"3 Gurus, 48 Questions"
http://www.namarupa.org/magazine/nr03/downloads/NamaRupa_03_02.pdf
Subscribe to Namarupa
Showing posts with label iyengar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label iyengar. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Namarupa 3 Gurus Interview
"3 Gurus, 48 Questions"
http://www.namarupa.org/magazine/nr03/downloads/NamaRupa_03_02.pdf
Subscribe to Namarupa
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
"Ah ha!" Moments and Guess What? I Love Gymnastics
A few months back, I was busy pondering the difference between my back bends and what they could be. To review, my Iyengar friend Cory Washburn suggested that I "mull over" the concept of opening the back of my knee in drop backs. And mull I have in the hopes of obtaining more control and possibly that ever so lovely moment of suspension before delicately resting my hands to the floor and of course, coming up with no clear indication to the onlooker that that was what was about to occur: it was yoga magic. I knew that this would change a few things and require a shift in mind and body, but the idea of a "pain"-free and healthy back bend (productive back bending, really) kept me optimistic. I also knew that an indicator that I was if fact opening the back of my knee was being sore in my hamstrings and possibly belly instead of my quads and low back.
Almost two months later, I'm coming up from knee grabbing with legs straight and my butt on fire, my salambasana flying, lagu vajrasana a guarantee, and mayurasana becoming increasingly accessible. So there we have it--ah hah!
I don't remember what exactly compelled me to look up gymnastics on the internet, but somehow there I was googling away. Maybe it was the swimming trials on TV and I thought that watching gymnastics trials might be a great way to spend a rainy afternoon... Anyway, one thing leads to another and I'm watching youtube videos of elite gymnastics training. What I found particularly interesting was the number of tears, heartbreak, and toil behind the scenes movies that were listed. So it is hard. I get it. I love that people make videos of it. My favorite was a clip of this tiny girl maybe 8 years old in a supta padangustasana type position with her coach sitting on her extended leg while he pushed her raised leg with two hands into her face. She alternated between pushing her leg away and arms to the sides in exasperation, all in a fit of tears and agony. Wow.
I got to thinking about the similarities between the tears and toil in ashtanga practice and gymnastics and then between the two practices (and dedication to anything, really). There is quite a bit of hard work, frustration, and dumb and numb persistence involved. I know that even mentioning gymnastics on an ashtanga blog is controversial. Let's just get that out of the way.
Why would it be controversial? Well in case you're new, here's the rundown:
1. Because the origins of the hatha practice of ashtanga yoga are a bit vague. There, I said it. The original text that the practice is based on called the Yoga Korunta was eaten by ants, disintegrated, burned, vanished, etc. Some people say that it was a mix of yoga stretches, gymnastics, and wrestling exercises. Ashtanga people don't like this interpretation at all because it implies that the practice is very much based on practices that could be considered superficial in that they are based in the physical rather than the mental.
2. Because maybe people might think that I was a gymnast up until yesterday and so obviously this makes ashtanga yoga so easy for me and there is no merit in anything I do or say because I didn't have any tears or toil. I admit, I did gymnastics for a couple of years as a kid with Olympic dreams...REALLY big dreams. However, when I started yoga, I couldn't touch my toes. Now dancers are a whole other story...jk
3. Because if I'm entertained by gymnastics then I must hold a lot of merit in the physical aspect of practice and therefore am an asana-obsessed ego maniac. This one is true. ha.)
Now back to the gymnastics. I'm fascinated by the whole thing. The coaches, the grueling training, how strange it is to glamorize prepubescent girls, the eating disorders, the drama, the psychology, the voyeurism, just all of it. But most of all, I find it incredibly interesting that gymnastics is largely a kids' sport that destroys their bodies, while ashtanga yoga is extremely physically demanding, yet can be maintained for a lifetime and actually makes the body healthier. Where is the line drawn? Obviously, there is much more to this crazy ashtanga stuff than the poses.
Almost two months later, I'm coming up from knee grabbing with legs straight and my butt on fire, my salambasana flying, lagu vajrasana a guarantee, and mayurasana becoming increasingly accessible. So there we have it--ah hah!
