Thursday 30th March 2006
Simi often used to play music during practice but I haven’t noticed any music playing in David's Mysore classes at the shala. This morning Angie brought in a CD which David put on after the opening chant. Music is almost primordial in the way it can draw a response from our very soul. My entire mood is easily coloured by whatever music is playing in the background.
Today was no exception.
Angie's CD was meditative; intimate voices of a small choir; melancholy, reverent music that seeped in and filled up all the spaces around me. I was engulfed and suddenly it felt like I was practising in a magnificent cathedral...religious...overwhelming.
I cried…all the way through practice, the harmonic voices touching the most tender wounds of my soul. Puddles formed on my mat as each tear fell. It was becoming a deeply moving, cathartic practice.
Grace filled my empty body and flowed upwards and out through my fingertips as I raised my arms. Bringing my palms together and looking up, I was filled with a yearning for ascension; I carried this prayer within my palms as they descended softly down past my heart; I folded in half, opening up my palms at the last moment, offering my prayers to the earth.
This was the beginning of the Surya Namaskars and the ecclesiastical feeling-tone continued for the next 2 hours: reverence, divine longing, sorrow and joy permeating every moment of practice.
I didn’t try to contain my tears; the emotion was pure and reverent, not self-indulgent. I let the tears gently express my love, moving with, and being moved by, the experience.
Approaching Supta Kurmasana, I sensed that David was occupied elsewhere. Knowing I wouldn’t be adjusted today, I went into it alone and submerged myself into the shadowy depths of this dark pose. Then like an angel Simi appeared behind me; silently, patiently and gradually, she moved me into a secure bind that I wanted to stay in forever, ankles firmly crossed behind my head. She hadn’t been assisting in class today and had interrupted her own practice to come over to me. I was so grateful.
There was a point where the drizzle of tears started to escalate and I thought I might start sobbing out loud, my breath had started to catch in my throat – it was just after the Garbha Pindasana rolls. I had to pause mid-stream, recompose myself and feel the reassuring support of the solid ground for a moment. Emotion sparked by the higher impulses of love, truth and beauty can deteriorate into self pity when left unattended; I redirected the emotion back upwards from the lower to the higher sphere, back towards the divine.
Tears fell freely during Baddha Konasana, their little splashes magnified at such close range. I did BK A, humbly surrendering my body to the earth again, then BK B, curling protectively into an embryonic circle, then BK C, coming up to face the world again, liquid eyes, naked wet face. David’s presence behind me was an invisible prompt to repeat and replay them, so I surrendered completely again, this time beneath his weight in A, then pressing back into him for B and C, softly pushing my shape up into his body as much as I could in the moment.
Urdhva Dhanurasana came around and I had no hesitation. Strangely this pose felt like a comforting friend. I did 4 of them, filling out my curved body like a hand giving shape to a glove, then I sat up to check if David was free – but again he was preoccupied at the front of the room, this time carefully watching Simi’s lithe form as she dropped back. I watched too. So graceful and strong. I took note of how she lifted her arms then rotated her shoulders, spreading outwards across the back shoulders, front shoulders slightly contracting so that her raised palms faced backwards, thumbs on the outerside. Then she bent her elbows, maintaining the shoulder rotation so her elbows pointed forwards, she curved and dropped back softly, her hands turning at the last suspended moment before touchdown. Exquisite.
I stood up, feeling light, free, and softened. With a childlike naiivety, I too dropped back softly into Urdhva Dhanurasana. Thoughts were suspended, mind was neutral, heart soft and open. Three solo dropbacks before David came over to assist with 5 more. I hadn’t done solo dropbacks since before the back injury last year. I approached them full of love instead of fear and hesitation, and let that love flow through my body. Something beautiful had come over me and the dropbacks were the pinnacle of my faith and surrender.
As is often the case lately, I was the last to leave. After changing into my work clothes, I left the building just ahead of Simi and David, so I asked if they’d noticed I’d been crying throughout the practice. They hadn’t. I immediately felt a twinge of melancholy that my tears and emotions had gone unnoticed, but then I felt a sense of relief. Somehow the teachers’ detachment reminded me that whatever arises, passes away.
(Angies CD is "Liquid Mind VI" Spirit).
Thanks Ange.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 27th March 2006
That moment when the alarm goes off at 5.05am is critical – eyes spring open – it’s Groundhog Day again. What’s the first thought? What mind state do I choose as the flavour of my day? What’s the motivation for even getting out of bed to face another Groundhog Day?
I faltered for a minute or two this morning thinking that yesterday’s double whammy of practice and surfing might have physically overtaxed me. Could I manage to get up and do another practice? I did. You see I’m learning not to listen to that voice of doubt - it’s negative and it’s usually wrong. These negative thoughts cleverly steer us away from our ideals. I’m waging war on them, exposing and exterminating them.
Not only did I overcome the lazy voice telling me to stay in bed (AND it did have a very persuasive argument) I proved it wrong by having a really good practice. The heat of my inner conviction burned more brightly for having overcome the initial doubt. I was sparking. I could have easily set fire to my corner of the shala. The Meditative Beginner was next to me again this morning, but I was much more involved with my own practice than hers today.
Physically I have three challenges to work with in this practice at the moment (will reflect on the mental, emotional and spiritual ones another time):
1) My right knee has been gradually stiffening up over the years, and it seems like no amount of extended work in the half lotus poses is improving it. Can still do full Padmasana, but I figure it’s only a matter of time before I lose it. I think my knee’s just deteriorating with age as all body parts eventually must do.
So be it.
2) My right shoulder joint is all askew, twisted and knotty. Prasaritta Padottanasana C shows it up. There’s always at least one pose in the Primary series which will expose a defect (bad word but couldn’t think of another). Wading out into the ocean yesterday, surfboard floating on the water next to me, my right hand guiding the board, I noticed how I had to tighten my right shoulder and arm to control the board each time a wave came through. The shoulder joint was feeling really unstable, so maybe surfing has caused the problem. If so I have two remedies: either jump on the board and start paddling early while still in the shallows or wade out the usual distance holding the board under the other arm, thereby wrecking my left shoulder too.Or there’s option 3: continued adjustments and physical therapy in Prasaritta PadottanasanaC.
3) Challenge number 3 is my lower back which still refuses to curve - probably why it broke (well almost) in Supta Kurmasana last year. All my forward bends are as flat as pancakes but the bend is all from the pelvic tilt. In Padangusthasana today, David told me to pull up the top of my thighs and round my lower back more. He’s onto my Supta Kurmasana case. It feels structurally impossible for me to curve this area, but I know I have to keep working into this to unlock whatever has cemented itself into this area.
Last year I was well on my way to mastering Pasasana before my back injury (Simi had given me poses up to Salabhasana B). Curving the spine is crucial for Pasasana so I wonder if it might be helpful to unofficially explore this pose again. On second thoughts, I should probably stick to what I’m given and start spending double time in Parivritta Parsvakonasana instead – similar work to Pasasana through the hips and lower back.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Sunday 26th March 2006
Sundays are shaping up to be a full day instead of a rest day.
The Sunday ritual for the past few years has been to spend the morning with my partner (after the night before of course), then off to see my Mum at lunchtime then catch up on the past week’s housework and the coming week’s cooking in the afternoon, squeezing in a walk up my favourite mountain somewhere in between.
Now it’s all changed: my partner and I have separated, I no longer live with my son so housework and cooking are redundant, and now I live with Mum so I don’t have to go visit her!
The Sunday ritual has therefore changed. I go to self practice at the shala at 6am, follow that with a kick start coffee and now I’ve made a blood pact with the girls that we’ll keep Sunday afternoons free for surfing every week.
This morning I headed for the shala, did a half-hearted practice then stayed on for the once a month get together; we did some chanting, Simi read a couple of stories and then related an episode from the Bhagavad Gita. After that about 10 of us shared breakfast on the shala floor. It was quite nice to sit around and mingle. Then off surfing in the afternoon and back in time for dinner.
It’s curious how I yearn for more time to chill out, yet every time there’s a window of opportunity to do nothing I have to fill it up with something else like there’s no tomorrow.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Simi often used to play music during practice but I haven’t noticed any music playing in David's Mysore classes at the shala. This morning Angie brought in a CD which David put on after the opening chant. Music is almost primordial in the way it can draw a response from our very soul. My entire mood is easily coloured by whatever music is playing in the background.
Today was no exception.
Angie's CD was meditative; intimate voices of a small choir; melancholy, reverent music that seeped in and filled up all the spaces around me. I was engulfed and suddenly it felt like I was practising in a magnificent cathedral...religious...overwhelming.
I cried…all the way through practice, the harmonic voices touching the most tender wounds of my soul. Puddles formed on my mat as each tear fell. It was becoming a deeply moving, cathartic practice.
Grace filled my empty body and flowed upwards and out through my fingertips as I raised my arms. Bringing my palms together and looking up, I was filled with a yearning for ascension; I carried this prayer within my palms as they descended softly down past my heart; I folded in half, opening up my palms at the last moment, offering my prayers to the earth.
This was the beginning of the Surya Namaskars and the ecclesiastical feeling-tone continued for the next 2 hours: reverence, divine longing, sorrow and joy permeating every moment of practice.
I didn’t try to contain my tears; the emotion was pure and reverent, not self-indulgent. I let the tears gently express my love, moving with, and being moved by, the experience.
Approaching Supta Kurmasana, I sensed that David was occupied elsewhere. Knowing I wouldn’t be adjusted today, I went into it alone and submerged myself into the shadowy depths of this dark pose. Then like an angel Simi appeared behind me; silently, patiently and gradually, she moved me into a secure bind that I wanted to stay in forever, ankles firmly crossed behind my head. She hadn’t been assisting in class today and had interrupted her own practice to come over to me. I was so grateful.
There was a point where the drizzle of tears started to escalate and I thought I might start sobbing out loud, my breath had started to catch in my throat – it was just after the Garbha Pindasana rolls. I had to pause mid-stream, recompose myself and feel the reassuring support of the solid ground for a moment. Emotion sparked by the higher impulses of love, truth and beauty can deteriorate into self pity when left unattended; I redirected the emotion back upwards from the lower to the higher sphere, back towards the divine.
Tears fell freely during Baddha Konasana, their little splashes magnified at such close range. I did BK A, humbly surrendering my body to the earth again, then BK B, curling protectively into an embryonic circle, then BK C, coming up to face the world again, liquid eyes, naked wet face. David’s presence behind me was an invisible prompt to repeat and replay them, so I surrendered completely again, this time beneath his weight in A, then pressing back into him for B and C, softly pushing my shape up into his body as much as I could in the moment.
