Yoga Without Drama

When a church-member fell and dislocated his shoulder, it was explained to me that though "popping it back into place" is excruciatingly painful, there is a huge drop off in pain that follows. There is a dramatic solution followed by relative peace.

When I first started going to a massage therapist, I would come in with some painful knots or cramped muscles, and expect some kind of equally dramatic resolution to the problem; some kind of breakthrough or the kind of "pop" back into place one experiences on occasion in Chiropractic. Instead what I usually got was a moderate easing of the tension; relaxation rather than release.

This physical experience started to work on my sense of how other kind of tension can be resolved. Much of my life I had thought that psychological or social tension could only be resolved through a climactic dramatic event. If you've ever watched The O.C. you know that all problems are resolved through embarrassing scenes at important public events. I likewise assumed that my problems required some kind of cathartic blow-up or at least an opportunity to monologue and have a good cry.

But in my yoga practice I began to learn that many problems in the physical body can be resolved by backing off when you meet your edge. I had a pain once in my hamstring and so stretched it and stretched it hoping for release. Finally I realized that actually the pain was caused by over-stretching. Nothing was going to heal it but rest (well, maybe some ice and a little Arnica gel). Pushing harder was never going to resolve the problem.

One of the most challenging things I ever had to learn in yoga was how to soften a muscle. (I am still working on this, but at least I understand now that it is possible). I had some chronic upper back knots for awhile and assumed I would have to wait for my next massage to have the knots "broken up" but as I didn't have the funds for a massage just then, I asked my yoga teachers for advice and found a couple Yoga Journal articles on the topic. Whereas I was stretching my arms forward to release the back, they were all suggesting that I stretch my arms behind me to just allow the muscles some relief. One even suggested I "soften the muscles." This is quite a different paradigm. I want some hero to swoop in and to break up the knots, but am learning that for many problems in my life I can just focus my attention on allowing the area in crisis to soften.

Certainly there are times when one's life or relationships are out of alignment and only an act of will and strength can pop them back into a healthy place, but even when one gets chiropractic adjustment, it is important to have the muscles as relaxed as possible for the adjustment to work, and if the muscles are tightly held, there can be more pain in the recovery.

I start to apply this to the rest of my life as well. Maybe I don't need a dramatic ending to my conflict with another person, or to my inner struggles. Maybe I just need to soften. Sure it's a more exciting story when the resolution involves a dramatic event, but I no longer look for drama as the first solution to the tensions in my life.

Variation

When we were working on peacock in triads yesterday, one of my partners apologized "I know it's cheating but I turn the block short-ways because my shoulders are tight" I replied with a chuckle "If you are making a conscious choice it's not a cheat it's a 'variation'." Then it sunk in- that is exactly what a variation is.

Toes

Yesterday when my teacher asked us to lift up our toes in Down Dog, I looked and they were actually off the floor! I assumed that for me this would always be one of those imaginary things that I would never really achieve, just creatively visualize. Hooray for toes!

integration

Recently my Anusara teacher focused class on integrating the strong and the weak parts of the self into one whole. She did such a lovely job, really she could be a preacher. It was like an idea that had been amorphous in my mind, though it under girded my evolving thinking about my practice, suddenly was clarified. If you believe in the wholeness of the self, then your weak, tight, or injured places are not the bad parts of you holding you back from the perfect pose, they are just part of the self which must be integrated into your practice as much as the strong, flexible, healthy parts of yourself.

Growing in your practice is about finding your own expression of the pose, the expression which includes all your years of practice and the strength you have built, while protecting your weak wrist or twitchy psoas. It took less time for me to learn to get into Crane than it did to learn (the hard way) that if I straighten my arms fully I risk an injury that is going to keep me off arm-balances for months. I'm proud of my bent-armed bakasana because it allows me to practice not only strength and balance, but self-knowledge.

IthacaFest

I love the pranadhanas. I mean, I know yoga is about form and alignment and self knowledge and health. It's also just beautiful. I love that live music and dance is happening right now just blocks from our home. I love IthacaFest. I love Ithaca.

Is This an Advanced Pose?

At some point in your yoga practice the question arises "what does an advanced practice look like?" When you are in your first years of practice there are tons of new and exciting poses to be explored. I remember the miraculous feeling I got when my teacher explained the secrets of Ardha Chandrasana or crow. I still think headstand is something of a miracle. But the flow of new poses slowed down as my vocabulary grew. My carving for new poses did not. I used to flip to the back of my Yoga Journal to find the section about how to get into all kinds of crazy pretzels. For a while I just stared admiringly, but then one month I thought "I wonder if I could get into that one?" It took a month or so of practice, but eventually I did get my leg behind my shoulder and managed to balance on one hand. Sometimes I wish I had a mirror so I could see if I'm really in it, and other times I think the pose probably looks better in my mind than in real life.

There are still many poses I just can't do. They say most folks are either good at forward folds or backbends but not both. That's true in my case- my backbend is not going anywhere fast. I will never be able to do any of the poses that involve touching your head with the souls of your feet. I'm pushing 40, and I think even the most consistent dedicated practice is only going to get my feet another inch or so closer to my head at best.

So I've got a couple of goal poses at the moment (I've been plugging away at peacock for quite some time. It teaches me humility and patience if nothing else.) But if you are practicing 3-4 times a week (or more as many long-time folks do) it just can't be about doing exciting new poses all the time. It mostly seems to be about climbing back into Dog again and again and again, and trying to find something new, something more subtle each time. It seems to be about cultivating beginner's mind, about a subtle noticing of how today's Dog is different than yesterday's Dog. Sometimes you flip past the pretzel section of the Yoga Journal to the anatomy section to see what more there is to know about the psoas.

