent, or at least have been at one point or another. Very few really want to do the real work. This isn't to say that people don't come to class with good intentions, they do. It is that it is hard to develop and things that are hard aren't always fun.

In a recent post, Steve Dwelley talks about fundamentalists in yoga and Guy responds:

"A lot of times we are confronted in life with our likes and dislikes, laziness, apathy, greed etc…. in yoga practice too! If every time as a practitioner we say: “today I dont feel like doing any forward bends, only backbends, or today I feel like breathing through my mouth” and the teacher says: “fine, whatever”, then the student will never develop a true and healthy practice.

Part of going into yoga is over coming our subjective likes and dislikes and going through a process of dissolving the ego. For this strong and consistent discipline is required. If the practice is changing daily it cannot act as a reference point for Self knowledge, if the teacher also changes his or her tune daily, he or she can also not act as such a reference point."

Some days the classes are small and the students give me angry little faces. It takes it all out of me. Other days, everything clicks and we are all better for it. I try to detach myself from these ups and downs and try to stay true to the fact that I am giving my best and always doing all I can to look out for the students. I'm human like everyone else and get attached to these fluctuations. It is hard. Its a practice.

Eka Pada Video

I know that many people have trouble with leg-behind-the-head poses. I usually do a warm-up before hand. Here is a video of my teacher and I warming up before practice this morning:




Just kidding!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksT-YAiMxIo
This is a Tripsichore Yoga Performance with Edward Clark :)

Ashtanga Yoga Practice Videos and Flicks

The Shala is closed today for the holiday, so I thought it would be fun to take some flicks while I practiced at home. I've been walking a lot and we don't have the heat on, so it was an interesting practice. Anyway, the BF and I had fun...Enjoy!

Pincha Mayurasana



Back bending



More videos:
http://www.youtube.com/livingmysore

Eka Pada Sirsasana



More Pictures:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/livingmysore/sets/
72157604219882613/

Moonday, family, and iyengar yoga

Compassion.

Why does this always happen? I never thought of myself having any family issues although I suppose every family has its issues. I've got family in town and after 24 hours have managed to completely botch it up. The details are complicated and personal with the overall result of bringing pain to everyone involved (plus a few innocent bystanders).

I saw it all unfold. I watched, helplessly, as the words and actions unfolded until it was too late. I sit now both relieved at watching the pus leak out, but still wallowing in the pain that was created to puncture the boil.

I feel confused, frustrated. I am at a loss for words. I can see solutions, but words have no meaning. I keep returning to the notion that the only thing that has meaning is compassion. Compassion for the participants. Compassion for the situation. Compassion for myself.

It is frustrating watching the ones that you love suffering. I have the incredible ability to manifest that love through aggression instead of honesty. I admit it. Now what?

On account of the moonday, I ended up going to a restorative/pranayama iyengar yoga class with said family. It was not the mushy, prop and sounds-of-nature-music I was hoping for, yet I suppose was just what was needed. It opened everyone up (perhaps a little too much). Is it not through a bit of difficulty that we find ease?

Yogic philosophy doesn't make sense to someone who is in pain. Don't try it. It doesn't work. It just makes whomever you tell it to more angry because it makes so much sense. The problem with it is the concept of personal responsibility, and if someone chooses not to see that they have the choice to change their state of mind, one can only offer compassion. That, and wait. Waiting is the hardest part.

I also learned that some people use the word "fuck" more casually than others. Note to self: Be more compassionate in word choice.

Full vinyasa sucks

As promised, I practiced full vinyasa, full primary today. I'm still trying to get the taste out of my mouth. Okay, maybe that is a bit dramatic.

It was not fun. I didn't do full vinyasa for standing or finishing, just seated postures, and it was such a bummer! I don't know what happened, but slowly I became angry and agitated. Was it the variation of something so comfortable? Was it standing up when I'm used to be being so low down? I'd probably have to give it a few more goes to figure out. But for now, I've decided if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

My friend told me that for her, it feels like coming up out of the pool. She feels refreshed, balanced, and bandha strong. For me, it felt more like coming out of a warm bath when I really don't want to. I did feel balanced and it was interesting to observe how each chaturanga was really something of its own, rather than a long slur of a vinyasa. My bandhas were stronger (somewhat) toward the end, but it all just felt unnecessary and morale was low. I thought I'd probably have a much more open back for back bending, but that wasn't so. I was, however, more lengthy than I can ever remember being in my hamstrings.