Urdhva Dhanurasana came around and I had no hesitation. Strangely this pose felt like a comforting friend. I did 4 of them, filling out my curved body like a hand giving shape to a glove, then I sat up to check if David was free – but again he was preoccupied at the front of the room, this time carefully watching Simi’s lithe form as she dropped back. I watched too. So graceful and strong. I took note of how she lifted her arms then rotated her shoulders, spreading outwards across the back shoulders, front shoulders slightly contracting so that her raised palms faced backwards, thumbs on the outerside. Then she bent her elbows, maintaining the shoulder rotation so her elbows pointed forwards, she curved and dropped back softly, her hands turning at the last suspended moment before touchdown. Exquisite.
I stood up, feeling light, free, and softened. With a childlike naiivety, I too dropped back softly into Urdhva Dhanurasana. Thoughts were suspended, mind was neutral, heart soft and open. Three solo dropbacks before David came over to assist with 5 more. I hadn’t done solo dropbacks since before the back injury last year. I approached them full of love instead of fear and hesitation, and let that love flow through my body. Something beautiful had come over me and the dropbacks were the pinnacle of my faith and surrender.
As is often the case lately, I was the last to leave. After changing into my work clothes, I left the building just ahead of Simi and David, so I asked if they’d noticed I’d been crying throughout the practice. They hadn’t. I immediately felt a twinge of melancholy that my tears and emotions had gone unnoticed, but then I felt a sense of relief. Somehow the teachers’ detachment reminded me that whatever arises, passes away.
(Angies CD is "Liquid Mind VI" Spirit).
Thanks Ange.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 27th March 2006
That moment when the alarm goes off at 5.05am is critical – eyes spring open – it’s Groundhog Day again. What’s the first thought? What mind state do I choose as the flavour of my day? What’s the motivation for even getting out of bed to face another Groundhog Day?
I faltered for a minute or two this morning thinking that yesterday’s double whammy of practice and surfing might have physically overtaxed me. Could I manage to get up and do another practice? I did. You see I’m learning not to listen to that voice of doubt - it’s negative and it’s usually wrong. These negative thoughts cleverly steer us away from our ideals. I’m waging war on them, exposing and exterminating them.
Not only did I overcome the lazy voice telling me to stay in bed (AND it did have a very persuasive argument) I proved it wrong by having a really good practice. The heat of my inner conviction burned more brightly for having overcome the initial doubt. I was sparking. I could have easily set fire to my corner of the shala. The Meditative Beginner was next to me again this morning, but I was much more involved with my own practice than hers today.
Physically I have three challenges to work with in this practice at the moment (will reflect on the mental, emotional and spiritual ones another time):
1) My right knee has been gradually stiffening up over the years, and it seems like no amount of extended work in the half lotus poses is improving it. Can still do full Padmasana, but I figure it’s only a matter of time before I lose it. I think my knee’s just deteriorating with age as all body parts eventually must do.
So be it.
2) My right shoulder joint is all askew, twisted and knotty. Prasaritta Padottanasana C shows it up. There’s always at least one pose in the Primary series which will expose a defect (bad word but couldn’t think of another). Wading out into the ocean yesterday, surfboard floating on the water next to me, my right hand guiding the board, I noticed how I had to tighten my right shoulder and arm to control the board each time a wave came through. The shoulder joint was feeling really unstable, so maybe surfing has caused the problem. If so I have two remedies: either jump on the board and start paddling early while still in the shallows or wade out the usual distance holding the board under the other arm, thereby wrecking my left shoulder too.Or there’s option 3: continued adjustments and physical therapy in Prasaritta PadottanasanaC.
3) Challenge number 3 is my lower back which still refuses to curve - probably why it broke (well almost) in Supta Kurmasana last year. All my forward bends are as flat as pancakes but the bend is all from the pelvic tilt. In Padangusthasana today, David told me to pull up the top of my thighs and round my lower back more. He’s onto my Supta Kurmasana case. It feels structurally impossible for me to curve this area, but I know I have to keep working into this to unlock whatever has cemented itself into this area.
Last year I was well on my way to mastering Pasasana before my back injury (Simi had given me poses up to Salabhasana B). Curving the spine is crucial for Pasasana so I wonder if it might be helpful to unofficially explore this pose again. On second thoughts, I should probably stick to what I’m given and start spending double time in Parivritta Parsvakonasana instead – similar work to Pasasana through the hips and lower back.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Sunday 26th March 2006
Sundays are shaping up to be a full day instead of a rest day.
The Sunday ritual for the past few years has been to spend the morning with my partner (after the night before of course), then off to see my Mum at lunchtime then catch up on the past week’s housework and the coming week’s cooking in the afternoon, squeezing in a walk up my favourite mountain somewhere in between.
Now it’s all changed: my partner and I have separated, I no longer live with my son so housework and cooking are redundant, and now I live with Mum so I don’t have to go visit her!
The Sunday ritual has therefore changed. I go to self practice at the shala at 6am, follow that with a kick start coffee and now I’ve made a blood pact with the girls that we’ll keep Sunday afternoons free for surfing every week.
This morning I headed for the shala, did a half-hearted practice then stayed on for the once a month get together; we did some chanting, Simi read a couple of stories and then related an episode from the Bhagavad Gita. After that about 10 of us shared breakfast on the shala floor. It was quite nice to sit around and mingle. Then off surfing in the afternoon and back in time for dinner.
It’s curious how I yearn for more time to chill out, yet every time there’s a window of opportunity to do nothing I have to fill it up with something else like there’s no tomorrow.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Friday 24th March 2006
Practice Notes
I blatantly ignored the Ashtanga rule not to practice for the first 3 days of the menstrual cycle.
Yes I did take off Day 1 (Wednesday) which is usually my shala day; then on Day 2 (yesterday) I practiced in the Gallery with Renate. Because I was feeling physically and mentally really well, I only slightly modified the Primary sequence, leaving out the vinyasas between seated poses and replacing the finishing inversions with some reclining passive poses (Iyengar style). I rarely do passive lay-over-bolster poses these days, so it was a nice change to end with these, very soft and female. The rest of Thursday’s practice was strong, connected and intense, but not tense, really enjoyable.
The highlight (and I’ve taken to picking out highlights from each practice to focus on lately) was the Marichyasana quartet today, engaging in deep soulful communion with each of them.
And Savasana…I lay there at the end, enveloped in an incredible lightness of being.
“Be still and know that I am God” came out of nowhere so I let the words flow through me like soft waves, until I started to expand outward into light. Dissolution felt so close.
I came out of Savasana altered.
These shifts are small, but they’re permanent.
Because I missed out on Mysore practice on Wednesday, I decided this morning (Day 3) to skip Darrin’s led class (Iyengar) and go to David’s led Primary (Ashtanga) instead.
Not an insignificant decision because the Friday morning Iyengar class has been a ritual of mine for years. Alas, Ashtanga has captivated my heart.
Even after a shockingly bad night’s sleep thanks to Buffydog yapping her obsessive head off at the possums in the roof all night, STILL there was no hesitation when the alarm went off at 5am this morning.
In the very recent past, I would have used lack of sleep as an excuse to miss practice, buying into those ridiculous stories about how I’ll be tired all day, how I really really need the extra 2 hours sleep, how I shouldn’t practice on Day 3 anyway…blah blah.
Not any more. When that alarm went off at 5am I’d been awake for at least an hour, trying every trick in the book to quieten the possessed puppy and remain calm. So I just got up – no stories. My head was clear and bright, my mind undisturbed. I guess morning practice has become important now and nothing, not even 3 hours sleep, can sabotage that any more.
David’s led class was fun; I think he took into account that a few beginners he’s been working closely with were there, because he explained a lot of basic things and modified a few poses. We did 5 Surya As but only 3 Bs. We didn’t do Parivritta Parsvakonasana which was disappointing as I need all the practice I can get in this one. I wonder if it was intentional or if he just forgot, considering we did the entire sequence of poses thoroughly up to Marichy C.
In Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana, we had to keep the raised leg bent so the thigh was vertical and the shin parallel to the floor. We held the outside of the foot instead of the big toe which meant the elbow was bent and on the outside of the raised leg. He asked us to look at the similarity between this arm/leg relationship and that of Parsvakonasana. And he had something there. Standing in UHP like this I did feel quite weak in the hip of my raised (bent) leg which David often points out to me in Parsvakonasana. According to David we need to firm the outer thighs more and lift the kidneys.
In Virabhadrasana A we put our hand onto the outer knee of the bent leg and pressed it inwards equally resisting that by pressing the knee outwards. Isometric work.
Lots more little investigations like this all the way through which is why we only got up to Marichyasana C. I guess the beginners shouldn’t have even gone that far.
Instead of the full Marichy C pose we did it in stages, starting at a wide open Janu Sirsasana position and twisting towards the bent leg while staying upright and centred on the sit bones. Stage 2 was staying in the twist and lifting the bent knee up half way. I have such a bad memory I can’t remember if he asked us to press the knee down into the opposite hand that was supporting it or whether I just did that anyway. Stage 3 we raised the knee even higher and hooked the opposite elbow under the knee. Not difficult at all, just an exploration. So we really started with the full lift and twist of the torso in Marichy C but with the bent knee on the floor and gradually worked the bent knee up in stages.
All the inversions were cut down to half time and we didn’t do Headstand which was a good thing for me. Being Day 3 of my period, in theory I shouldn’t have been practising and certainly shouldn’t have been doing inversions. Physically I’m pretty strong and resilient, not a fragile sort of girl at all, so I'm not concerned.
My body feels quite light and lovely at the moment – like the innocent body of a child. Feels clear and clean through all the prana channels. Children are born pure like this, their bodies and minds clear, clean, open and receptive. Did Jesus say “Be ye as a little child”? Something like that anyway. I'm reclaiming the innocence that Nature gave me, the innocence that I lost when I grew up into an adult.
I passed up the opportunity to have a chocolate croissant for breakfast and actually chose a beautiful golden banana and some gigantic purple grapes instead to prolong the gorgeous feeling of light in my body. Food that is of the same lightstuff material as my cells. Like attracting like, for easy absorption and osmosis.
Then a strange thing happened this morning at work. I wandered into the boss’s office and asked for a 10% salary increase.
Very cool. Very calm. Very clear. Very luminous.
What’s MOST extraordinary is that it was such a spur of the moment thing for me to do, not like me at all. I felt an invisible force, like a big hand just guiding me in there and the words seemed to come out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about them. So I just went along with it for the ride.
I really don’t know what possessed me to do such a thing! There’s a much higher force at work here folks.
My request goes to the next Finance Committee meeting in 4 weeks. They won't say no. So why didn't I do this ages ago?
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 20th March 2006
Practice Notes
Damn – woke up feeling like Gumby today, a bit lethargic and unmotivated, not extreme, but enough to clip my wings a little.