I once read a description of an advanced practice by teacher Martin Hunke who said, to paraphrase, that an advance practitioner was one who knew what the body needed on a given day, and could let that wisdom lead their practice. I had a teacher for a while that would say things like "using a block here is advanced" to goad or dare us to use the props we needed. It's true today that a lot of the students whose practice I admire know where their weaknesses and injuries are, and modify poses to keep themselves safe.

Or I think about BKS Iyengar's explanation in LIght on Life that the goal of asana practice is to put your consciousness into the whole body in every pose. Could it be possible that any pose you bring your full attention and consciousness to is an advanced pose?

Toes

Recently my Anusara teacher reminded us to spread our toes and ground them into the mat in Cobra. I had forgotten I had feet back there. Darn. My Vinyassa teacher in California had been so specific and persistent with that instruction that I would have thought I would need to be reminded.

So, toes spreading and grounding in Cobra. Tail tucking is now exponentially harder. At least Cobra is fresh and alive again.

White Lotus

This past Monday my partner had to work late and I couldn't get to my usual 4:00 Kripalu class. After a week of hotel yoga, I needed inspiration. While I was looking for my Shiva Rea Yoga Mix, I found a White Lotus flow CD which I picked up when I was out there for a yoga retreat 4 years ago. It was very similar to the flow we did back at my old California Studio, but it's been a while since I've done a strict Vinyassa practice. I felt very nostalgic as I was in the flow: for my old studio, for that Vinyassa connection of movement and breath. My sore deltoids the next morning told me that it has been too long.

Hotel Yoga

I've been out of town for the past week, so I've been practicing "hotel Yoga"

You know, the kind you do between the polyester comforter double beds, with one arm brushing the TV console every time you do a sun salutation. I miss my studio, and I miss having space to stretch out, but it's a great feeling to know you can bring your mat along on your journey, and ground yourself in your practice.

Back in the Day

Got a little nostalgic lately, thinking of those years when my son was little, and yoga was a 2 person activity. It started when we went to "Mama and Me" yoga together, but eventually he was disqualified for crawling (pre-crawlers only). Still for years on Saturday mornings he would climb over and under through much of my practice. (Oh how grateful I was for adult time on those days I could practice at the studio.)

Some rules evolved:
Don't climb on Mama when she's on one foot.
Don't climb on Mama when she's on no feet.

This classic shot was taken at Burning Man, the one year we brought our son. He calls this pose "tunnel." It's his favorite.

Dog

Latest Iyengar revelation:

Relax the back of the legs back in Adho Mukha Svanasana.

And even though I've been doing this pose for a decade, it was like I'd never thought of this before.

It's been like a miracle all week.

Psoas

I seem to have pulled my psoas. I blame janu shirshasana. Okay, I blame my own bad alignment, or pushing too hard or something, but I'm pretty sure I did it in Janu Shirshasana. I've done it before, and I think it wakes up an old birth-of-my-son injury, so as I'm hobbling around I'm flashing back on the labor process, and that time I got this same injury in an Ashtanga class and it took a month to heal. I'm being pretty careful and cautious, but the muscles are so deep it really gets under my skin (literally) I'm finding myself irritable and tired.

Partner Work

In my Kripalu class we often do Pincha Mayurasana in groups of 3, so that the person in the pose can wobble all they like and get some feedback about their alignment. Generally I need the same feedback in every pose "tuck your tailbone and pull in the lower ribs." So I'm tucking and tucking and still not aligned properly. I've got 2 classmates and the teacher all trying to explain what is out of alignment, but I'm not getting it. Sometimes it's hard to think when you are inverted, so I come down and my classmate explains that my legs were tilted toward my front.

All of a sudden, after how many weeks of hearing my Iyengar teacher explain that the femurs root back while the tailbone tilts down, I suddenly understand. This need is exposed when your feet are skyward because the floor is not there to hold your legs straight up and down. It's one of those yoga enlightenment moments when the sun dawns and the light bulbs come on. Now if only I can do it...

Arriving

This morning I just could not arrive in my practice. It was an Anusara class that I love, but I was so caught in "future planning" mode that I just could not come back from June and May and later-this-week. Some people dwell in the past when their mind wanders, I dwell in the future. I don't think I finally arrived in my breath until Savasana.

To Run or Not to Run

Last year when it got cold and the sidewalks got icy I joined the neighborhood gym for the winter. This year we are conserving money, and really running on a treadmill is like... running on a tread mill. It's practically a metaphor for it's own tedium. Instead I am doing yoga on days too cold to run, and consequently I haven't run in 2 weeks. It was the warmest day of the week today, which means hovering around 20 at running time. And gray. I rolled out my yoga mat again.

By some lovely serendipity, I had scheduled myself months ago to preach my first ever yoga sermon "Lessons learned on the Mat." I've got my stack of yoga books by the computer, and am finally finishing Iyengar's Light on Life. I was looking for a story to tell during the "Lesson for All Ages" and realized that we should just do a few asanas together. I am more nervous about this than the sermon. What poses will hold the interest of our elementary school kids and be accessible to our elders?

I am a little worried about how hard that first run will be when the temperatures get back up into the high 20s or even 30s. But living seasonally is something I believe in, so perhaps winter is the season of yoga. Maybe I just need to have faith that the sun will come back in the spring and I will burst out in my running shoes like those little crocuses bursting through the frozen ground.