The verdict: I'll stick to my good old half vinyasa primary, thanks!

Feeling light (everybody poops)

Spent some time kicking, floating, falling, and jumping back from pincha today. My practice is short, which is nice because I have lots of time to play! I've managed to land in chaturanga, however the hand shift is going to take some time. I was able to bend my knees on two attempts in pincha to get that "whip" effect. I'm still learning and have a long way to go.

Confession: I was super stressed out yesterday pre-practice about poop. Yes, poop. I often have a bit of a not going problem. I have myself on a very strict daily routine all catered around producing a deuce. I've pretty much given up on the pre-practice empty-out and on days when it does happen, I'm thrilled. My practice is lighter, my bandhas are stronger, and it just feels healthier. So anyway, I was pretty stressed out thinking there was no way I'd be able to do anything because I was bloated and etc. I had to not think about it and just practice.

It is interesting to me how growing up in magazines and such I've learned that a couple of times per week is normal. But now, I realize there is a difference between something being "normal" and something being "common". With the quality of food and diets here in the US, it is no wonder that every other TV ad is for a fiber supplemented product. I've been on an India-themed book reading spree, and they have all in some way made reference to the act of the daily deed. For instance, in Shantaram, the main character goes out to the river to do his doo with everyone else in the slum early in the morning. I have never been able to go on demand (obviously).

But I think that over time, yoga really gets us to pay attention to ourselves. Guruji says to "control" your anus. This implies not only your mulhabandha, but also your entire digestive system. Perhaps over time with yoga, we learn to be mindful about the crap we put into our bodies so that at the end of the day, we are able to get it out.

I love when I get really deep into practice. When I don't think about getting up to go and still end up walking through the door. It is during these times that I really am conscious about my body, thinking of my food as fuel, and forging a mind/body dialogue. I think part of it is being able to see every twenty four hours that my body is capable of much more than sitting, walking, seeing, talking, thinking, and tasting. After witnessing that, I can't help but want to do everything I can to support this amazing vessel. For all the time I've spent hating and trying to improve my body, feeling this way is such a gift. Thank you ashtanga! Thank you Guruji!

More about poop than you ever wanted to know: the Bristol Stool Scale

PS- pincha mayurasana has improved my drop backs!

PSS- David Williams says that yoga has a 24 hour expiration date.

No fearing!

I knew I had to do it by myself. You see, I am afraid of falling. Right before headstand or any other arm inversion, I think briefly about toppling forward into, well, into what I'm not sure. The unknown? I am afraid. Then I tell myself, very compassionately, to shut up and get on with it.

So I put my forearms down on the rug and I know that I need to figure it out myself. I kick and kick and fall and do some floating and then "pphhmp!" I got it. And then I land. I could detect some movement in my arms and I think I end up elbows up, but can't recall. But I'm determined. I must figure this out by myself, so I try again. More kicking, some floating, and then that's when I feel it. At a certain point I can remember seeing the golden thread of my rug and then my sense of "self" moves up my spine to this mass hovering in the sky. I hold forearm stand and then land in chaturanga all by myself! Hands might have moved back about an inch. At this point I'm having fun and go again. I remember that feeling. It felt like how that alien thing looks in the movie version of Naked Lunch. You know, the part where Bill finds Joan in Interpol and the typewriter turns into this pink throbbing skeleton pelvis butt thing? Well that's what I was looking for as I hop my legs up. Sure enough I felt it, held it, and again landed with small hand movements detected.

"Imagine how surprised you'll be when you come up next week in karandavasana," my teacher laughs. "I better not eat for a week!" I joke, remembering the extremist behaviors of led second series peeps in Mysore. "Only chapatis," he says as I drop back, still laughing.

Pincha Mayurasana

That's right. Okay now, seriously, I never thought I'd be here already! Especially not today.