STILL, no hint of resistance to getting out of bed and to the shala for practice. Those “let me stay in bed” demons appear to have been exorcised from my temple, evidence of progress along the purification path, or perhaps just a stronger intention to follow my ideal. Hmm, I think those two things are related.
But Gumby struggled all the way through practice, cutting corners wherever she could get away with it: only 4 breaths in some standing poses, reverting to the occasional lazy jump through, only 3 Navasanas, arms outside of legs for Garbha Pindasana etc etc. When I’m like this, it shows in my body too, less flexible. David had quite a struggle crossing my ankles in Supta K then they just flipped open when he let go. Towards the end as I got sloppier, I even skipped a few poses: Ubhaya Padangusthasana, Urdhva Mukha Paschimottanasana and Matsyasana.
Mysteriously, I brightened up at the prospect of assisted dropbacks so pushed up into a few backbends to prepare, then did about 6 assisted dropbacks, down and up quite quickly, sort of flopping into them easily instead of thinking or trying too much.
The highlight today wasn’t anything in my own practice. It was being next to the Meditative Beginner again. She fascinates me (this shall pass). She exudes utter composure and focus, her movements are slow and precise but not forced, and she spends 2 hours on the practice only going up to Parsvottanasana then she sits in meditation. She is becoming my teacher.
David gave her Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana today and just had her holding her big toe with her raised leg bent, no leg extension. He gave her a couple of points to work with in UHP, but emphasised to focus on how the breath can help her to balance.
I love the way this system is taught, pose by pose, each pose the perfect link to the next one in the chain.. There’s great integrity to this practice – it can take years to learn the full Primary sequence, but it’s a lifetime practice. I’m relearning how to practice by being next to this lovely beginner. Beginners Mind is a familiar term throughout Zen Buddhism. Letting go of all these convoluted ideas of how I ‘should’ practice, and instead being more present, quiet and in tune with each fulfilling moment as it arises. There it is again: Paying attention and letting go.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Sunday 19th March 2006
Good, solid, self practice in the quiet of the shala this morning. Could become my new Sunday morning ritual, sure beats sleeping in.
David was there doing his own practice but I was in a seriously self-contained and self-focussed space on my mat today, so I didn’t even look sideways once. Angie was there of course, she’s always there. That was it, the three of us.
If I were to pick a highlight for the sake of rambling on about practice (which I feel like doing, but I won’t), it would be Shoulderstand and Headstand today. When I’ve had a really good practice, these two poses move me into another dimension – as if the practice has led me to the edge of this new dimension and the inversions are the key to entering.
So I’m at the café now, meandering my way through Sunday morning. I have no plans at all for the rest of the day. How bizarre.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Practice Notes
I blatantly ignored the Ashtanga rule not to practice for the first 3 days of the menstrual cycle.
Yes I did take off Day 1 (Wednesday) which is usually my shala day; then on Day 2 (yesterday) I practiced in the Gallery with Renate. Because I was feeling physically and mentally really well, I only slightly modified the Primary sequence, leaving out the vinyasas between seated poses and replacing the finishing inversions with some reclining passive poses (Iyengar style). I rarely do passive lay-over-bolster poses these days, so it was a nice change to end with these, very soft and female. The rest of Thursday’s practice was strong, connected and intense, but not tense, really enjoyable.
The highlight (and I’ve taken to picking out highlights from each practice to focus on lately) was the Marichyasana quartet today, engaging in deep soulful communion with each of them.
And Savasana…I lay there at the end, enveloped in an incredible lightness of being.
“Be still and know that I am God” came out of nowhere so I let the words flow through me like soft waves, until I started to expand outward into light. Dissolution felt so close.
I came out of Savasana altered.
These shifts are small, but they’re permanent.
Because I missed out on Mysore practice on Wednesday, I decided this morning (Day 3) to skip Darrin’s led class (Iyengar) and go to David’s led Primary (Ashtanga) instead.
Not an insignificant decision because the Friday morning Iyengar class has been a ritual of mine for years. Alas, Ashtanga has captivated my heart.
Even after a shockingly bad night’s sleep thanks to Buffydog yapping her obsessive head off at the possums in the roof all night, STILL there was no hesitation when the alarm went off at 5am this morning.
In the very recent past, I would have used lack of sleep as an excuse to miss practice, buying into those ridiculous stories about how I’ll be tired all day, how I really really need the extra 2 hours sleep, how I shouldn’t practice on Day 3 anyway…blah blah.
Not any more. When that alarm went off at 5am I’d been awake for at least an hour, trying every trick in the book to quieten the possessed puppy and remain calm. So I just got up – no stories. My head was clear and bright, my mind undisturbed. I guess morning practice has become important now and nothing, not even 3 hours sleep, can sabotage that any more.
David’s led class was fun; I think he took into account that a few beginners he’s been working closely with were there, because he explained a lot of basic things and modified a few poses. We did 5 Surya As but only 3 Bs. We didn’t do Parivritta Parsvakonasana which was disappointing as I need all the practice I can get in this one. I wonder if it was intentional or if he just forgot, considering we did the entire sequence of poses thoroughly up to Marichy C.
In Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana, we had to keep the raised leg bent so the thigh was vertical and the shin parallel to the floor. We held the outside of the foot instead of the big toe which meant the elbow was bent and on the outside of the raised leg. He asked us to look at the similarity between this arm/leg relationship and that of Parsvakonasana. And he had something there. Standing in UHP like this I did feel quite weak in the hip of my raised (bent) leg which David often points out to me in Parsvakonasana. According to David we need to firm the outer thighs more and lift the kidneys.
In Virabhadrasana A we put our hand onto the outer knee of the bent leg and pressed it inwards equally resisting that by pressing the knee outwards. Isometric work.
Lots more little investigations like this all the way through which is why we only got up to Marichyasana C. I guess the beginners shouldn’t have even gone that far.
Instead of the full Marichy C pose we did it in stages, starting at a wide open Janu Sirsasana position and twisting towards the bent leg while staying upright and centred on the sit bones. Stage 2 was staying in the twist and lifting the bent knee up half way. I have such a bad memory I can’t remember if he asked us to press the knee down into the opposite hand that was supporting it or whether I just did that anyway. Stage 3 we raised the knee even higher and hooked the opposite elbow under the knee. Not difficult at all, just an exploration. So we really started with the full lift and twist of the torso in Marichy C but with the bent knee on the floor and gradually worked the bent knee up in stages.
All the inversions were cut down to half time and we didn’t do Headstand which was a good thing for me. Being Day 3 of my period, in theory I shouldn’t have been practising and certainly shouldn’t have been doing inversions. Physically I’m pretty strong and resilient, not a fragile sort of girl at all, so I'm not concerned.
My body feels quite light and lovely at the moment – like the innocent body of a child. Feels clear and clean through all the prana channels. Children are born pure like this, their bodies and minds clear, clean, open and receptive. Did Jesus say “Be ye as a little child”? Something like that anyway. I'm reclaiming the innocence that Nature gave me, the innocence that I lost when I grew up into an adult.
I passed up the opportunity to have a chocolate croissant for breakfast and actually chose a beautiful golden banana and some gigantic purple grapes instead to prolong the gorgeous feeling of light in my body. Food that is of the same lightstuff material as my cells. Like attracting like, for easy absorption and osmosis.
Then a strange thing happened this morning at work. I wandered into the boss’s office and asked for a 10% salary increase.
Very cool. Very calm. Very clear. Very luminous.
What’s MOST extraordinary is that it was such a spur of the moment thing for me to do, not like me at all. I felt an invisible force, like a big hand just guiding me in there and the words seemed to come out of my mouth before I had a chance to think about them. So I just went along with it for the ride.
I really don’t know what possessed me to do such a thing! There’s a much higher force at work here folks.
My request goes to the next Finance Committee meeting in 4 weeks. They won't say no. So why didn't I do this ages ago?
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 20th March 2006
Practice Notes
Damn – woke up feeling like Gumby today, a bit lethargic and unmotivated, not extreme, but enough to clip my wings a little.
STILL, no hint of resistance to getting out of bed and to the shala for practice. Those “let me stay in bed” demons appear to have been exorcised from my temple, evidence of progress along the purification path, or perhaps just a stronger intention to follow my ideal. Hmm, I think those two things are related.
But Gumby struggled all the way through practice, cutting corners wherever she could get away with it: only 4 breaths in some standing poses, reverting to the occasional lazy jump through, only 3 Navasanas, arms outside of legs for Garbha Pindasana etc etc. When I’m like this, it shows in my body too, less flexible. David had quite a struggle crossing my ankles in Supta K then they just flipped open when he let go. Towards the end as I got sloppier, I even skipped a few poses: Ubhaya Padangusthasana, Urdhva Mukha Paschimottanasana and Matsyasana.
Mysteriously, I brightened up at the prospect of assisted dropbacks so pushed up into a few backbends to prepare, then did about 6 assisted dropbacks, down and up quite quickly, sort of flopping into them easily instead of thinking or trying too much.
The highlight today wasn’t anything in my own practice. It was being next to the Meditative Beginner again. She fascinates me (this shall pass). She exudes utter composure and focus, her movements are slow and precise but not forced, and she spends 2 hours on the practice only going up to Parsvottanasana then she sits in meditation. She is becoming my teacher.
David gave her Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana today and just had her holding her big toe with her raised leg bent, no leg extension. He gave her a couple of points to work with in UHP, but emphasised to focus on how the breath can help her to balance.
I love the way this system is taught, pose by pose, each pose the perfect link to the next one in the chain.. There’s great integrity to this practice – it can take years to learn the full Primary sequence, but it’s a lifetime practice. I’m relearning how to practice by being next to this lovely beginner. Beginners Mind is a familiar term throughout Zen Buddhism. Letting go of all these convoluted ideas of how I ‘should’ practice, and instead being more present, quiet and in tune with each fulfilling moment as it arises. There it is again: Paying attention and letting go.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Sunday 19th March 2006
Good, solid, self practice in the quiet of the shala this morning. Could become my new Sunday morning ritual, sure beats sleeping in.
David was there doing his own practice but I was in a seriously self-contained and self-focussed space on my mat today, so I didn’t even look sideways once. Angie was there of course, she’s always there. That was it, the three of us.
If I were to pick a highlight for the sake of rambling on about practice (which I feel like doing, but I won’t), it would be Shoulderstand and Headstand today. When I’ve had a really good practice, these two poses move me into another dimension – as if the practice has led me to the edge of this new dimension and the inversions are the key to entering.
So I’m at the café now, meandering my way through Sunday morning. I have no plans at all for the rest of the day. How bizarre.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
The Gallery space where I teach and practice.
One of Renate's Sculptures from the upcoming exhibition in the Gallery.
Thursday 16th March 2006
I am not an island
How much I’m affected by the energy of the person next to me reflects how absorbed I am in my practice. The physical surroundings do influence our practice to some degree – think of the heated or cold room, whether its brightly lit or dark, the choice of music or silence, layout of the mats, number of people there etc.
