A little inspiration {Video}

Age 44, 31 weeks 5 days gestation, daily practice. Just an average morning over at the Albuquerque Ashtanga Yoga Shala.

You have to surrender/ Sharath interview

There's a line in the sand, a divide, between those who don't mind the squat toilet and those who do, between those who insist on toilet paper and those who don't, those squatting for their shower and those brushing their teeth with bottled and filtered water, those who eat the street food and those who bring their own coconut straws. How much of experiencing India is letting go? How much of it is accepting the circumstances? How much of it is storming ahead? How much of it is adapting? Where is the divide between becoming Indian? Pretending to be Indian? Orientalizing the experience? What about becoming the ugly American? How much do we have to try and how much should we just be ourselves?

Some people avoid Saraswati*. She is very nice and loving, but they don't want her helping them. There are many reasons that people give as to why but I don't subscribe to them at the moment. I only get adjustments in back bending and in the past I've had moments where I looked into her eyes and pleaded for an easier variation (just up and down and then hands to the floor instead of to my legs). The thing is that if she were my dance partner, we'd be stepping all over each other's toes. She'd be leading but I couldn't count her steps. So I'd try to lead but she'd reinforce that she was the man, etc. But now I see that I'm getting stronger and that I'm starting to think that I understand what she's trying to tell me and it is working. People complain that she let's go of them when she grabs for their hands and they're arched backwards dangling their arms on the brink of collapse. I've realized that OMG I can stand by myself! Amazing!

The other day after conference I saw her sitting in the office and something told me to go inside. I didn't know what I was going to say but I had this really overwhelming emotion about how people would avoid her in class. I asked her if I could sit and then something came over me and I started blabbering.

"I just wanted to say thank you and this week you've been helping me in back bending and I feel like this big opening..." I might have kept blabbering but the sound was blotted out by the sobs. I started crying and gulping air. She looked at me with her big gleaming eyes and smiled. I asked myself what the muck just happened? as I stepped out of the door.

*Saraswati is Pattabhi Jois' (Guruji's) daughter. She is in her 60's and teaches at AYRI (the shala) alongside her son, Sharath, who is the director. She has her own class in the "late" morning and assists Sharath in the "main shala" classes.
Recent interview with Sharath
I just read this really great interview by Guy in New York. I really recommend reading it.

Jivamukti (it's not what you think)

Where is freedom located?  

In a country?  A landscape?  In nature?

Is it in my foot?  My head?  My heart?

  

There is something incredibly satisfying about that moment when you see that the final knot you are about to unravel is laughable.  You'll have clean, unhindered string in your hands in a moment so you take a moment to savor all the time and turmoil, all those moments when you wanted to cut away the knots and settle for a shorter piece, before you slowly undo those silly first wrinkles that started it all and liberate the string. 

For a whole year I've been the "Princess and the Pea" about this wrinkle in my body, in my practice.  The imperfect perfect back bend.  The gummy left shoulder.  The ache the pain the sensation the nerves the bones the muscles the emotions the drama the drama the drama.  And then an opening.  A real opening.  There are two kinds of "openings":

1.  Sammy locked himself out of his house.  He pulls on the door handle.  He kicks and he screams.  Maybe he breaks a window and busts in.  Maybe he blows up the whole house, digs through the rubble and holds up the shiny key triumphantly while standing on top of what used to be his stove.

2.  Sammy locked himself out of his house.  He realizes there is no way to open the door without a key.  Yes, maybe he has moments of kicking and screaming, but knows deep down that resistance is futile.  So he waits.  He knows that eventually a roommate will come by or a neighbor who has a key to let him in.  Eventually, someone does show up.  He laughs, feels like an ass, and picks up his key from the dining room table.

My opening was of the second variety.  I had to wait. Like water making the Grand Canyon-- waiting.  No more pain, no more pushing, no more trying.  Just waiting.  And then, today, it happened.  Piggybacking yesterday's physical epiphany, I was there (in "ankle grabbing").  (Keep in mind that this is all relative but...)  Feet were on their way to being parallel, legs were going straight, chest was expanding, elbows drawing together, hands holding back of knees, and then it happened.  It was like someone walked through me.  A cold breezy feeling in the muscles of upper, inner thighs.  A release in tension and a strong circular feeling.  I felt "red" like a fire truck in the sun.  I stood up.  I got it.  I understood it.  This is what it is.  I stood there in shock with a huge, goofy grin plastered on my face.

Before and at the beginning of practice I had a strong sense of joy for life, the world, myself, an overwhelming feeling of love and happiness.  But it was democratic, everything was equal.  I loved the stinky garbage I walked by just as much as I loved the sun on my neck.  I wanted to be single and to change my whole life and experience everything out there (unhindered) in the world because there is just so much to enjoy.  