This morning was one of those particular "I should not get out of bed" mornings. I trudged to practice arriving 17 minutes later than I anticipated forcing me to just not think and just practice. I was stiff and sore from practicing twice yesterday (more on that later) and so tired! But I only had a limited time before my teacher left the room for his break so I said to myself that I would really stick to the proper vinyasas and it all worked out. I just didn't have time to think. Magic vinyasas! And then there I was, thirty five minutes after I stepped onto my mat, in downward dog. "Pincha Mayurasana," I heard. There was no question he was talking to me. Everyone else had started finishing. "Really?" I said. "Can you do it?" he asked. I shrugged. I could do it (with a gentle human wall). I tried twice and tried the jump back twice. Then I took a tripod headstand to get the feel of the jump back.

I think the first time you try on the pose you just try on the pose to see what it feels like. Tomorrow I'll start noticing where I am. Maybe next week I'll actually be able to refine it a bit. But who knows?

On the jump back, I was instructed to shift my hands back to where my elbows were on the floor. I could do this either by peeling my elbows off the floor and then quickly shifting my hands back (as I fall like a cut tree). Or, I could swing my legs over my head to get momentum as they whip toward the floor allowing me to get some airtime to shift my hands. While I learned these, I couldn't really think about anything, but could only feel my teacher's hands holding my belly. Now if I can can only figure out how to use my own inner power to create that feeling...

Did I practice twice yesterday to get extra credit? Yeah right! I did my morning mysore practice, then attended a vinyasa class of a friend and potential employer so that I could get a gig. I took it pretty easy (or so I thought), but every once in a while I caught a glimpse of the rest of the class and saw that I was the only one taking the advanced variations. I haven't taken a vinyasa class in some time. I thought it was interesting and fun to make shapes and discover what my body was capable of and to enjoy the stretches and sensations of doing something new. But I also had this nagging worry about reminding myself to hold back for fear of getting injured. I just kept wondering what the point was for what we were doing and how certain the instructor was that I'd be safe doing whatever I was doing. Its a bit silly, but I think that probably I was just afraid. I didn't know what was coming next, and ashtanga really makes your body fit so that whenever you go to another type of yoga, its like you're this huge dog that doesn't know its strength. At the same time, I was surprised to see how much stronger I've become over the last few years when we were doing arm balancing, and we did eka pada sirsasana, which was interesting as we led up to it in a different way than in second series.

I know that pinch and jump back are not impossible because a few years back I dropped into a jivamukti yoga class which was full of cheap thrills including my first taste of pincha and jump back, jump into bakasana, and handstand jump back. I did it then, so I've got to be able to do it now. However, that does mean that I'll be at the dreaded karandavasana. Yipes!

Mysore on my mind

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wz8uVn-Zofk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3-8Te30H6k

More videos of the old shala:
http://aysnyc.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=106&Itemid=169

The Full Vinyasa

How do you pick your vinyasa?

For being known as such a specific practice, there are so many variations in ashtanga, and really many of them aren't completely illegal :). In particular, I'm thinking about the half vinyasa versus full vinyasa issue. But first, what is "vinyasa"?

1. In contemporaru yoga culture, Vinyasa is a style of yoga. It is characterized by having some sort of central theme (usually), some chanting, a lot of downward dogs, and flow. This is a derivative of ashtanga yoga.
2. Vinyasa is the linking of breath and movement.
3. Vinyasa is "intelligent sequencing", or something like that. The Jivamukti Yoga folks break the work into (I think) "vin" and "nyasa". But ask them.
4. Vinyasa is a specific movement with a specific breath as in ashtanga. For instance, Surya Namaskar A has 9 vinyasas.
5. To "take a vinyasa" from a seated posture means to move through the partial surya namaskar sequence of knees chest chin or chaturanga, upward dog or baby cobra, and downward dog, usually coming back through to sit once again.

Now in ashtanga between postures and even sides, you take half, full, or no vinyasa. This means that you just got to the other side, you do the partial surya namaskar sequence, or you come all the way to stand after each pose (not each side). The standard way people learn ashtanga primary, for instance, is in the half primary format. This is also how it is taught in Mysore. So then, where does the full vinyasa come from and why isn't it taught?

Lino Miele breaks this format down in his book, Astanga Yoga, and explains that this is how Guruji taught him the proper technique. But why aren't people really encouraged to do it? Perhaps it would take to long? I'm not sure.

The people that I know who have practiced full primary, full vinyasa really love it. They say it is actually more energizing than one might imagine. I 've never tried it myself, so couldn't say. A friend who has studied with Rolf in Goa for some time says that almost everyone does full vinyasa on Fridays. Perhaps next Friday I'll give it a try...