Renate didn’t have her usual pep yesterday (she may be coming down with something) so she veered off course almost from the start and did a hodge-podge of poses, finishing up early. I started strong, the entire block of standing poses energetic and precise, riding on a smooth, powerful breath which meant a longer, stronger stay in each pose. A full practice could have/should have followed but by the time I got to Marichy D I’d lost it. Renate’s practice had seeped into mine. To save myself from guilt or disappointment, I fleshed out every counted breath of the finishing inversions, not skimping on any of the poses. Shoulderstand and Headstand are the glorious crowing jewels of the practice and I suspect they hold all the secrets of hatha yoga between them.
Today I did a full Primary practice at the shala, powered by the residual caffeine in my system – racy mind and racy body.
On my left was a girl who has often inspired me – she’s one of those quiet girls who are there every day, no ego, no fuss, floaty vinyasas like parachutes, hands to her ankles in Urdhva Dh etc etc. My scattered mind made it extra difficult not to sneak the occasional peek at her. Once or twice I even switched to peripheral vision, then had to invisibly slap my own face to snap back to correct dristi. But she wasn’t the one who influenced me this morning. I was blessed to have on my right side, a strong beginner who started with 10 minutes in meditation then took almost two hours to do her practice up to Parsvottanasana.
She practiced with a deep, slow Ujjiyi breath which made me wonder if she’d come to Ashtanga from a one of the yoga styles that emphasises Pranayama. The sound of her beautifully controlled, even breath made me acutely aware of how panicky I was today and actually helped to calm me down to a milder stae of frenzy. Yes, I secretly borrowed from her today.
Being next to someone with a strong, light energetic practice can inspire and whip my own practice into better shape; on the other hand if I’m next to someone who is moving slowly, repeating poses, breathing loudly, taking a few breaths between poses etc, it can slow me down, which occasionally (like this morning) is not such a bad thing.
Unfortunately what’s just occurred to me is that it’s a synergistic thing, a double edged sword, a two way street. If they can affect my practice, my energy might well be affecting theirs. – Funny, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before especially as I’m quite sensitive to the subtle energetics and dynamics that weave invisible threads between people. Once you become aware of this subtle level of interplay, you have to take responsibility for what you give out, not only in your actions and words, but also in your thoughts because they too form part of the invisible fabric. So with that insight, my conscience now won’t allow me to practice in my little self-contained bubble any more.
My mat is no longer an island.
I’m compelled to do nothing less than my best on that mat so I can lift others up with me.
My practice is now secretly for the benefit of everyone in that room.
But what happens when I wake up at 5am feeling like Gumby? Should I still go to practice? Should I put my mat next to a superyogi who might arouse my spirit and lift ME up, or should I hide in the corner so as not to infect anyone?
I had to ponder this one for a while before the answer dawned on me: don’t wake up feeling like Gumby. Pure and simple.
Idle chatter about practice
Being the day after a moonday, I thought there’d be a lot more than 8 people there today. Small numbers are not so good for business, but it does mean extra attention and adjustments. Surprisingly, David gave me no verbal directions at all today. In Tuesday’s class he instructed me a lot more in the finer points, like pressing my thighbones outwards in a lot of the poses. As usual, I was trying to translate it to my body parts but they just weren’t listening.
I figure the change of tact today was either
a) he’s given up in frustration,
b) he’s letting it all sink in and not adding further to my confusion,
c) he wasn’t in a talky mood today, or
d) none of the above because he’s very detached and has no personal interest, so all speculation is a product of my rampant imagination.
His adjustment of my pelvis in Parsvakonasana lifted and rotated it so far that my front knee was only bent to 45 degrees instead of 90 degrees. I frowned.
He’s totally re-educating me in the shoulder mechanics of Prasarita Padottanasana C. In 3 years, my hands have made no progress towards the floor, so I'm having to deconstruct the entire top end of this pose to rebuild it correctly, one bit at a time. David’s now getting me to do it with my palms turned outwards instead of the traditional inward rotation until my stubborn shoulders give up their misguided habits. I love being a beginner again. Reminds me of David Kelman, speaking about how his teacher Christopher Hildebrandt made him start all over again with his Ashtanga practice pose by pose (article in Fit Yoga). I can relate to that…it’s not easy unlearning some of my Iyengar habits.
David supported my raised foot throughout the entire Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana sequence, both sides, with not one word about how to move both my femurs in relation to each other or press the outer heels more, unlike the tutorial I got on Tuesday. I thought he might be testing me to see if I could bring those actions to the pose unaided by his prompts. Was it femurs pressing out, or femurs squeezing in – I couldn’t remember – what a muddle – I tried both while he was holding up my leg, watching me in silence. If it was a test I failed.
Well, I could go on and on about the rest of today’s practice, but it might get even more trivial if that’s possible. It’s all light entertainment really, writing it and reading it, like the useless gossip you read in women’s magazines. No depth to today’s thinking at all.
Small mind...big mind...no mind. They all come and go.
Small mind likes to think and write about practice trivia; big mind likes to ponder universal thoughts.
No mind just smiles.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I am not an island
How much I’m affected by the energy of the person next to me reflects how absorbed I am in my practice. The physical surroundings do influence our practice to some degree – think of the heated or cold room, whether its brightly lit or dark, the choice of music or silence, layout of the mats, number of people there etc.
Renate didn’t have her usual pep yesterday (she may be coming down with something) so she veered off course almost from the start and did a hodge-podge of poses, finishing up early. I started strong, the entire block of standing poses energetic and precise, riding on a smooth, powerful breath which meant a longer, stronger stay in each pose. A full practice could have/should have followed but by the time I got to Marichy D I’d lost it. Renate’s practice had seeped into mine. To save myself from guilt or disappointment, I fleshed out every counted breath of the finishing inversions, not skimping on any of the poses. Shoulderstand and Headstand are the glorious crowing jewels of the practice and I suspect they hold all the secrets of hatha yoga between them.
Today I did a full Primary practice at the shala, powered by the residual caffeine in my system – racy mind and racy body.
On my left was a girl who has often inspired me – she’s one of those quiet girls who are there every day, no ego, no fuss, floaty vinyasas like parachutes, hands to her ankles in Urdhva Dh etc etc. My scattered mind made it extra difficult not to sneak the occasional peek at her. Once or twice I even switched to peripheral vision, then had to invisibly slap my own face to snap back to correct dristi. But she wasn’t the one who influenced me this morning. I was blessed to have on my right side, a strong beginner who started with 10 minutes in meditation then took almost two hours to do her practice up to Parsvottanasana.
She practiced with a deep, slow Ujjiyi breath which made me wonder if she’d come to Ashtanga from a one of the yoga styles that emphasises Pranayama. The sound of her beautifully controlled, even breath made me acutely aware of how panicky I was today and actually helped to calm me down to a milder stae of frenzy. Yes, I secretly borrowed from her today.
Being next to someone with a strong, light energetic practice can inspire and whip my own practice into better shape; on the other hand if I’m next to someone who is moving slowly, repeating poses, breathing loudly, taking a few breaths between poses etc, it can slow me down, which occasionally (like this morning) is not such a bad thing.
Unfortunately what’s just occurred to me is that it’s a synergistic thing, a double edged sword, a two way street. If they can affect my practice, my energy might well be affecting theirs. – Funny, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before especially as I’m quite sensitive to the subtle energetics and dynamics that weave invisible threads between people. Once you become aware of this subtle level of interplay, you have to take responsibility for what you give out, not only in your actions and words, but also in your thoughts because they too form part of the invisible fabric. So with that insight, my conscience now won’t allow me to practice in my little self-contained bubble any more.
My mat is no longer an island.
I’m compelled to do nothing less than my best on that mat so I can lift others up with me.
My practice is now secretly for the benefit of everyone in that room.
But what happens when I wake up at 5am feeling like Gumby? Should I still go to practice? Should I put my mat next to a superyogi who might arouse my spirit and lift ME up, or should I hide in the corner so as not to infect anyone?
I had to ponder this one for a while before the answer dawned on me: don’t wake up feeling like Gumby. Pure and simple.
Idle chatter about practice
Being the day after a moonday, I thought there’d be a lot more than 8 people there today. Small numbers are not so good for business, but it does mean extra attention and adjustments. Surprisingly, David gave me no verbal directions at all today. In Tuesday’s class he instructed me a lot more in the finer points, like pressing my thighbones outwards in a lot of the poses. As usual, I was trying to translate it to my body parts but they just weren’t listening.
I figure the change of tact today was either
a) he’s given up in frustration,
b) he’s letting it all sink in and not adding further to my confusion,
c) he wasn’t in a talky mood today, or
d) none of the above because he’s very detached and has no personal interest, so all speculation is a product of my rampant imagination.
His adjustment of my pelvis in Parsvakonasana lifted and rotated it so far that my front knee was only bent to 45 degrees instead of 90 degrees. I frowned.
He’s totally re-educating me in the shoulder mechanics of Prasarita Padottanasana C. In 3 years, my hands have made no progress towards the floor, so I'm having to deconstruct the entire top end of this pose to rebuild it correctly, one bit at a time. David’s now getting me to do it with my palms turned outwards instead of the traditional inward rotation until my stubborn shoulders give up their misguided habits. I love being a beginner again. Reminds me of David Kelman, speaking about how his teacher Christopher Hildebrandt made him start all over again with his Ashtanga practice pose by pose (article in Fit Yoga). I can relate to that…it’s not easy unlearning some of my Iyengar habits.
David supported my raised foot throughout the entire Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana sequence, both sides, with not one word about how to move both my femurs in relation to each other or press the outer heels more, unlike the tutorial I got on Tuesday. I thought he might be testing me to see if I could bring those actions to the pose unaided by his prompts. Was it femurs pressing out, or femurs squeezing in – I couldn’t remember – what a muddle – I tried both while he was holding up my leg, watching me in silence. If it was a test I failed.
Well, I could go on and on about the rest of today’s practice, but it might get even more trivial if that’s possible. It’s all light entertainment really, writing it and reading it, like the useless gossip you read in women’s magazines. No depth to today’s thinking at all.
Small mind...big mind...no mind. They all come and go.
Small mind likes to think and write about practice trivia; big mind likes to ponder universal thoughts.
No mind just smiles.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Sunday 12th March 2006
This morning’s 20 minute trip into the shala for Sunday morning self practice promised to bring my tally up to a 6 day practice week which would be an exceptional achievement for me but sadly it’s not when I look at it honestly. The exceptional part is that I haven’t had even one “getting out of bed at 5am” battle this week – it’s been surprisingly easy and even a joy. But in all honesty, only 3 of the 6 practices (Mon. Tues. and Wed.) were full Primary. At Thursday’s Gallery practice I had to lead a total beginner, so that was half a practice and half a teaching session. Then on Friday I did Darrin’s led Iyengar practice which is always like slipping into my favourite old comfy clothes each week (despite lots of balancing in Handstand then dropping over to a slant board/Urdhva Dhanurasana).
