Squat

I think I'm noticing a theme in recent posts- "poses I used to hate..."

Because I REALLY used to hate to squat. I remember when I was pregnant with my son folks kept suggesting that squatting was a terrific and traditional position for labor. That seemed crazy to me- I couldn't get my heels on the floor, and I could hold it for about 5 seconds if I was working hard. 

Once that drama was over, I figured I should make friends with the squat. (or malasana if you want to get fancy) The first piece of advice I got was to ground my heels into a blanket or block. It was pretty embarrassing how big I had to roll that blanket, but I obediently kept one handy.  The second insight was that I could move my feet as far apart as I needed to get the heels down. My heels were pretty far apart I can tell you, but the pose changes completely when the heels are on the floor. Then a teacher suggested that some women need to widen their knees far apart as they descend, then can allow the knees to come in a little once they are fully in the pose. The teacher had noticed that some women have a curved rather than straight path into the pose. (I can't attest to the physiology of this, but darned if it didn't work).

But the real key was just to do the pose all the time. If we are between poses in class, or I arrive early and am warming up, I try to remember to include some time just breathing or twisting in squat. Over the years I have been able to lengthen up through the spine more and more, and even have seen my feet creep in so that I can get both big toes on my mat! If the feet need to be close together or parallel, though, I still have to reach for my blanket to prop the heels. The important thing is that I've been able to begin to enjoy Malasana by making it my own, by making it my friend. And as is true in all friendships, the key to a good relationship is spending quality time together.

Back Bends

Mostly I tolerate backbends. Except bridge. I hate bridge. I feel like I'm trying to stuff tissues into a full tissue box. Maybe it's because I'm short waist-ed.  I'm very obedient though, I always include a bridge or two in my practice (3 my first yoga teacher used to say- "backbends are like pancakes, you throw the first 2 away")

Then while I was traveling I accidentally took a hot yoga class where they did tons and tons of standing backbends. I could tell the woman in front of me LOVED backbends. She just had that sense of joy in her backbends, of spaciousness and ease as she gazed evenly behind her.

Moreover, as I got on my mat the next day some knowing had remained in my body. There was some spaciousness left in my muscles and spine from the previous days class. Every sun salutation brought me back to that surprising feeling of openness as I stretched backward from standing mountain pose.  I returned to my home studio requesting, of all things, backbends.

I naturally have kind of an extreme curve in my lower back (my parents and pediatrician used to worry about it when I was little). It means that I am kind of already in a forward fold just standing in Tadasana, and it means that my lower back often feels a little crunched. Every time I visit a new class or meet a new teacher their first recommendation is that I curl my tailbone under. (I know. I'm working on it. I've been working on it since I was 6. Sigh.)

Our teacher often gives the suggestion during backbends to pull the deepest curve out of the lower back and into the middle and upper back. This suggestion plus years of chest openers is finally starting to amount to something- the feeling that backbending can be an opening up instead of a closing down. Recently we were in Pigeon pose and the teacher handed me a pair of blocks "I think you will like this better with blocks" he said. As I grounded my hands into the blocks there was just more and more room to move that curve into the middle and upper back. It was challenging, it was interesting, it was fresh and new. I could finally imagine a time when I might like backbends.

yoga treats

One of the women at my studio made these last week.  Pretty sweet, right? I think that's lotus and side angle.

Why?

A few days ago as I rolled out my mat I was still conflicted about abandoning family and work for my practice that evening. I had to remind myself yet again why I leave the many responsibilities tugging at me and head to the yoga studio. I counted the reasons off to myself.  Exercise, of course; yoga is good for the body. It keeps me in shape and just makes me feel healthier. But really, since I had just been to the studio the day before I could have skipped a day without complete deterioration of my physical self. It’s a spiritual practice too, I reminded myself, a form of meditation. It’s a discipline; it reminds me that I can do the things I set my mind to, and that I can carve out time in my schedule for the things that are important to me.  Later, probably during handstands, I realized the most important truth; yoga is fun. When I was a little girl, I spent most of my free time dancing around my bedroom, and tumbling across the floor. Back when I had no demands on my time and could fill each moment with whatever brought me spontaneous joy, I was doing exactly this.  As adults we hardly ever get to dance around in a big open space like I did when I was little, (just stretching out in public will earn you some weird stares) but for that hour and a half in the yoga studio I can stretch myself out in all directions. I can roll on my back and stand on my hands and even laugh with friends who share the sheer joy of such things.  By choosing yoga as my practice, as my spiritual discipline, I have built what I enjoy most about being alive right into my day. It’s a commitment worth keeping, even if it takes me a while to remember why.

Pain Free?

While I was on the west coast, I visited a  Hot yoga class where the teacher encouraged us -- "some day you will be pain free."

"Really?" I thought "is that our goal?"

I remembered back to an Ashtanga class years ago when our teacher remarked that "injury has a certain inevitability to it."  I consider an Anusara class where our teacher talked about honoring our whole self, the broken as well as the healthy. What different philosophies these remarks reflect.

My great goal in yoga is not an absense of pain, though I do generally feel better than before I started to practice. I fantasize about practicing until I'm 80 (pincha mayurasana at 80 - that's my goal) and know that things break and wear out as we age. I've experienced plenty of that already.

I guess my sense of the goal of yoga is to be  interested in whatever happens, and to breathe and stay present with the experience in each moment, whatever may come.