At his workshop, David Williams said that in the lifetime of your practice of yoga, you are always in one of two states: yoga therapy or cheap thrills. But I find the cheap thrills to be deeply therapeutic. Today's primary was lots of fun. I think that approaching practice with a positive attitude really opens up my body and mind to possibility. It is remarkable how different my body feels during primary series now after only practicing second series on most days. I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it just feels different. Like I have a new body or something. And in many ways, I think I do have. Looking in the mirror, I've noticed some renovations. Bandhas? Second Series? *Shrug*

The Two Certainties in Life

"In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."
-Benjamin Franklin


Today, the tax man cometh.

:(

Bandhas Bandhas Bandhas

I'm thinking about them A LOT now since the David Williams workshop. I've got to say, things have shifted. I mean, I have always known about them and went through periods where I really paid attention and periods when I didn't, but now, its just what I needed.

I especially noticed that when I do mulhabandha David Williams style in parivritta parsvokonasana, I get this crazy sensation where my root is, well, a root, and my torso is spiraling out like rose pedals from there. Amazing yoga magic! The other place I'm really feeling it is in ustrasana. It is really helpful for shifting the expansion into the upper back instead of the lower back. But really, all of my practice feels different. I feel stronger and I think I look a little stronger. Maybe.

Had a reminder of lessons past learned in back bending -- it is better when you don't think. The key is to relax, trust, and surrender.

Tittibhasana -- Day 4

It is only Tuesday. Wow. I am so sore. Everything is tired. Each step is like I've walked all day. I just want to sleep and do nothing. I wonder how people are able to get into ashtanga without getting really into it. I mean, some days, it takes it all out of me. In Mysore, you practice, you eat, you rest. In "real" life, you practice, you eat, and you do everything that everyone else does too. I wonder how many people out there are able to maintain whatever their "normal" lives were prior to the jump into ashtanga. Does everyone gradually move towards a lifestyle that revolves around practice? It could also be what you do for a living. People that work with their hands are probably more tired in general than people who work in office settings, no?

Three more days of practice this week. I don't know the last time I've counted down like this. I think part of it is practice and part of it is the waking up so early. But what other choice is there? Early morning wake up is great once in a while. When the sun is shining on your face its great. I love the idea of it and the idea of myself being an early bird. The reality? :(

People who practice other styles have got nothing on us (except perhaps non attachment...). Try doing a pose one day. It feels good in the body, you feel the sensation, maybe you are sore, etc. The second day you revisit the pose you find something new. You crawl out past the places you've already discovered and you seek out the limits of the shape. Day three, you convince yourself you are a pro at the pose. You come to it like you knew it was coming. Your body is ready for the signal to settle into what it knows. But try doing it again and again and again. And keep doing it. That's a whole different story. You start finding walls, both mental and physical. You are tired and you are sore. Sometimes you want to give up. But the difference is for us (I think) the poses slowly become a part of us until you get to a point where you can climb in and have a seat. You can look around and settle in. Stira sukham asanam? Hmmm.

Tittibhasana -- Days 2 and 3

I was one part optimistic and one part completely petrified about meeting tittibhasana on Sunday. After three days off (Thursday primary, Friday moonday, Saturday rest day), I was completely disoriented in my own body. It all started with the sprint out of bed when I remembered daylight savings (please explain to me why the US is doing this early). Then I get to the shala and the practice room is all moved around. I already am feeling funny, but then, I finish my surya namaskars and decide that its time to go to pasasana. Something felt weird, but so did the whole morning, and it wasn't until I finished krounchasana that I realized I was super tight not because I was still cold from being outside (which I was), but because I didn't do any standing postures. That was embarrassing.

The truth is, I wasn't thinking about the poses at all. But I wasn't thinking about my laundry list either. I was thinking about mulhabandha. I've gone through stages in my practice history where I really focus on it and others where I take it for granted, but after Thursday, it was at the top of my mind. I was concentrating so much on my anus and vagina that I forgot what the hell I was doing! Ha ha!

Laughing, I stood up and started my standing postures. But still, practice was strange. Everything felt awkward and gawky. And afterwards, it felt like it happened so fast. I kept thinking, "that's it?" Was it perhaps because it was fun? David Williams said that when you practice, you are either in one of two states. The first is yoga therapy and the second is cheap thrills. It did feel pretty good...