This morning could have been a full Primary practice but there was not much fire in my belly so I stopped at Marichy C. In place of the fire there was a graceful, ballet like femininity, expressing itself through my movements. Grace is a beautiful thing, in all its myriad meanings:
1. Elegance and beauty of movement, form or expression.
2. A pleasing or charming quality
3. Courtesy or decency
4. A delay granted for the completion of a task or payment of a debt
5. The free and unmerited favour of God shown towards humankind
6. A short prayer of thanks
Insight from Jump Throughs
Although I stopped short at Marichy C, for the first time ever I just may have done all the jump throughs properly. I finally got the hang of how to do them without landing bum first a couple of months ago, but I haven’t been doing them consistently in practice. Yet all I needed to do was to make up my mind to do them properly, not just once or twice, but every time.
To get this happening I have to reinstate the intention every time the next jump through comes around, in that split second before the spring up from Dog Pose. At least until it becomes second nature.
Must not give in to the unconscious habit of the lazy jump through, landing cross legged on my bum before extending my legs to Dandasana.
Must not listen to that debilitating voice trying to convince me that my arms and shoulders will tire out if I do it properly every time. Sneaky sabotage.
Well I’m not buying that story any more.
I’m intent on graduating.
At that critical point bending my knees in Dog Pose and preparing to spring forward, I have to clearly and mindfully focus in that moment on what I want. See it happen. Then do it.
Empty mind…pure action.
Intention and resolve are the necessary components for breaking the old mechanical body habit of the lazy minded jump through and replacing it with the shiny, new mental machinery that spits out the correct action every time.
Only with complete mindfulness and clarity in the moment to remember my highest intention will I break the ingrained habits of my old personality.
And that little gem of an insight from the mat is transferable, off the mat and into daily life.
Ah the lessons we learn from our time on the mat.
And then there was a post-practice insight…if I hadn’t sat down with pen and paper and reflected on the practice afterwards, I wouldn’t have given one more thought to the mental reprogramming needed for the jump throughs. Nor would I have made the connection between that split second of remembering the intention, and its incredible power to cut through my unconscious pattern of thinking.
Blogging this stuff really is part of my sadhana, my way of reflecting, remembering, reinforcing, decoding, and revealing all those hidden gems of wisdom that can be so easily lost if not written down soon after. Very much like remembering dreams – if you don’t catch them while they’re still alive in your conscious mind, they slip away forever.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Saturday 11th March 2006
Vanilla
6am Friday morning.
The heady fragrance of Nag Champa incense engulfed me, then entered my bloodsteram, penetrating into my deepest crevices as I swam through the thickly scented air of the yoga studio, performing the Friday morning ritual of setting up bolster and blankets for Supta Virasana. I slid into this familiar pose in the early morning silence of the Iyengar studio, pulling the shutters down over my eyes again, cushioning the transition between the sleepy state and the class to come.
But the fragrance of my favourite incense was everywhere, heady, luscious, overpowering – and it seemed to be coming from Caroline. I politely enquired before she too settled into the blanket of Supta Virasana…to my incredulous horror it wasn’t Nag Champa. She delivered the ultimate insult to my olfactory sensibilities – it was Vanilla body spray from The Body Shop.
Vanilla!
Oh my God! No, not vanilla!
Vanilla is a scent I adore in the puffy French patisserie shops where it so reverently mingles with cinnamon, flour and pears. But the smell of vanilla emanating from humans softly shocks my sense of harmony with its stubborn saccharine stance against our body chemistry. It’s so obviously uncomfortable on alien territory.
I was gob-smacked. This vanilla perfume wafting over from my next door neighbour was stimulating my sense memory of the beautiful Nag Champa scent, reminding me of that breathtaking moment of anticipation when a new box of incense is opened and the heavy, sensual fragrance soaks straight into the fabric of my soul.
Its like unleashing a magnificent genie from an eternity in his bottle.
No way could I identify what I was smelling in the yoga studio as vanilla – it didn’t compute. I know vanilla. I bake often. Vanilla is coy and sweet. This wasn’t. This was definitely my purely beloved Nag Champa.
The scent stayed with me all day. I could smell it everywhere I went. I marvelled at its lingering potency, warm, alluring, slippery, sweet and spicy. I was obsessed.
Had it cast a spell on me like the love potion of Tristan and Iseult?
I tried to think logically…perhaps tiny globulets of the fragrance were caught in the fine hairs of my nasal passages?
That night I showered, washed my hair, and even cleaned out my nose, trying to free myself from its mysterious tentacles. I fell asleep under the spell of Nag Champa in its clever disguise as vanilla body spray.
Upon waking the next morning, the promise of indulging in this seductive scent lured me like a magnet for my first ever foray into The Body Shop. My eyes scanned the unfamiliar shelves of masquerading cosmetics before falling upon the amber liquid in its unassuming bottle. I was transfixed, so excited to see it in the flesh, this magic potion that promised to envelope me forever in a swirling veil of Nag Champa. I nervously picked it up off the shelf, paid the money and walked excitedly back to my car, sprayed it on my wrist and took a deep breath, inhaling every atomic particle of this love drug.
It was nothing like Nag Champa.
The spell was broken.
I smelled like a custard tart.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Friday 10th March 2006
Looking back, the solitary beginning of 2006 did feel unusually ominous. And not without reason. Some significant changes have been occurring over these first two months of the year which are setting up the conditions for me to focus more seriously on my spiritual practice:
- I’ve moved out of the home I’ve shared with my 24 year old son for 10 years, leaving him there to forge his independence and survival skills - this was his clever idea to help sever a not-so-healthy co-dependant mother/son dynamic. We’re both loving our newly found freedom from each other.
- I’ve moved in to my mum’s house by the beach for now, a big house that she has lived in on her own since my father died a year and a half ago. Every evening I wander along the beach with little Buffydog and give thanks for tonight’s celestial fireworks as the sun sinks into the ocean, leaving behind dying streaks of colour.
- My partner and I have separated after a 6 year relationship. The burning need for solitary space in which to pursue my practice meant something radical had to change or give way.
- I’ve returned to a more regular morning Ashtanga practice (5 days this week)
- I’ve returned to a regular evening meditation practice which is still a bit crusty but at least it’s regular.
Life had become full and busy on the outside, but this was preventing me from filling up the inside. Solitude and withdrawal from the stimulation of the outer world feels perfectly natural and almost essential right now. It seems I’ve been secretly longing for this solitude for quite a while, not as an escape from life, but as a means to delve deeper into my spiritual practice while still maintaining a thin lifeline to the world around me.
‘Recluse’: person who lives alone and avoids people (Late Latin recludere to shut away)
‘Hermit’: a person living in solitude, especially for religious reasons (Greek eremos lonely).
That’s me.
I make no apologies.
I have no regrets.
Because today I had an important insight, which has finally dispelled all traces of doubt about the path I’ve taken.
I am, in essence, on retreat.
Now this is not an easy thing to do right smack bang in the middle of city life, but it’s obvious that’s what all these little life changes are about.
Being on a real retreat is an awesome experience (I’m referring here to rigorous meditation retreats like Vipassana, not the so-called ‘retreats’ where you do 50 different new-age activities with a spa and a massage in between each one). On an authentic retreat you suspend all normal activity for a certain period of time so you can spend every waking moment in a meditative state. Your sole purpose and commitment for that period is to deepen your spiritual practice. By removing all distractions you’re free to work on developing the necessary focus to reach sublime levels of deep peace and Samadhi.
What I seem to have been doing since the beginning of the year is setting up my life to replicate these kind of conditions, removing as many obstacles and distractions as possible within the parameters of my daily life so I can further my practice without opting out of society completely.
I still work Monday to Friday 40 hours a week and teach 2 yoga classes on Saturdays.
I’m also committed to practising asana 6 mornings a week and sitting in meditation most evenings. But that is all.
My life has been simplified back to the bare necessities, creating the extra time and stress-free breathing space I’ve been unconsciously seeking for so long.
Creating and maintaining a higher state of consciousness is now my prime motivation in life.
As if to affirm my resolve, a little saying came to me from an unexpected source last week which said
“If you can’t see God in all, you can’t see God at all”
It reminded me of the final goal, and of just how far I have to go.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
This morning’s 20 minute trip into the shala for Sunday morning self practice promised to bring my tally up to a 6 day practice week which would be an exceptional achievement for me but sadly it’s not when I look at it honestly. The exceptional part is that I haven’t had even one “getting out of bed at 5am” battle this week – it’s been surprisingly easy and even a joy. But in all honesty, only 3 of the 6 practices (Mon. Tues. and Wed.) were full Primary. At Thursday’s Gallery practice I had to lead a total beginner, so that was half a practice and half a teaching session. Then on Friday I did Darrin’s led Iyengar practice which is always like slipping into my favourite old comfy clothes each week (despite lots of balancing in Handstand then dropping over to a slant board/Urdhva Dhanurasana).
This morning could have been a full Primary practice but there was not much fire in my belly so I stopped at Marichy C. In place of the fire there was a graceful, ballet like femininity, expressing itself through my movements. Grace is a beautiful thing, in all its myriad meanings:
1. Elegance and beauty of movement, form or expression.
2. A pleasing or charming quality
3. Courtesy or decency
4. A delay granted for the completion of a task or payment of a debt
5. The free and unmerited favour of God shown towards humankind
6. A short prayer of thanks
Insight from Jump Throughs
Although I stopped short at Marichy C, for the first time ever I just may have done all the jump throughs properly. I finally got the hang of how to do them without landing bum first a couple of months ago, but I haven’t been doing them consistently in practice. Yet all I needed to do was to make up my mind to do them properly, not just once or twice, but every time.
To get this happening I have to reinstate the intention every time the next jump through comes around, in that split second before the spring up from Dog Pose. At least until it becomes second nature.
Must not give in to the unconscious habit of the lazy jump through, landing cross legged on my bum before extending my legs to Dandasana.
Must not listen to that debilitating voice trying to convince me that my arms and shoulders will tire out if I do it properly every time. Sneaky sabotage.
Well I’m not buying that story any more.
I’m intent on graduating.
At that critical point bending my knees in Dog Pose and preparing to spring forward, I have to clearly and mindfully focus in that moment on what I want. See it happen. Then do it.
Empty mind…pure action.
Intention and resolve are the necessary components for breaking the old mechanical body habit of the lazy minded jump through and replacing it with the shiny, new mental machinery that spits out the correct action every time.
Only with complete mindfulness and clarity in the moment to remember my highest intention will I break the ingrained habits of my old personality.
