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.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