Tittibhasana was much better! Still, the same problems yesterday and today. Jumping to tittibhasana is easy. Doing it well is the hard part. On Sunday I jumped once, took a few breaths, then came down and readjusted so my legs were higher. Its cheating, but oh well. Today I jumped once and told myself that I would make it work. With my legs higher on Sunday, I was able to swing my feet down by hands with some grace. It seems the key is to get the thighs moving toward one another and the seat high (i.e. engage bandhas). Today, as my legs weren't as high, it was much more difficult to get the height and I had to rely on my strength to get me there which was much more difficult.

Recently, someone told me that they heard that primary series was the hardest series to learn because in it, you learn all the fundamentals and that the other series are just variations of these. I do see how the vinyasas into and out of bhujapidasana and kurmasana lead to tittibhasana...

Binding in B was ok on both days. Walking was okay. The key is not to think, just walk, otherwise the mind starts thinking about how much the thighs burn. D, surprisingly, came naturally, even though I really thought I'd be afraid to fall over. That said, it might have looked like crap on the outside....Then back to A really tired and creaking to bakasana and then jumping to chatvari.

What is frustrating is that I get to downdog and I'm tired, but not that tired. I feel like I have lots of energy still and I wish that I could have used that energy to do what I was trying to do in tittibhasana. I know that with time it will come. The body and muscles have to figure out how to do what I want them to do and this is all very new to me...

Recently Watched: Into the Wild. Verdict: thumbs up!
Recently Read: The Kite Runner. Verdict: good story.
Currently Reading: Yoga Sutras.

David Williams edited the last post, so please check out the updated info.

David Williams New York Ashtanga Yoga Workshop*

"You are enlightened until you think that you aren't."
-David Williams

(Photo from David's website http://www.ashtangayogi.com/)

Last night I attended the first night of David Williams' workshop entitled, "Ashtanga Yoga for the rest of your life" at Yoga Sutra NYC.

As people scrambled for floor space and David climbed up on to the makeshift stage/altar/podium, he overheard someone in the crowd mentioning chakrasana. "Did I hear chakrasana?" he asks. As he shifts the pillow behind him, he says under his breath with a smile (just loud enough for everyone to hear) that he wouldn't be teaching chakrasana or setubandhasana this weekend because he "doesn't want to take the chance of even one person getting injured". He emphasizes that when he was taught these asanas, he was personally and individually watched by Guruji (imagine!) who having seen him practice for some time, thought these would be safe. (As many of us have seen in classes, many people do these moves wrong and occasionally badly injure their necks.) He then adds that he felt that it would be irresponsible for him to have a group of 60 people of all ages and all conditions, most of whom he has never seen practice before, try this. And this is what the workshop is all about--doing yoga for the rest of your life. He jokes, "I'm 58 years old and hoping to live to 108...We are all just one injury away from ending our yoga." So, David asks, if yoga helps us live happy, long lives, then why would we want to get injured if that will prevent and discourage us from practicing?

I was surprised by how open, candid, direct, specific, and humorous David was. He was a far cry from the "conservative ashtangi" stereotype, but at the same time, has been a daily practitioner of ashtanga yoga and has stayed true to Guruji's original teachings. This got me thinking about why we are practicing and why ashtanga has at times such an ill-fitting reputation...

Below, please find some of my notes from last night. I've done my best to be as accurate as possible. (This info was updated on 3/10/8.)

"When people say I'm disciplined [to have been practicing every day for decades], I think about how as a kid you are disciplined when you are bad. I practice because I am fascinated."

The Notes
1. On pain & "openings":
Pain
David explains that there is no benefit in hurting yourself and that "if it hurts you are doing it wrong."
"Hurting yourself more won't make you hurt less."

Openings
"Openings" are injuries and are to be avoided.
"I hope you don't have any more openings," he says.
"The average person over 30 who practices daily will get about 80% as stretched out as they are going to get within about two years of practice. Stretching should be slow and gradual to prevent tears. One doesn't just keep getting looser and looser forever."