And that little gem of an insight from the mat is transferable, off the mat and into daily life.
Ah the lessons we learn from our time on the mat.
And then there was a post-practice insight…if I hadn’t sat down with pen and paper and reflected on the practice afterwards, I wouldn’t have given one more thought to the mental reprogramming needed for the jump throughs. Nor would I have made the connection between that split second of remembering the intention, and its incredible power to cut through my unconscious pattern of thinking.
Blogging this stuff really is part of my sadhana, my way of reflecting, remembering, reinforcing, decoding, and revealing all those hidden gems of wisdom that can be so easily lost if not written down soon after. Very much like remembering dreams – if you don’t catch them while they’re still alive in your conscious mind, they slip away forever.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Saturday 11th March 2006
Vanilla
6am Friday morning.
The heady fragrance of Nag Champa incense engulfed me, then entered my bloodsteram, penetrating into my deepest crevices as I swam through the thickly scented air of the yoga studio, performing the Friday morning ritual of setting up bolster and blankets for Supta Virasana. I slid into this familiar pose in the early morning silence of the Iyengar studio, pulling the shutters down over my eyes again, cushioning the transition between the sleepy state and the class to come.
But the fragrance of my favourite incense was everywhere, heady, luscious, overpowering – and it seemed to be coming from Caroline. I politely enquired before she too settled into the blanket of Supta Virasana…to my incredulous horror it wasn’t Nag Champa. She delivered the ultimate insult to my olfactory sensibilities – it was Vanilla body spray from The Body Shop.
Vanilla!
Oh my God! No, not vanilla!
Vanilla is a scent I adore in the puffy French patisserie shops where it so reverently mingles with cinnamon, flour and pears. But the smell of vanilla emanating from humans softly shocks my sense of harmony with its stubborn saccharine stance against our body chemistry. It’s so obviously uncomfortable on alien territory.
I was gob-smacked. This vanilla perfume wafting over from my next door neighbour was stimulating my sense memory of the beautiful Nag Champa scent, reminding me of that breathtaking moment of anticipation when a new box of incense is opened and the heavy, sensual fragrance soaks straight into the fabric of my soul.
Its like unleashing a magnificent genie from an eternity in his bottle.
No way could I identify what I was smelling in the yoga studio as vanilla – it didn’t compute. I know vanilla. I bake often. Vanilla is coy and sweet. This wasn’t. This was definitely my purely beloved Nag Champa.
The scent stayed with me all day. I could smell it everywhere I went. I marvelled at its lingering potency, warm, alluring, slippery, sweet and spicy. I was obsessed.
Had it cast a spell on me like the love potion of Tristan and Iseult?
I tried to think logically…perhaps tiny globulets of the fragrance were caught in the fine hairs of my nasal passages?
That night I showered, washed my hair, and even cleaned out my nose, trying to free myself from its mysterious tentacles. I fell asleep under the spell of Nag Champa in its clever disguise as vanilla body spray.
Upon waking the next morning, the promise of indulging in this seductive scent lured me like a magnet for my first ever foray into The Body Shop. My eyes scanned the unfamiliar shelves of masquerading cosmetics before falling upon the amber liquid in its unassuming bottle. I was transfixed, so excited to see it in the flesh, this magic potion that promised to envelope me forever in a swirling veil of Nag Champa. I nervously picked it up off the shelf, paid the money and walked excitedly back to my car, sprayed it on my wrist and took a deep breath, inhaling every atomic particle of this love drug.
It was nothing like Nag Champa.
The spell was broken.
I smelled like a custard tart.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Friday 10th March 2006
Looking back, the solitary beginning of 2006 did feel unusually ominous. And not without reason. Some significant changes have been occurring over these first two months of the year which are setting up the conditions for me to focus more seriously on my spiritual practice:
- I’ve moved out of the home I’ve shared with my 24 year old son for 10 years, leaving him there to forge his independence and survival skills - this was his clever idea to help sever a not-so-healthy co-dependant mother/son dynamic. We’re both loving our newly found freedom from each other.
- I’ve moved in to my mum’s house by the beach for now, a big house that she has lived in on her own since my father died a year and a half ago. Every evening I wander along the beach with little Buffydog and give thanks for tonight’s celestial fireworks as the sun sinks into the ocean, leaving behind dying streaks of colour.
- My partner and I have separated after a 6 year relationship. The burning need for solitary space in which to pursue my practice meant something radical had to change or give way.
- I’ve returned to a more regular morning Ashtanga practice (5 days this week)
- I’ve returned to a regular evening meditation practice which is still a bit crusty but at least it’s regular.
Life had become full and busy on the outside, but this was preventing me from filling up the inside. Solitude and withdrawal from the stimulation of the outer world feels perfectly natural and almost essential right now. It seems I’ve been secretly longing for this solitude for quite a while, not as an escape from life, but as a means to delve deeper into my spiritual practice while still maintaining a thin lifeline to the world around me.
‘Recluse’: person who lives alone and avoids people (Late Latin recludere to shut away)
‘Hermit’: a person living in solitude, especially for religious reasons (Greek eremos lonely).
That’s me.
I make no apologies.
I have no regrets.
Because today I had an important insight, which has finally dispelled all traces of doubt about the path I’ve taken.
I am, in essence, on retreat.
Now this is not an easy thing to do right smack bang in the middle of city life, but it’s obvious that’s what all these little life changes are about.
Being on a real retreat is an awesome experience (I’m referring here to rigorous meditation retreats like Vipassana, not the so-called ‘retreats’ where you do 50 different new-age activities with a spa and a massage in between each one). On an authentic retreat you suspend all normal activity for a certain period of time so you can spend every waking moment in a meditative state. Your sole purpose and commitment for that period is to deepen your spiritual practice. By removing all distractions you’re free to work on developing the necessary focus to reach sublime levels of deep peace and Samadhi.
What I seem to have been doing since the beginning of the year is setting up my life to replicate these kind of conditions, removing as many obstacles and distractions as possible within the parameters of my daily life so I can further my practice without opting out of society completely.
I still work Monday to Friday 40 hours a week and teach 2 yoga classes on Saturdays.
I’m also committed to practising asana 6 mornings a week and sitting in meditation most evenings. But that is all.
My life has been simplified back to the bare necessities, creating the extra time and stress-free breathing space I’ve been unconsciously seeking for so long.
Creating and maintaining a higher state of consciousness is now my prime motivation in life.
As if to affirm my resolve, a little saying came to me from an unexpected source last week which said
“If you can’t see God in all, you can’t see God at all”
It reminded me of the final goal, and of just how far I have to go.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Wednesday 8th March 2006
Yet another mediochre practice, barely working up the energy to stay with it all the way through. Wisely chose to put my mat on the other (left) side of the shala this morning, instead of my preferred (right) side. There were about 8 people lined up on the left side and only 2 on the right so I was number 9 in the long row and down by the door, which meant I was tucked away in the corner and no-one was opposite me, thank goodness. I felt a bit underequipped to practice properly today but managed to put in a reasonable effort anyway, only cheating in Garbha Pindasana wrapping my arms around my Padmasana legs instead of through them – really just too fazed out to get up and find the water bottle.
After limping through the practice, a little stiffer than usual, I got a tidal wave of inspiration at the very end just in time for the backbends. Pushed up into 5 increasingly rounder Urdhva Dhanurasanas waiting for David to come and correct me in the finer points. I did 2 more while he wrapped my elbows inwards with his knees and strongly adjusted my thoracic spine at the same time. Then I did another 2 while he adjusted me from the other end, his palm firmly planted up into my sacrum to extend and stretch it longways. Instead of getting weaker and more tired through the shoulders and arms trying to stay up and work in the backbends, I seemed to get more energy the more I did. David helped with three dropbacks, wrapping my shoulders and triceps forward as I lifted my arms up from the starting prayer position, all the while trying to keep that sternum lifted and not losing any of this while I dropped back. I’m sure I could have done a few more.
Odd how the entire practice can feel dull and overcast then suddenly the sun pops out and lights up the body right at the end.
(Note to myself: play with the newly discovered weather metaphor when work is slow)
I think I remembered my “Pay attention and let go” mantra a couple of times during practice this morning….incorporating this is going to take some mental rewiring of my hard drive. I might have to tie a string around my finger.
Anyway I’m having a good time being back in the Ashtanga loop.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tuesday 7th March 2006
6am yoga practice with Renate in the Gallery today, surrounded by a really impressive new abstract painting exhibition called “The colour of music”.
I’m so lucky to be able to teach yoga and practice in this lovely space, surrounded by the changing artwork. The exhibitions have less impact on me than on Renate. I guess working here every day numbs me a little to all the art that comes and goes and as soon as I hit the mat my antennas are directed inwards so whatever’s on the walls or the floors disappears off my radar. Renate on the other hand is a vibrant artist and sculptor so she engages much more intimately with art than I do. For her, the artwork can be distracting if it’s very good or very bad.
Practice was monotone today – not in a negative sense, but more like the monotone of The Eternal Om. Sort of plugged into another dimension but quietly and intently so. A bit tight and achy in my back from yesterday’s full Primary practice and David and Simi’s adjustments, so my entire body felt restricted by my tender back today.
Managed to get through all the standing poses slowly, methodically and mindfully, then scrapped the vinyasas between seated poses in favour of a quieter experience of them. Stopped at Marichy B, so from there I teased out the limit of today's backbend arch then spent a long, luscious time soaking in all the finishing poses.
Overall, still in physical recovery from yesterdays’ practice but also saving myself for tomorrow’s practice at the shala.
Looks like it could be a week of 5 consecutive morning practices – what a joy, agony and ecstasy.
“Discipline is remembering what you want.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 6th March 2006
Rene Descartes didn’t quite finish his sentence.
“I think therefore I am” should read “I think therefore I am confused”
If only I could empty my head of the swirling mass of thoughts and return to that beautiful pristine clear state of emptiness and pure awareness.
With my mum away for three weeks, there’s a new found freedom in having her house all to myself. I’ve taken to meditating before going to bed and what I’ve found is a confusing mess polluting my mind. It will take some time and a renewed commitment to meditation practice to settle the mind down into silence and start building up the store of quietude again.
“Discipline is remembering what you want”.
Mondays
I had such a nice morning...got to the shala at a leisurely 6am for what is usually a 2 hour practice (more about that later), then ambled off afterwards to a cafe on my way home – sitting in cafes is my time out, time for not doing, time to think, reflect, ponder, chill out etc for an hour or so. Then it was back home to do a few odd chores before heading off to start work at 12 o’clock.
Not working on Monday mornings is a very nice way to start the working week and it looks like I’ll be doing the 12 – 7.30pm shift at the art school every Monday this semester. Somehow, knowing that I had the morning off made getting up at 5.15am just so much easier - not the perennial battle that I usually lose.
