India: The Practice
Dani, what are you doing?” Guru Ji asked me in a stern but loving tone as I pedaled out my legs and twisted my body from side to side in downward facing dog. “Warming up my body?” I half asked/answered scared and confused... My mind was racing: was I doing something wrong? I was simply going through the posture as I always had back home; how I was taught to do when my body was tight. “Find stillness. Heels down, toes up.” he instructed. I stopped what I was doing and immediately followed his guidance. (I wasn’t in California any more). Then the most remarkable thing happened… my hamstrings lengthened, my shoulders rolled out, my knees lifted, I activated my bhandas (abdominal connection) and I found the most glorious stretch I had ever felt in this asana before! HOLY SHIT, I’ve been doing this wrong my entire practice!
That’s pretty much how I feel every day I step onto my mat here in India. I find that I am unlearning many things that have actually been causing my body damage or preventing me from growing, relearning things that I thought I knew but realize now I only touched on the surface, and discovering so much more for the first time! For example, did you know that Prananyama (a form of meditative and cleansing breathing) without retention (holding your breath) is simply breathing and doesn’t truly “count” as pranayama meditation?!?! MIND = BLOWN! But perhaps the craziest moment that happened on my mat thus far occurred on my second day in India.
I was in the middle of practicing Ashtanga Primary Series alone in the beautiful yellow yoga hall when Guru Ji came over to me and instructed that I take a seat. I had seen him around the Ashram every so often, but the first day I largely kept to myself. I was tired from the long hours of travel, homesick for my family and fighting off the dark cloud that was circling my head. This was the first time he and I were to have an actual conversation since my arrival, and I had no idea what to expect from him. I hadn’t asked permission to be in the yoga hall either. I saw it was unoccupied and set myself up on one of the old loaner mats I found in the corner. It was a light shade of purple with many holes in it; a sure sign that it had captured a lot of energy from previous practitioners. I waited in high anticipation to see if I was to be scolded, or not. He then asked: “Why are you practicing primary series?”; I took his question as a deeper one than it actually was, and answered with what I thought was the philosophical response he wanted. “Because it is the foundation to my entire practice. It makes me feel good and puts me into balance.” I told him, feeling pride in my answer. He chuckled … “That’s a good answer, but no Dani, why are you not practicing Second Series Ashtanga?”. Oh… (face palm) I could feel my cheeks turn a light shade of red with understanding. I was in India practicing yoga, but not everything had to be so philosophical! HAHAHA! I told him that I didn’t think I was ready for the Secondary Series and that my teacher back home told me that most people stay in Primary their entire lives.
He looked directly into my eyes, serious, calm, and focused, and told me “You are not ‘most people’. Its time.” I was scared shitless to say the least, if you have never seen images of secondary series feel free to look them up. It essentially consists of twisting your body (in a similar fashion to how an owl rotates his head) for half of the practice … the other half you are upside down, bent in half backwards, or bringing your legs around your neck! I never dreamed that I would advance to the Intermediate training, let alone be told to do so this quickly. I always held the people who had such progressions with immense reverence and looked at them with extreme awe; people like the ever so fabulous Kino MacGregor (a FOURTH series Ashtangi who I love following on InstaGram). But now, it was my turn to grow. My mind was scattered trying to focus on what the heck was happening. How did he know I was ready? What did he see that others back home didn’t or just simply didn’t tell me? I hope I don’t get injured before classes begin. What was I thinking coming here alone?! Each negative fear-filled thought came in, one after another. After 30 seconds, which felt like an entire lifetime, he brought over my manual as a reference in case I got lost in the movements and told me he would stay close by for the remainder of my practice. I am so glad I didn’t drink water before I started, because I totally would have peed my pants. I originally intended to flow in this room alone because I was feeling nervous about my own training, which had suffered immensely for the past year due to my depression and overworking myself toward new career goals (like a true-fashioned-type-A-modern-western-woman). I was lucky if my feet touched my yoga mat as a student 1x per week since April. Now, here I was with my Guru watching me (unexpectedly) encouraging me to advance myself, and the official classes hadn’t even begun!
I started to go through the asanas one by one, beginning with Pashasana (a bound squatting pose). I lowered myself down and began to twist my body attempting to hook my arm around my legs … not one leg … BOTH of them. ‘This is impossible, my body was not designed for this’, were the first thoughts that passed through my restricted mind. Guru Ji could see the obvious tension written all over my face and came back to me. “Breathe and focus on creating space. Forget about reaching your fingers and just visualize your body growing longer.” I looked up at him with complete trust … trust that he might be a little crazy and I even crazier for listening, but I did what he said. This is what I came here for. I took one of the longest inhales of my life and on my exhale I began to visualize my body growing longer. I imagined my arms extending, my torso lengthening, and my chest opening. I even visualized my fingers growing longer centimeter-by-centimeter. In my mind I had gorilla arms and was 6’7” tall. I took another inhale (breathe Dani, don’t forget to breathe) and as I exhaled something miraculous happened: my fingers from my right hand found my left!!!! OMFG! OMG OMG I DID IT!!!! How the hell did that happen?!! That’s impossible! I looked up and Guru Ji who was smiling ear to ear. My shoulders were burning, my tight chest felt like it was on fire, and my hips wanted nothing more than to release and stretch. So…I followed my natural instincts and let go.