2. On what yoga is:
"I want everything to increase my prana."
The purpose of yoga is to increase prana which is the energy, vitality, and immunity.
Nothing decreases prana more than injury.
"The form of a pose does not increase prana, only correct breathing, mulhabandha and one pointed concentratrion do."
"Ankle grabbing doesn't lead to enlightenment."
"Yoga is consciousness, awareness, and sensitivity, not just putting your leg behind your head."
Yoga is about increasing prana (imunities to dis-ease) and feeling good.

3. On daily practice (even if you are sick):
There is a 24 hour expiration on the benefits of yoga, meaning that you have to do it everyday.
If you are sick, its good to move, even just a little, that, and to swim in the ocean. (Does the East River count?)
Instead of doing one long practice, you should do a few small ones.
If injured or hurt, it is also important to keep moving, unless of course, something brings pain.

4. On Mulhabandha:
"Don't be confused by that other book," I think he is referring to "Moola Bandha, the Master Key". He says that you just have to contract your anus and ladies, also your vagina. That's it. "This is the whole practice." He explained how to find mulahbandha by putting one hand on the belly and one on the sternum. Take a few breaths here feeling the breath in the body and not doing any bandhas. Then, contract your anus and vagina (if you've got one) and breathe. Notice that the low belly is firm. Re-establish the bandha on exhales. This is what you should do during the whole practice. He also said that people who have what looks like big guts are often just stretching out their belly muscles during practice and aren't applying the bandhas properly.

Still digesting the info from last night, but thought I should share some notes in the meantime.

To read more on David Williams (he is fascinating) please check the following links:

David's website http://www.ashtangayogi.com/ is an excellent resource. In it you can find his biography, info on ashtanga, his teaching schedule, etc. But you will also find articles, a q&a forum, and pictures of the entire system of ashtanga yoga as taught to him by Guruji. For those of you in Ontario, be sure to check him out! March 13 - 16 at Orleans Yoga Shala http://www.oys.ca/.

Guy Donahaye at Ashtanga Yoga Sangha has revamped the original Ashtanga Yoga Shala website to include a forum, videos (of the old shala, very cool!), and interviews with notable members of the ashtanga community. His interview of David Williams is one of many that he has conducted as part of his upcoming film project...
http://aysnyc.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=97&Itemid=160

"While you are doing your yoga, try to be a yogi."

*Edited on 3/10/8 with the help of none other than David Williams. Thanks!
Edited on 3/11/8.

Tittibhasana - A User's Manual

"Be careful what you wish for."

These are the words my teacher says to me with a smile as I stand there after practice, still shaking. Today I got Tittibhasana.

Now this is one of those poses (or clusters of poses, really) that I never EVER really thought I would be doing. I mean, there is always the fantasy of me floating through the air in fifth series postures, but I know that they aren't ever going to happen--except they did today.

I hung out in yoganidrasana as long as possible. Just breathing, hoping I don't know, maybe to hide? Yesterday Guy said that I'd get Tittibhasana today. "No new poses on Tuesdays," he laughs. All day I was thinking to myself how he is crazy and there is no way that that is ever going to happen. At the same time, he gives poses out about as frequently as Sharath, so if you get a pose, you know you are ready for it. Still, I was convinced I might break in half this time.

So there I am in yoganidrasana. I didn't get an adjustment, so I figured I might slip by. I did chakrasana, took a few breaths in downdog and then I heard it, "jump your legs around your arms." Its funny how you always know when your teacher is talking to you, even if it is across the room.

1.) How to jump legs around arms so they land high? I can jump them, but I feel like I can't get my arms deep enough under my thighs. Maybe I should just jump to handstand and then lower down from a straddle on Sunday. Yes, that's what I'll do, no problem.

5 breaths here in Tittibhasana (with pointed toes), then swing legs to the floor around hands.

2.) Feet were too wide apart. They need to be pretty close in to the hands. Maybe squeeze thighs together a bit more?

Then lock hands behind waist and look to navel without falling over. Don't know if my legs were straight. There was just so much going on. And I was laughing involuntarily almost the entire time. 5 breaths here. Then walk.

3. Figuring out how to walk was pretty challenging. The first steps were not steps at all, just little shuffles. Then, I got a momentum. Inhale step right exhale step left. My fingernails were digging into my fingers. My thighs were burning. 5 breaths later, I have to now walk backwards. By this time, I can feel the blood rushing to my thighs. I can feel them turning into jelly. I am struggling to recall the last time I was working this hard. I am covered in sweat. I think I lose my grip and come up for air. I say something like "oh my god!" And then dive back in to finish walking back. I can feel the whole class watching me, I feel like I'm giving childbirth I'm making so much noise. I complete 5 breaths and Guy says, "One more!". I huff and puff and take one more right and left step back. Then the feet come together. I stand up for air. My legs are useless at this point.