“Discipline is remembering what you want”
Mind Practice
The renewed meditation practice has made me more aware of what an agitated mind I have at the moment (always a shock). Taking time out to sit and look at the mind is quite a wake up call. I’d forgotten what it looks like in there and I haven’t been looking after it - a bit like getting busy and forgetting to do any housework for a while then suddenly realising that the place is a mess. You’ve been stepping over the same pile of dirty laundry for months without noticing. Then a different vision is sparked, you see the mess, and spend an entire day spring cleaning promising yourself you’ll keep it tidy from that moment on. Time to clean up the mind mess.
And so it was, on the walk to the shala this morning, doing a mental pre-flight check, I accepted that I’d be practising with a messy, scattered mind today. And when the mind is all over the place the prana is also dissipated, which means low focus and low energy.
Despite this, I’d planned to practice with a firm intention this morning, the intention being to “Pay attention…and let go”. Now, these words have been following me around all weekend, haunting me, so I figured I should be taking notice – we so often dismiss these inner messages.
This double mantra contains two important seeds that I really want to plant firmly into the foreground of my practice, which means working a lot more on my mind in my practice.
“Pay attention…and let go” sums up the core work of all spiritual practices for me.
It’s so deceptively simple.
To bring these two concepts into the reality of daily life and incorporate them on all levels – not only on the yoga mat and in meditation, but also in the workplace, when dealing with my son, my daughter, my mother, my boss, when walking, eating, shopping, in fact any activity mystical or mundane - by paying full attention the mind is brought completely into the present moment, imbuing everything as a sacred act; and by letting go, we are relinquishing expectations, the fruits of our actions, and the ego’s need to control.
By being fully present and giving everything our undivided attention the mind/body becomes razor sharp in its sensitivity. During asana practice, being fully present not only helps me to feel out the correct the alignment of my body, but also allows me to dive deeper and deeper into the inner experience of the poses, feeling them from the inside, more fully aware of how I am receiving or resisting them, responding or reacting to them.
Then comes the letting go part - not easy in an Ashtanga vinyasa practice – letting go of the desire to go further in a pose, to get better, to make progress seems almost counter-productive. The intention to let go has to be reaffirmed over and over and also has to be applied to all areas of my daily life, my relationships, my goals, my habits. Only by physically relaxing a muscle can it stretch further, only by letting go of desires will things naturally come to me, only by pulling back can I create the space to go further. It's a Catch 22 contradiction, goes against all that we’ve been brought up to believe. In the higher arena, letting go of all beliefs right down to the belief about the person we think we are, will help to empty us out so that Grace can step in and fill us up. Nobodhi home.
I think the first time I came across this magical combination of paying attention and letting go was in Eric Schiffmann’s book “The Spirit and Practice of Moving into Stillness" where he describes the process of Savasana as “Relax and Feel”. That’s all you need to do, he says, over and over.
You lay down at the end of practice, you relax the body (let go) and you feel what happens as you relax (paying attention). You watch the undoing process as its unfolding in front of your inner eyes.
Same thing in meditation – paying attention is cultivated by watching the breath, observing and staying fully present. Letting go is a natural byproduct, you see the thoughts coming and going, passing over the spacious sky of clear awareness, but you don’t hold onto them.
So this morning on the mat, that’s what I wanted to put into practice, paying attention, staying fully present, letting go of all ambitions, and softening back into the moment to moment experience.
I did manage to remember my intention a few times – and that was good enough. It’s a start. And anyway, I figure that’s why we call it practice. Time on the mat is time to practise this stuff. Just remembering to remember can be most frustrating.
Some physical points from practice
In quite a few of the poses this morning, David had me drop my chin to my chest (a la Jalandara Bandha) then draw the sternum up to the chin, then without losing this lifting action, slowly bring the chin up without dropping the sternum. It was an elusive action to maintain, difficult especially in Urdhva Dhanurasana where I had to keep my elbows bent and wrapped inwards while trying to move the sternum to the chin. This small movement is useful in bringing alive the spine at the base of the neck, another one of my body’s many dead areas. I wonder what area of my mind would open if I were actually able to access and bring this area to life.
Mind and body are reflections of each other. Change one and the other responds accordingly.
On that note, I’m more and more convinced that the aching in my front hips which connects to my lumbar is being aggravated by any and all backbending. The back injury last year which brought on this restriction in the hip/lumbar area, surely has its deep roots planted in my past (emotional trauma/deep samskaras) buried way beneath my conscious awareness. Physical resistance that comes up in the practice is like scum rising to the surface during the process of purification. I wish I could just skim it off the top and throw it down the sink instead of stewing in it.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Yet another mediochre practice, barely working up the energy to stay with it all the way through. Wisely chose to put my mat on the other (left) side of the shala this morning, instead of my preferred (right) side. There were about 8 people lined up on the left side and only 2 on the right so I was number 9 in the long row and down by the door, which meant I was tucked away in the corner and no-one was opposite me, thank goodness. I felt a bit underequipped to practice properly today but managed to put in a reasonable effort anyway, only cheating in Garbha Pindasana wrapping my arms around my Padmasana legs instead of through them – really just too fazed out to get up and find the water bottle.
After limping through the practice, a little stiffer than usual, I got a tidal wave of inspiration at the very end just in time for the backbends. Pushed up into 5 increasingly rounder Urdhva Dhanurasanas waiting for David to come and correct me in the finer points. I did 2 more while he wrapped my elbows inwards with his knees and strongly adjusted my thoracic spine at the same time. Then I did another 2 while he adjusted me from the other end, his palm firmly planted up into my sacrum to extend and stretch it longways. Instead of getting weaker and more tired through the shoulders and arms trying to stay up and work in the backbends, I seemed to get more energy the more I did. David helped with three dropbacks, wrapping my shoulders and triceps forward as I lifted my arms up from the starting prayer position, all the while trying to keep that sternum lifted and not losing any of this while I dropped back. I’m sure I could have done a few more.
Odd how the entire practice can feel dull and overcast then suddenly the sun pops out and lights up the body right at the end.
(Note to myself: play with the newly discovered weather metaphor when work is slow)
I think I remembered my “Pay attention and let go” mantra a couple of times during practice this morning….incorporating this is going to take some mental rewiring of my hard drive. I might have to tie a string around my finger.
Anyway I’m having a good time being back in the Ashtanga loop.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tuesday 7th March 2006
6am yoga practice with Renate in the Gallery today, surrounded by a really impressive new abstract painting exhibition called “The colour of music”.
I’m so lucky to be able to teach yoga and practice in this lovely space, surrounded by the changing artwork. The exhibitions have less impact on me than on Renate. I guess working here every day numbs me a little to all the art that comes and goes and as soon as I hit the mat my antennas are directed inwards so whatever’s on the walls or the floors disappears off my radar. Renate on the other hand is a vibrant artist and sculptor so she engages much more intimately with art than I do. For her, the artwork can be distracting if it’s very good or very bad.
Practice was monotone today – not in a negative sense, but more like the monotone of The Eternal Om. Sort of plugged into another dimension but quietly and intently so. A bit tight and achy in my back from yesterday’s full Primary practice and David and Simi’s adjustments, so my entire body felt restricted by my tender back today.
Managed to get through all the standing poses slowly, methodically and mindfully, then scrapped the vinyasas between seated poses in favour of a quieter experience of them. Stopped at Marichy B, so from there I teased out the limit of today's backbend arch then spent a long, luscious time soaking in all the finishing poses.
Overall, still in physical recovery from yesterdays’ practice but also saving myself for tomorrow’s practice at the shala.
Looks like it could be a week of 5 consecutive morning practices – what a joy, agony and ecstasy.
“Discipline is remembering what you want.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 6th March 2006
Rene Descartes didn’t quite finish his sentence.
“I think therefore I am” should read “I think therefore I am confused”
If only I could empty my head of the swirling mass of thoughts and return to that beautiful pristine clear state of emptiness and pure awareness.
With my mum away for three weeks, there’s a new found freedom in having her house all to myself. I’ve taken to meditating before going to bed and what I’ve found is a confusing mess polluting my mind. It will take some time and a renewed commitment to meditation practice to settle the mind down into silence and start building up the store of quietude again.
“Discipline is remembering what you want”.
Mondays
I had such a nice morning...got to the shala at a leisurely 6am for what is usually a 2 hour practice (more about that later), then ambled off afterwards to a cafe on my way home – sitting in cafes is my time out, time for not doing, time to think, reflect, ponder, chill out etc for an hour or so. Then it was back home to do a few odd chores before heading off to start work at 12 o’clock.
Not working on Monday mornings is a very nice way to start the working week and it looks like I’ll be doing the 12 – 7.30pm shift at the art school every Monday this semester. Somehow, knowing that I had the morning off made getting up at 5.15am just so much easier - not the perennial battle that I usually lose.
“Discipline is remembering what you want”
Mind Practice
The renewed meditation practice has made me more aware of what an agitated mind I have at the moment (always a shock). Taking time out to sit and look at the mind is quite a wake up call. I’d forgotten what it looks like in there and I haven’t been looking after it - a bit like getting busy and forgetting to do any housework for a while then suddenly realising that the place is a mess. You’ve been stepping over the same pile of dirty laundry for months without noticing. Then a different vision is sparked, you see the mess, and spend an entire day spring cleaning promising yourself you’ll keep it tidy from that moment on. Time to clean up the mind mess.
And so it was, on the walk to the shala this morning, doing a mental pre-flight check, I accepted that I’d be practising with a messy, scattered mind today. And when the mind is all over the place the prana is also dissipated, which means low focus and low energy.
Despite this, I’d planned to practice with a firm intention this morning, the intention being to “Pay attention…and let go”. Now, these words have been following me around all weekend, haunting me, so I figured I should be taking notice – we so often dismiss these inner messages.
This double mantra contains two important seeds that I really want to plant firmly into the foreground of my practice, which means working a lot more on my mind in my practice.
“Pay attention…and let go” sums up the core work of all spiritual practices for me.
It’s so deceptively simple.
To bring these two concepts into the reality of daily life and incorporate them on all levels – not only on the yoga mat and in meditation, but also in the workplace, when dealing with my son, my daughter, my mother, my boss, when walking, eating, shopping, in fact any activity mystical or mundane - by paying full attention the mind is brought completely into the present moment, imbuing everything as a sacred act; and by letting go, we are relinquishing expectations, the fruits of our actions, and the ego’s need to control.
By being fully present and giving everything our undivided attention the mind/body becomes razor sharp in its sensitivity. During asana practice, being fully present not only helps me to feel out the correct the alignment of my body, but also allows me to dive deeper and deeper into the inner experience of the poses, feeling them from the inside, more fully aware of how I am receiving or resisting them, responding or reacting to them.