After practice I had a strong sense of joy for life, the world, myself, an overwhelming feeling of love and happiness.  And in it, everything had its place.  I loved the sticky garbage just as much as I loved the sun on my neck.  I wanted to stay here forever and experience every moment of my little existence because there is just so much to enjoy.

"But I don't want to lose you,"  head shakes and hands wave in the air.  "I'm so comfortable with our life together."

"When you say that, I feel trapped,"  I feel scared.  I feel safe.

Pages slowly peel the days from the calendar.  The pile of belongings grows exponentially behind the chair in the back room.  Practice-drenched clothing dries on the chair.  

Back Bending the "Right" Way

Where do you feel it after practice:  your thighs or your back?

Both.

Hmm.

I had a chance to talk shop with my favorite local Iyengar teacher, Cory Washburn.  Before everyone starts to panic, rest assured, I'm not drinking the kool-aide, just gleaning another perspective on practice.  And when I say another perspective, I don't mean Iyengar versus Ashtanga, I mean another yoga practitioner who happens to care a lot about precise alignment.  I really feel that a little insight here and there can go along way.  When there is too much info, I start to short circuit with all the many things to think about.  However, once in awhile, I'm ready to take something new in.  

My homework this week:  Think about lengthening my hamstrings away from my calves, opening the backs of the knees.  So actually, I should have sore hamstrings.  I'll need some time to figure out what this feels like.  Will certainly report back.

Took yesterday off and practiced primary today.  Felt so tired and heavy.  Maybe I'm eating too much?  I just feel off.  I think part of it is PMS.  Where does it talk about this in Yoga Mala?

Just begun reading "Enlightenment for Idiots".  Three things that bother me about this "genre".

1.  Why are only women writing? (Holy Cow; Eat, Pray, Love, Fear; and Yoga in New Jersey)

2.  Why all this emphasis on relationships? (Fear and Yoga in New Jersey; Eat, Pray, Love)

3.  Why is it that main characters as yoga teachers have to be flakes that can't get anything together? (Fear and Yoga in New Jersey; Eat, Pray, Love)

Why does this bother me?

1.  Am I a cliche?

2.  Does my life revolve around men?

3.  Am I a flake that can't get anything together?

Cry Baby

"It's okay to cry."

The words echo for a moment. Tears well up in my eyes. In the dressing room later, I think about how I can't really remember ever being told this before but want to believe that I have.

In our interview this month, Guy mentioned how practice is usually physical therapy or emotional therapy. Today, holding my shoulder, holding my tears, I remember "emotional therapy".

"This is your pose," he says.

I guess I never did really have that exorcism. In Mysore last year, I really thought my back bends were going to shit. I knew that issues were coming up and I was working through them, but I really thought that I had worked through them. I went from happily grabbing my ankles last June to struggling in October (oh Saraswati!). But it has been up from there. Literally. I'm up my legs again, but not without a great amount of struggle.

In the Danny Paradise workshop last night, he talked about how for ashtanga practitioners, they experience the effects of old age earlier, but then are unaffected later in life. You live a vibrant joyous life and then you die. Just like that. So, a certain amount of physical discomfort (this is different from "ouch" pain) can be expected.

The feelings that come up for me in ankle grabbing are intense. Physically, I 've got very strong sensations coming from my right shoulder. But it isn't pain. More like stepping on spilled soda in a movie theatre--gummy and sticky.

Once I'm there holding my legs, drawing my elbows toward one another, expanding my chest, and straightening my legs, I experience a mixture of exhilaration and panic. It feels like I have a bird in my chest flying in a cage (which is my ribs) with no place to get out. All I can think is "my shoulder."

Mentally, I find myself both dreading and looking forward to back bending which of course, is very confusing. The constant devil on this shoulder and angel on that can be tiring. I find myself surrounded by feelings of disappointment, feeling trapped, frustration. This is all after the forearm stands pincha mayurasana and karandavasana. I don't want to say there is drama around all these poses, but I guess there is (since I'm writing about them and all).

Last year I remember very clearly that it was right after back bending that I was overcome with these really intense feelings of "I can't" like the ones you get when you are super upset as a kid. I really felt like a child in fact. I was really upset. I went to my mat for finishing and got so upset that I just got up and left. Second series sure does a number on the nerves. Although these feelings I experienced today might look the same to what I experienced last year I now realise that actually I've grown a lot. When the emotions came up this time instead of walking out (like the devil on my shoulder told me too), I focused on my finishing poses. I did it, I didn't die. I made it through. This feels like growth to me.

Okay, now Danny Paradise. Maybe tomorrow. For now, enjoy some videos!

Danny Jumps Through at Om Factory NYC (last night)


Youtube video: "Ashtanga Yoga -- River of the Soul"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vB055-M6QwA

Danny reminds me of Gene Wilder.