4. Saving enough energy to bring heels together, interlace hands around tops of feet, look to navel, AND not fall over. 5 very quick breaths and faith in a teacher later, titibasana. I sigh heavily, probably say, "THANK YOU!" again. I rock back onto my hands, lift my feet, struggle to lift my jello legs, bakasana, jump back. "Next time 5 breaths tittibhasana and bakasana and then jump back". I look at him and say, "That was so hard! You got me this time! I had no idea!" He just smiles. I lie down with all circuits firing. The rest is a blur in the wake of tittibhasana. Back bending, finishing, resting.

I never really thought I'd be doing leg behind the head stuff with confidence, but it is true, just a few weeks later and my neck is a million times stronger. After the initial shock wheres off, my muscles and mind will remember that these poses are possible. Slowly slowly.

Be careful what you wish for.

David Williams is in town for a weekend workshop. I've got a pass for the first night's talk which is not to be missed (and a bit of chat time for the magazine). This is also during the time I am supposed to teach a brand new class. What to do? Sub it out and make a totally bad impression? Teach it and miss out on meeting a legend? What to do?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rWdO7RmTs5M

Oh, youtube, how I love you! This is a video I found on youtube posted by ashtangaboi. Enjoy!

Sick? No fever = practice!

The consensus seems to be: no fever equals practice. Since I look to my ashtanga practice as my medicine, I figure I should follow what the instructions on the bottle say... But, I also told myself that it I really felt like shit this morning (fever or not), I would rest, as I don't want this dragging on for weeks.

When my alarm went off, I did a little "check in" with my body. Vital signs good. Heavy congestion. Diagnosis? Hit snooze and move slow. Seven minutes later, I am convinced that although sleepy, I am feeling better and only congested. I take a shower. I do neti. Some yellow boogers and blood-speckled phlegm later, I eat some chywanaprash. By this point, I'm feeling okay. I bundle up and head out the door.

It is a nice day outside, and at 6:30am, it is getting lighter. About halfway to the subway I get dizzy and realize what the @#$% am I doing out of bed? But can't seem to turn my feet around. Too much effort to change mind. Get to subway station. Hips hurt. Wait for train slumped in a seat. Debating whether or not to call a cab. Train comes. Get on. Reassure self that it is okay. Take bus to shala. Walk through park. Wondering what to practice. Second only? Modified? Not really caring either way. Feeling like I'm sitting inside an egg shell, looking at the world through a lens. Get inside. Feeling ok.

I'm late, but don't really mind as I'm not concerned with getting a new pose or adjustments. Start sun salutes and really get into it. My breathing was so comforting. It was like soft pillow breathing. At Trikonasana, teacher tells me to just do primary. Awesome. Went slow, full, deep breathing, got really sweet adjustments, it was such a soothing, soft, pillowy practice. Back bends were shit, but didn't expect much anyway. Felt good to just take it easy. Relieved that I didn't practice second. All the back bending? Yipes! I'm used to primary. It doesn't really shock my body like it used to. Now, it is like an old friend, a security blanket, my favorite food. My body knows what is coming, and invites it in. Second is getting there, slowly. There are some points, however, where a joint feels gummy, and I've got to breathe through and my nerves are all firing at once. That's why I'm relieved I didn't practice that today. Being sick, I've got that feeling already. My spine, the back of my neck, my shoulders, my right elbow, my hip, my knees, all gummy and achy.

I didn't even break a sweat. I got up and rolled up my mat like I had a good soak in the tub. Bundled myself up, headed out still congested, but feeling better. Yoga magic!

Should you practice ashtanga yoga if you are sick?

Maybe it is like ladies' holiday, you take the first three days off to rest. Or maybe you just keep practicing and sweat it out.

Personally, I feel it is inappropriate for an ill student to attend a class as this exposes others to the possibility of getting sick as well. Plus, its gross practicing next to someone spitting loogies into a tissue. That said, should you practice at home? Will it actually help you get better, or will it just help you keep up a "routine"?