Then comes the letting go part - not easy in an Ashtanga vinyasa practice – letting go of the desire to go further in a pose, to get better, to make progress seems almost counter-productive. The intention to let go has to be reaffirmed over and over and also has to be applied to all areas of my daily life, my relationships, my goals, my habits. Only by physically relaxing a muscle can it stretch further, only by letting go of desires will things naturally come to me, only by pulling back can I create the space to go further. It's a Catch 22 contradiction, goes against all that we’ve been brought up to believe. In the higher arena, letting go of all beliefs right down to the belief about the person we think we are, will help to empty us out so that Grace can step in and fill us up. Nobodhi home.
I think the first time I came across this magical combination of paying attention and letting go was in Eric Schiffmann’s book “The Spirit and Practice of Moving into Stillness" where he describes the process of Savasana as “Relax and Feel”. That’s all you need to do, he says, over and over.
You lay down at the end of practice, you relax the body (let go) and you feel what happens as you relax (paying attention). You watch the undoing process as its unfolding in front of your inner eyes.
Same thing in meditation – paying attention is cultivated by watching the breath, observing and staying fully present. Letting go is a natural byproduct, you see the thoughts coming and going, passing over the spacious sky of clear awareness, but you don’t hold onto them.
So this morning on the mat, that’s what I wanted to put into practice, paying attention, staying fully present, letting go of all ambitions, and softening back into the moment to moment experience.
I did manage to remember my intention a few times – and that was good enough. It’s a start. And anyway, I figure that’s why we call it practice. Time on the mat is time to practise this stuff. Just remembering to remember can be most frustrating.
Some physical points from practice
In quite a few of the poses this morning, David had me drop my chin to my chest (a la Jalandara Bandha) then draw the sternum up to the chin, then without losing this lifting action, slowly bring the chin up without dropping the sternum. It was an elusive action to maintain, difficult especially in Urdhva Dhanurasana where I had to keep my elbows bent and wrapped inwards while trying to move the sternum to the chin. This small movement is useful in bringing alive the spine at the base of the neck, another one of my body’s many dead areas. I wonder what area of my mind would open if I were actually able to access and bring this area to life.
Mind and body are reflections of each other. Change one and the other responds accordingly.
On that note, I’m more and more convinced that the aching in my front hips which connects to my lumbar is being aggravated by any and all backbending. The back injury last year which brought on this restriction in the hip/lumbar area, surely has its deep roots planted in my past (emotional trauma/deep samskaras) buried way beneath my conscious awareness. Physical resistance that comes up in the practice is like scum rising to the surface during the process of purification. I wish I could just skim it off the top and throw it down the sink instead of stewing in it.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Wednesday 1st March 2006
Here’s the reason I’ve been spending every Sunday bushwalking and blackberry picking lately:
Hazelnut Berry Friands
185 g butter, melted and cooled
150g (1.25 cup) finely ground hazelnuts (walnuts/almonds are OK but definitely not as good)
6 egg whites
200g (1.25 cups) icing (confectioners) sugar
75g (.75 cup) plain flour
150 - 200g blackberries (blueberries/raspberries OK too)
Sift together the ground nuts, flour and icing sugar.
Whip up egg whites til stiff.
Fold egg whites and butter into dry ingredients until barely combined.
Gently stir in half the berries.
Pour mixture into large muffin or friand pans (or into a loaf tin and pretend it’s a cake). Scatter over rest of berries, pressing them down very gently.
Bake at 200C for about 25 minutes. Let rest in pans for 10 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to cool.
Practice
Got to the shala extra early this morning so I could make an early start and be finished by 7.30am.
Rolled out the sticky mat, started my pre-practice stretches, then noticed that the other early Ashtangis hadn’t started their Mysore pactice. Very odd I thought, they’re usually half way through standing poses by now…???...they all seemed to be killing time, laying on their backs, sitting in lotus, doing slow motion stretching, chatting a little.
I waited for a bit, hoping someone would start their Surya Namaskars, but it didn’t happen. I stretched more...waited...ran out of stretching moves...sat still...and waited, with no idea what we were all waiting for.
I’d so wanted to do a Mysore practice at the shala this morning (the full Monty, complete with the opening chant, the heat, the music, the adjustments, the dropbacks, the lock in to no slacking off).
But I picked the wrong day.
Instead of Mysore practice, David had decided on a sort of led research practice. We used blocks, bolsters and straps to explore the theme of the day – the thighbones – through some classical poses (Baddha Konasana, Paschimottanasana, Supta Virasana, Upavista Konasana) and some slow motion movements in unconventional positions.
I tried really hard to follow, to understand, to transfer his instructions to my muscles and bones, (I really did) but had quite a bit of difficulty connecting into what he was trying to convey.
I came out of the class feeling a bit heavy, like I hadn’t done a physical yoga practice at all, so it was doubly disappointing that I couldn’t grasp today’s thighbone lesson as compensation.
I’m not sure how often David does this kind of class. It’s a really good way of breaking us out of our well worn practice habits, by hammering one particular point, bringing attention and awareness to how one particular part of the anatomy moves and responds, exploring that one point in a number of poses and positions. After an hour and a half of focussing on how to move the thighbones, it should have sunk into my somatic memory forever and be accessible in practice from that day forward. But alas I never quite got it.
Maybe the penny will drop unexpectedly in practice.
Ashtanga Triviality
I flicked through the copy of John Scott’s Ashtanga Yoga book which came back to me after a year of being lent out, and I learned something surprising - but be warned, you won't read anything more embarrassingly trivial than this...
According to John Scott’s technique, in Surja Namaskar B, after inhaling into Upward Dog, you should exhale to the Dog Pose position, then begin the inhale while stepping the foot forward and lifting the arms up to Virabhadrasana A.
After nearly 3 years of Ashtanga practice, I’ve been doing it wrong.
After the inhale into Upward Dog, I’ve been exhaling back to Dog Pose AND stepping my foot forward to the lunge position. From the lunge I then begin the inhalation to raise my arms up to Virabhadrasana A.
Was I taught it this way to start off with? Or did I just always do it my way and no-one noticed or corrected me? Or maybe it's not wrong at all, just different? Is there only one way? Really it's a minor point in the bigger scheme of things, so I don’t know why I’m making such a deal about it. Guess it shows up the introverted dristi I have right now if I can get obsessed about one breath.
The John Scott way makes sense from a timing perspective because the breath:movement ratio is spaced out more evenly through the movements. But I still wonder about it. Stepping the foot forward from Dog Pose is a closing movement because the thigh is drawn into the abdomen; and when you make movements that close or contract the abdominal area in yoga it feels more natural to exhale.
Perhaps I’ll ask David at class next week before I eat humble pie and teach it correctly to all of MY students.
If anyone can shed light on this ridiculously trivial point, drop me an email.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Here’s the reason I’ve been spending every Sunday bushwalking and blackberry picking lately:
Hazelnut Berry Friands
185 g butter, melted and cooled
150g (1.25 cup) finely ground hazelnuts (walnuts/almonds are OK but definitely not as good)
6 egg whites
200g (1.25 cups) icing (confectioners) sugar
75g (.75 cup) plain flour
150 - 200g blackberries (blueberries/raspberries OK too)
Sift together the ground nuts, flour and icing sugar.
Whip up egg whites til stiff.
Fold egg whites and butter into dry ingredients until barely combined.
Gently stir in half the berries.
Pour mixture into large muffin or friand pans (or into a loaf tin and pretend it’s a cake). Scatter over rest of berries, pressing them down very gently.
Bake at 200C for about 25 minutes. Let rest in pans for 10 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to cool.
Practice
Got to the shala extra early this morning so I could make an early start and be finished by 7.30am.
Rolled out the sticky mat, started my pre-practice stretches, then noticed that the other early Ashtangis hadn’t started their Mysore pactice. Very odd I thought, they’re usually half way through standing poses by now…???...they all seemed to be killing time, laying on their backs, sitting in lotus, doing slow motion stretching, chatting a little.
I waited for a bit, hoping someone would start their Surya Namaskars, but it didn’t happen. I stretched more...waited...ran out of stretching moves...sat still...and waited, with no idea what we were all waiting for.
I’d so wanted to do a Mysore practice at the shala this morning (the full Monty, complete with the opening chant, the heat, the music, the adjustments, the dropbacks, the lock in to no slacking off).
But I picked the wrong day.
Instead of Mysore practice, David had decided on a sort of led research practice. We used blocks, bolsters and straps to explore the theme of the day – the thighbones – through some classical poses (Baddha Konasana, Paschimottanasana, Supta Virasana, Upavista Konasana) and some slow motion movements in unconventional positions.
I tried really hard to follow, to understand, to transfer his instructions to my muscles and bones, (I really did) but had quite a bit of difficulty connecting into what he was trying to convey.
I came out of the class feeling a bit heavy, like I hadn’t done a physical yoga practice at all, so it was doubly disappointing that I couldn’t grasp today’s thighbone lesson as compensation.
I’m not sure how often David does this kind of class. It’s a really good way of breaking us out of our well worn practice habits, by hammering one particular point, bringing attention and awareness to how one particular part of the anatomy moves and responds, exploring that one point in a number of poses and positions. After an hour and a half of focussing on how to move the thighbones, it should have sunk into my somatic memory forever and be accessible in practice from that day forward. But alas I never quite got it.
Maybe the penny will drop unexpectedly in practice.
Ashtanga Triviality
I flicked through the copy of John Scott’s Ashtanga Yoga book which came back to me after a year of being lent out, and I learned something surprising - but be warned, you won't read anything more embarrassingly trivial than this...
According to John Scott’s technique, in Surja Namaskar B, after inhaling into Upward Dog, you should exhale to the Dog Pose position, then begin the inhale while stepping the foot forward and lifting the arms up to Virabhadrasana A.
After nearly 3 years of Ashtanga practice, I’ve been doing it wrong.
After the inhale into Upward Dog, I’ve been exhaling back to Dog Pose AND stepping my foot forward to the lunge position. From the lunge I then begin the inhalation to raise my arms up to Virabhadrasana A.
Was I taught it this way to start off with? Or did I just always do it my way and no-one noticed or corrected me? Or maybe it's not wrong at all, just different? Is there only one way? Really it's a minor point in the bigger scheme of things, so I don’t know why I’m making such a deal about it. Guess it shows up the introverted dristi I have right now if I can get obsessed about one breath.
The John Scott way makes sense from a timing perspective because the breath:movement ratio is spaced out more evenly through the movements. But I still wonder about it. Stepping the foot forward from Dog Pose is a closing movement because the thigh is drawn into the abdomen; and when you make movements that close or contract the abdominal area in yoga it feels more natural to exhale.
Perhaps I’ll ask David at class next week before I eat humble pie and teach it correctly to all of MY students.
If anyone can shed light on this ridiculously trivial point, drop me an email.
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