I don't remember what exactly compelled me to look up gymnastics on the internet, but somehow there I was googling away. Maybe it was the swimming trials on TV and I thought that watching gymnastics trials might be a great way to spend a rainy afternoon... Anyway, one thing leads to another and I'm watching youtube videos of elite gymnastics training. What I found particularly interesting was the number of tears, heartbreak, and toil behind the scenes movies that were listed. So it is hard. I get it. I love that people make videos of it. My favorite was a clip of this tiny girl maybe 8 years old in a supta padangustasana type position with her coach sitting on her extended leg while he pushed her raised leg with two hands into her face. She alternated between pushing her leg away and arms to the sides in exasperation, all in a fit of tears and agony. Wow.
I got to thinking about the similarities between the tears and toil in ashtanga practice and gymnastics and then between the two practices (and dedication to anything, really). There is quite a bit of hard work, frustration, and dumb and numb persistence involved. I know that even mentioning gymnastics on an ashtanga blog is controversial. Let's just get that out of the way.
Why would it be controversial? Well in case you're new, here's the rundown:
1. Because the origins of the hatha practice of ashtanga yoga are a bit vague. There, I said it. The original text that the practice is based on called the Yoga Korunta was eaten by ants, disintegrated, burned, vanished, etc. Some people say that it was a mix of yoga stretches, gymnastics, and wrestling exercises. Ashtanga people don't like this interpretation at all because it implies that the practice is very much based on practices that could be considered superficial in that they are based in the physical rather than the mental.
2. Because maybe people might think that I was a gymnast up until yesterday and so obviously this makes ashtanga yoga so easy for me and there is no merit in anything I do or say because I didn't have any tears or toil. I admit, I did gymnastics for a couple of years as a kid with Olympic dreams...REALLY big dreams. However, when I started yoga, I couldn't touch my toes. Now dancers are a whole other story...jk
3. Because if I'm entertained by gymnastics then I must hold a lot of merit in the physical aspect of practice and therefore am an asana-obsessed ego maniac. This one is true. ha.)
Now back to the gymnastics. I'm fascinated by the whole thing. The coaches, the grueling training, how strange it is to glamorize prepubescent girls, the eating disorders, the drama, the psychology, the voyeurism, just all of it. But most of all, I find it incredibly interesting that gymnastics is largely a kids' sport that destroys their bodies, while ashtanga yoga is extremely physically demanding, yet can be maintained for a lifetime and actually makes the body healthier. Where is the line drawn? Obviously, there is much more to this crazy ashtanga stuff than the poses.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Jedi Mind Tricks aka "Seduce Your Knee" aka Iyengar for Ashtanga People
I'm standing with one leg bent and my foot perched on a bench. Cory sits, stroking and cooing at my knee, as she repeats "you must seduce your knee... no you are willing it! Seduce it, seduce it..." I twist my face in agony as I try with everything in me to figure out the difference between "seducing" and "willing" my knee. "This is easy for men," she says. "For women it is very hard." She smiles. I laugh.
"Seducing my knee" says she, is the secret for my pasasana. It is the saving grace to my tendency toward knock-knee inheritance and another hurdle on the path to working on my samskaras.
Guy says it isn't a twist. "What is it then?" I ask. A standing pose? A balance? What is it? "Maybe a hanging pose," he laughs. I frown. [A noose--ha!] Does defining the category of the pose get my heels closer to the floor?
"You have to hold your bandhas and then lower down slowly," Petra tells me before she gracefully lowers her seat to her heels. "Now you try." I fall over.
"It takes one year to get the heels down," 'A' tells me. Is this a metaphor?
The perfect end to this would be a multifaceted experience where I pull all this info together into a "perfect" pasasana and post the picture below. A testament to my hard work, determination, and practice.
Maybe tomorrow.
But you know, I couldn't even hold the pasasana minus the twist a year ago and now I can. I couldn't take a loose bind and lift my butt until my heels go down and now I can. I couldn't confidently bind and hang out (even if I'm on my toes) and now I can. And after being told to "seduce" my knee on Saturday, I melted down to my heels on Sunday (minus the bind but it is coming). Thanks Cory!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
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?
Friday, March 21, 2008
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)