I searched the internet for answers and I invite you to share your understanding of the topic!

In a humorous post (10/25/07) about conservative versus liberal ashtangis, CRON yogitect notes that the conservative will "do primary series when they are sick, unless they have a fever."

In the ashtangayogi.com article entitled "I Ain't No Doctor", Charles Pan shares his notes from a workshop he attended with David Williams. On illness, David suggests that if you are sick, you should "...start with the sun salutations, doing three of each and then getting in bed and covering up to hold in the warm healing prana. Repeat throughout the day. "

Again, in Alan Little's blog, he mentions that David Williams said that he "'never missed a day’s yoga practice in thirty years'. Williams says skipping practice when you are sick is exactly the wrong thing to to – that’s when your body most needs to be energised and cared for by yoga practice. That doesn’t necessarily mean two hours of heinously advanced asana contortions though." ("Ahimsa" 20th July 2005)

In the FAQ's at theyogaroom.co.uk, Abby Hoffmann recommends that students should come to class to practice "if you are only mildly ill". And that indeed, "it may be helpful to practise. However, if you have a temperature and/or your energy level is depressed, practise real yoga: respect your body and rest. If you’re up to it, you could try a gentle restorative practice at home, using blankets and bolsters (there are lots of books with suggestions for passive, restorative postures). Consider others as well, no one will think any less of you if you not at class for reasons of illness and also keeping your germs out of the shala!" (This same info is listed on

http://www.movingprayer.co.uk/astanga_vinyasa.htm.)

Okay, so nothing really definitive. Plus, not all sicknesses are created equal. Do you do the same for the flu as a cold? What about food poisoning? Menstrual cramps? A migraine? Constipation? Bronchitis? Pneumonia? I await the answers!

And is your flu really the flu? I've heard of and experienced "back bending fever", which is usually a 24 hour flu after some intense back bending. Additionally, it is not unheard of for people to get sick during times of intense practice:

"Other mild to stronger symptoms of purification will begin to appear for most practitioners. It is very common to see the increased occurrence of colds and flu and fevers, as well as, headaches, drowsiness and light-headedness. It is important to honor and respect these kinds of changes, as they can be quite deep in one’s system. I recommend that you take extra time to rest and be quiet." (Govinda Kai, Ashtanganews.com, "Ashtanga Yoga and the Path to Purification", November 29, 2006.)

Hmm. Yeah, but I think this is just the flu, flu. I am around many different people every day, I ride the subway, everyone around me is sick. I got sick too. I am not going to the shala today to spare my fellow practitioners, and I might do a couple of sun salutes. I'm going to take the day to rest and hopefully recover before tomorrow. For me, I feel like its better to just rest and get over it (3 days max) and then back to practice to work through anything that's left. But that's me.

Yoga Chikitsa: Led Ashtanga Primary Series

As I was completely absorbed with publishing the new magazine (check it out at www.livingmysore.com), I did not have time at all to practice or do anything else yesterday. So today, before attacking that overflowing pile of stinky laundry next to the computer, I broke out Sharath's Primary Series CD and went to Mysore for one hour and fifteen minutes.

I bought this CD a couple of years ago while I was doing an intensive over at the Ashtanga Yoga Shala so that I could learn how classes are really supposed to be counted. After having been in Mysore, I can honestly say that this is an excellent way to experience a led class the way it is taught by Sharath. I really learned how ashtanga teaches us to use an economy of movement; to really move with mindfulness and place things exactly where we mean to place them. There is also no room at all for thinking because you are listening so carefully for the next vinyasa count. It is just so precise in its simplicity. I just love it!

I haven't practiced with the CD for a while, but I remember that when I first got it, I was struggling to keep up in headstand and upluthih. So you can imagine my surprise when I could stay up this time! Slowly, slowly...

I did practice at home, however, which has its drawbacks. The first being that it is really cold (but not cold enough for me to rationalize turning on the heat, which we pay for). Well, actually, that's the only drawback. It is cold energetically and physically. Part of what gets me through practice is the community.

And after sitting at the computer ALL DAY yesterday, I was so achy today. It makes me feel very worried for all those stuck in front of a computer 9-5. This is not how we are supposed to live!

Also, because it was laundry day, I had no proper practice clothing left ie a reliable sports bra. This really changes practice. More on this and teaching the led primary later...