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:

The reflective post

Yesterday, I looked at my day planner (imagine), and realized that I have just 25 days left here in Mysore (including today). It is hard for me to imagine coming here for just a month. When I think back at my time here and where I am at now, I feel like it is just not enough time to soak up all of this. Even now I feel like it could all still just be beginning.

I made a list of all things I wanted to do and see before I left. Without this, it could be fairly easy for me to wake up tomorrow and realize its time to go to the airport. I'd like to float somewhere in between.

Despite the happy send-off of a particularly sound night's sleep, practice was completely ridiculous. I was all over the place. It was great. I kept thinking and telling myself not to think, fidgeting, farting (I'm so sorry Petra). It was such a mess. I wore a new pair of pants that kept slipping down my backside. I tried to put my hair in pigtails. It was okay in front of the mirror, but in class, it was a whole other game. (You're probably thinking "who could mess up pigtails?" but that is another story). My rug was sliding around and crumpling up. And it was taking forEVER. I kept thinking "how long is this going to take? Am I going slower than usual?" I was getting antsy. Then, i realized that I was waiting for something--back bends.

No breakthroughs, funny stories, or insights.

"Right side good. You do left side wrong." Saraswati really felt it today and so did I. She let me go for it a second time, but it was the same story. Hovering in the half back bend, my right hand catches really high TECK (that's the sound of grabbing). Then my left hand pathetically writhes in the air. Saraswati grabs it and pulls. I move both hands down to my ankles and readjust my feet so they are parallel. Then she moves my right hand into that notch behind my knee. The left hand next-- "UNNNGGHHHH". Breathe breathe breathe breathe don't panic, relax breathe and inhale stand hello Saraswati smile smile sit fold and squish "aaaaahhhhh"...

Then off to the dressing room to get eaten by mosquitoes and do finishing postures.

You might remember my first class in July. My struggle with headstand and uthplutih? (Picture on right of students in uthplutih at Guruji's 2002 San Francisco tour. You might not be able to tell, but they are balancing on their hands with their knees and seats are off the floor.) Well, I am amazed at the "progress". Headstand has actually become a calming place to look forward to. My arms are still burning, of course, but I can do it for much longer than before. And then there is uthplutih. always a challenge, but I am facing it. 22 breaths every day. Like my teacher once said, "I look up to my third eye, think about God, and the kundalini is like woooosh." She stays there for 40 very slow breaths. I think about a meat hook pulling up my pelvis. I think about breathing from my pelvic floor. I think about how there is no reason to come down and that the sensations I feel aren't really negative. I look up to my third eye and to the ceiling and imagine shooting up, up. Today was really hard, but when I came down, my head was swarming with heat and I was felt amazing.

I picked up this book at Tina's today called It's a long way to the floor by David Byck. I don't remember where I heard about it, but recently it was recommended to me. I thought with all this attention I'm paying to the experience of being here, it would be a really interesting to see what he experienced and maybe compare notes.

Other updates:

I've got 25 items on my "to do before I die list". This has been incredibly therapeutic. With it, I feel encouraged to be honest with myself about what I really want in life and the things that I am afraid to try for. I feel now that my path is very clear, and that in many ways, I've always been on it.

Last week, Petra and I pulled out the "Angel Cards", which are similar to tarot cards, but much more soft, sweet, and feminine. (Petra says I need to embrace my feminine side, so this is a step on that direction. So is talking about my feelings and practicing with Saraswati and with the influx of female students at the shala. Shakti power!)

I was very skeptical about the cards, but they were dead on and very comforting. I asked what my life purpose was. The cards told me that it was time to heal worry and fear, to relax and feel safe. They said I was currently learning how to be peaceful and have tranquility in life. Right now is the time to gather information and concentrate on being a student, and that by staying on this path, my life's purpose will be revealed. Wow.

It is not really the same as having someone read your cards in front of you, but, you can get your cards read online for free by clicking here.

Tomorrow there is no practice because there is a festival, I don't remember who it is for. We also have Saturday off, and its back to led on Sunday. I'm off to pay Shala fees today, and there is talk of some craziness tonight, but it could be a good night for more L Word and Grey's Anatomy. Yes, I have succumbed.

I am and I can

As I began my back bends, in the back of my mind, I knew that I didn't want to do ankle grabbing. "I" could have been my body, it could have been my mind. Who knows? I usually enjoy the exhilaration of back bends, but this past week has been very difficult. I waited for a long time for Saraswati to help me with drop backs. She is on it though. There is probably 70+ students in there, and she is jumping from one person to another without skipping a beat. I don't mind waiting for drop backs. Today I had these sick head rushes that I've had at different points in my life and I had forgotten about them until today. It was nice to just be able to stand there, shuffle my feet, hold my head, and scream from the inside.