“Dani, why did you release? The yoga has just begun!” (OMG he wants me to do this again?! AND HOLD IT?!?) I go through the process one more time on my right side this time staying in the unfamiliar pose for 2-5 minutes. I don’t know exactly how long it was because my years of teaching/practicing yoga have taught me that looking at the clock is the worst mistake you can make. Time will literally stand still. I wanted nothing more than to let go of my grip. It wasn’t agony in the pose, but it wasn’t a weekend at a luxury resort either. This was yoga; the skill set of moving through the discomfort. Challenging myself, not just my body; that’s the easy part. But this was about “yogash Chittavrittinirodhah”- stopping/controlling/eliminating the patterns of the mind, the second Sutra in Pantanjali’s Yoga Sutras (the philosophical guidebook to establishing a yoga practice).
The pattern I was working through was to run as soon as it got scary difficult. Something I have struggled with in my life on and off of my yoga mat. That and letting go of the resentment that my life had challenges in the first place. To give myself the feeling of pleasurable release in the difficult asana would get me no where other than searching for more pleasure in life while keeping me at my current ability. I would go nowhere but want nothing more than to move forward; a slow poisoning of the mind and a sure-fire recipe for mental suffering.
What I have found is with the feeling of pleasure comes attachment and ultimately discontent. Why discontent? Because if you are constantly striving for pleasure you are looking towards the future gains of that feeling and ignoring the beauty of whats happening in the present moment. Sometimes the present moment is uncomfortable and even painful, but there is a lot that can be discovered about The Self through those experiences. Anyone who has gone through a rough break up or gotten laid-off from a job might be able to relate. You learn so much about yourself when life isn’t going “according to plan”.
Pantanjali says there is actually no such thing as pleasure when practicing a yoga lifestyle; there are only painful and non-painful experiences. Pleasure takes you off of The Path. You can find something as non-painful, but to call it pleasurable is to remove yourself from your practice because if you are unable to find bliss in the moment you will constantly be striving for something better, something more pleasurable. Ex: I need a new pair of jeans… I need a new sweater to go with the new pair of jeans … I need a new haircut to go with the new sweater to go with the new pair of jeans. Another example: a person starts by taking ecstasy one time with their friends at a party, the pleasure is unimaginable, so they do it again the next weekend and the weekend after that. All of a sudden they start to feel ill content with the mundane feelings of Monday-Friday and begin to take the drug a few times a week. Pretty soon feeling the sensation of pleasure is the only goal and they are keeping themselves in that synthetic state of body bliss every day. In a sense it’s a philosophical game of “if you give a mouse a cookie”.
Flash back to the yellow yoga studio: my arms had gone almost numb, my hips settled into a feeling of deep tissue tingling and my ankles were wondering when my next massage was. “Aaaaannnnnd release” Guru Ji instructed. (Oh sweet baby Jesus, thank you!) Now I am not a religious person, but in that moment of liberation I connected to a divine energy inside of myself. I was exhausted but felt stronger than when I practiced back home. I had pushed myself where applicable to create space for the moment. I was invincible and truly capable of more than I gave myself credit for. As I was in the middle of my silent happy dance I remembered, there was another side to complete! Shit. Here we go again ...
The process repeated itself in this way for the next 10 postures. I didn’t complete the entire second series that day but I achieved something incredible within myself. I had discovered what practicing yoga truly means, it is the journey to the Self, through the Self. Learning something about who you are every time you step on your mat. Sometimes it’s a big lesson, philosophical and deeply thought provoking, other times it’s something small like the correct way to roll your shoulders, but either way, you learn.
After two weeks of daily practice, sometimes up to 5 hours of instruction, motivating myself through strength building postures, learning how to relax my body in stretching asanas, and staying with them all in uncomfortable yet meaningful stillness, I have found new boundaries to break through . . . new mountains to climb, and have seen some extraordinary views in the process. I have even been toying with the idea of one day reaching Ashtanga Third Series, but lets take this one-day at a time. The point is, just because something isn’t happening right now, doesn’t mean it wont ever happen. Life is a learning process, just like at school we must start with the A B Cs of life. This might be painful, or non-painful, it might be boring or completely captivating but if you are present you will learn something by moving through the experience.
“A mind that is stretch by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.”
-Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.