I waited for a long time. Part of me wanted to say "forget it" and sit down to start finishing. But another part of me said, "just wait. Just keep waiting. You'll be okay." When she came over, I said, "please no ankles today, my back hurts." (I said "hurts" because it gets the point across quickly even though that wasn't really the problem.) Saraswati smiled and nodded and latched her hands firmly onto my hips. One, two, three times back half way.

"I think it will be okay, actually," I said. She already knew. I went back the fourth time and took my breathed. When I stood up, I wanted so badly to give her a hug, but I didn't. I think she probably would have been okay with it though. In the past, Guruji would give you a hug for a little while after deep back bends. I swear she lingered a little longer than usual in the paschimottonasana stretch (which helps counterbalance the back bend).

Later as I thought about these few moments on the mat, I realized that this whole trip has been a slow, steady process of learning, painfully at times, to let go. And here, practicing like this, the relentless demand on my body and on my mind, there is nothing left for me to do but surrender. I'm slowly letting go of the need to absolutely control what I eat. I'm okay with eating with my hands. I don't freak out when ants are the place mat my plate is resting on. I'm brushing my teeth with tap water. I'm okay sitting on a wet toilet seat (this is huge). But in other ways too, I'm learning how to be softer and be easier with myself. In many ways, life has been like this. A gradual process of unpeeling layers, getting closer and closer to my true nature. I don't know what that is, but I feel on one hand I'm closer than I can ever remember, and on the other, part of me is ready to believe that maybe I am already that.

It seems strange to say that. That I don't know my true nature, or that I can't recognize it sometimes. Maybe you don't go through that. Maybe you've never thought about it, maybe you have. Maybe you've figured it out. Maybe no one ever will. But I feel that many painful moments I have come when I lose that vision of myself. In many ways my friend, Rachel, is exploring this in a book she's working on. (Check out her blog: http://www.embodiedmovement.blogspot.com/.)

Often I notice how I forget that I am here inhabiting physical space. John says that small children think from their bellies (when they have an earache and a doctor asks them where it hurts, they will often rub their bellies). In this way, I think that whatever I'm going through emotionally is hanging our in my stomach.

The stomach is the location of the 3rd chakra (pictured), which is associated with how we feel about ourselves. (This site has a lot of really useful info on this!) It is also where we store the energy we need to take charge of our lives. One damages the third chakra by harboring anger (even if we don't know its there), or by wishing "our lives were different without taking any action to change circumstances". An underdeveloped third chakra can manifest itself in having "a fear of life, in general". (It might not seem like it, being as I'm in India, but it took a lot for me to get here. I never thought of myself as fearing life, but the more I think about the way I usually do things, the more I realize that I have a giant condom over my body. I feel like slowly this has been less and less, but it is still there.) A malfunctioning third chakra can show up in mid-body obesity (that has always been an issue, relatively speaking), intestinal disorders, and liver problems.

Okay, so what to do if your third chakra is out of whack?

Realize that you are where you need to be.

Be your own best friend.

realize that nothing is permanent, that you are not stuck.

Realize that dammit, you are not fat, so stop asking!

Do the things that you really want to do.

take the necessary actions to make our dreams come true.

Realize that I am here, alive, and healthy, surrounded by good people, with food, and a place to sleep. But really really really realize it.

Truly let go of anger and the comfort in being sad.

Laugh.

Back in New York, earlier this year, I had a small breakdown in class. I had just come up from grabbing my ankles when I was filled to the brim with an overwhelming feeling of, "I can't". I'm not sure if you remember what this feels like when you are a small child. I didn't until that day. It is absolutely paralyzing. You are so frustrated you want to scream, you want to cry, you want to rip off the soles of your feet and scratch holes into your cheeks. I was filled with an intense, childlike feeling of, "I can't". I waddled to the back of the room , threw down my mat, lied down and fought back tears. I laid there for a few moments, then sat up and walked out. Just like that.

I probably was under the impression that that moment was in the past, that I had gone through it and that it was gone. But based on this last week, and today's resistance in particular, I think that this is not the case. It is so strange feeling like I have no control over a thought like this. Maybe it needs to just come out and I should sit in my room and cry about it and let the frustration happen so that it is out once and for all. Maybe.

And here we are, back at the same realization that keeps on coming up:

Yoga is the cessation of the thinking mind. Then the seer abides in his own true nature.

(yoga sutras, book 1, numbers 2 & 3)

Its a beautiful day outside. I think I'm going to go volunteer at the school. I'm not sure what they do. I think they teach english. I think it would be good to get out of my head, and into the world...

Tomorrow is a moonday, so there will be no classes held.

For Eric, who I miss terribly: