Thursday 24th May 2007
After the opening chant, David playfully described Thursdays as “hump day” for Ashtangis. The shala was only half full so I guess for those dedicated souls who practice 5-6 days a week, Day 5 is the most difficult one to face, sort of the final push to get to the apex. Day 6 is a breeze – in traditional Ashtanga practice which most shalas observe, Friday is always a led Primary class which feels like playday. Having rarely managed a 6 day practice week, I’m unqualified to even consider bumping up against the Thursday “hump day”. Most days are hump-days for me.
When I used to do the 5-day workshops with Glenn Ceresoli, it was Day 3 that always humped me. Sometimes it was so humpy that I couldn’t even rouse myself into going, but after Day 3 it was like I’d been reprogrammed, and getting up for daily yoga was not only a joy, but it became an accepted and integrated part of the day instead of a novelty.
Today’s practice started out OK but the initial bubbles fizzled out midway through the seated poses. Funny that…it seems to happen when the quality of energy is only superficial, it’s deceptive, it feels effervescent and light to start off with but isn’t sustainable for an entire practice unless it changes and deepens.
I came to a complete standstill at Navasana and just couldn’t drum up the will or intention to go on so I did one halfhearted backbend then the finishing sequence. I must from now on remember to lay my mat down at the door end rather than the front end of the shala, which is where the VERY LOUD breathing/moaning/grunting girl practices. She’s a beautiful blonde and an even more beautiful person, but she has quite a unique sound effects system installed in her hard drive that really should be on mute or at least turned down. When her breath gets going, it echoes through the shala like a tornado in a wind tunnell which is pretty amazing really. But she can be in the most unassuming pose like Parsvottanasana and let go of an enormous groan. Practising right next to her todya I just couldn't keep it all together.
So that means I’ve now chalked up two black marks on my shala practice record, stopping at Navasana twice in two weeks Given that I’m in a rebuilding phase and my energy’s still weakened from injury, I’m delighted simply to be practising once again. Five morning practices (out of seven days) this week is pretty outstanding even if two were a little stunted.
I was blessed with Teacher Attention in only one pose today – Marichyasana B. It wasn’t a good choice for adjusting because my sprained ankle makes Ardha Padmasana on one side almost impossible. The first side of Marichy B is the easy one for me, well I thought it was until Teacher showed me where my body parts weren’t working. He spent some time trying to encourage my front hips to roll inwards (is that anatomically possible?). I can understand in theory how this would help open up my concreted lower back, but in practice, as his hands tried to sculpt the action around my hips, none of my muscles were assisting him. Alas t’was all in vain.
Then again at the end of practice, as I was preparing my injured ankle for the Padmasana pose, Teacher came up and asked me to roll over into a Halasana position with my right leg in Ardha Padmasana (this is the one with the sprained ankle). Once there, I was supposed to reach my right hand behind my back and grab the right foot. That would have put me in an upside down Ardha Baddha Padma Paschimottanasana which is a seated pose I love, but my hand didn’t get anywhere near my foot doing it laying on my back. I think when in the seated version, you can twist the upper body a lot to reach the hand around your back and grab the foot before straightening up to go forward over the extended leg. But when you’re laying on your back you can’t twist (cheat) at all. So my hand was flailing behind my back looking for a far off toe while I was trying to implement the instruction to draw the front hips inwards (again no muscular response). My brain fuzzed out trying to cope with TWO challenges at one time and my body responded by dumping another layer of concrete into my lower back.
Isn’t there a passive pose I could just lay in for an hour or so that would help release and open up my lower back. One where I don’t have to think, or fight through all the resistance I encounter in that part of my anatomy. One where I could just lay there and let the magic happen. Kosta suggested Ardha Halasana on a chair in the evenings so maybe I’ll try that. In fact maybe I’ll start indulging in some of that passive evening yoga now that my workload has eased a little.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 21st May 2007
Jumping into Janu B
Nothing exceptional to note from today’s practice at the shala except I did dropbacks (assisted) for the first time in many, many months – or has it been years – sure felt like it as I stood there in front of the Teacher, waiting for a miracle to raise my arms, ground my legs and lift my heart up and over that hurdle. Apart from that it was just a quietly steady practice from beginning to end.
A moment of wandering drishti towards the end of my practice gave me some food for thought today. I noticed David instructing the bearded man opposite me in how to correctly jump straight from Dog Pose and land with the foot under the buttock for Janu Sirsasana B. The man could hardly believe it was humanly possible. I think he’s only just been given Janu B so he’ll be working on that challenge for a while.
But what bothers me a little is that I’ve been doing this practice under the eyes of David and Simi for three years now and neither of them have ever told me to jump straight into Janu Sirsasana B like that. It’s not that I haven’t seen it done properly, or didn’t know I should be entering it that way, it’s just that I’ve never attempted to do it. I’ve always jumped through to Dandasana first THEN bent up the leg, THEN shimmied by butt up and onto the foot, THEN reached for the other foot, THEN moved into the full pose. Neither of my teachers have picked me up on this or taken the time to show me how to do it correctly. Why is that? Maybe there’s nothing to it. Maybe I just need to try it a couple of times and it will come. If I can jump straight into Tiriang position, I should be able to do it. I apologise to my teachers. It is my shortcoming. And now I shall work on this.
I guess my little self-centred whinge is that I’ve always felt like a ring in at the shala, having come to Ashtanga as a fairly advanced yoga practitioner and not as a complete beginner. I was allowed to do all of Primary series right from the first day and didn’t have to come up through the ranks of being given and taught the poses one by one. And over the years my teachers haven’t been too bothered about correcting little anomalies in my practice, like jumping straight into the Janu Sirsasanas. Have they not noticed, or have they unfairly put me into that ‘other’ category of students, those people who drop in for a sweaty workout now and then, the part timers who aren’t worthy of receiving the teacher’s loving but stricter guidance in the details of a correct practice.
So you can imagine how absolutely delighted I was when Teacher picked me up on a different error this morning. I’ve always held the first part of Ubhaya Padangusthasana (the Halasana lookalike) for 5 breaths before rolling up into the balancing position for another 5 breaths. Today Teacher saw this and said “one breath only there”. My heart leaped for joy. All these years of practice and I didn’t actually know that. Now I do, so I’m a smidgeon closer to doing this practice absolutely correctly, by the book, by the true vinyasa count. The time has come to work on and perfect all those miniscule finer points like correct lift-up-and-jump-backs, like rolling up perfectly to Kukkutasana, like jumping straight into Bhujapidasana instead of wrigging into it, like coming up from the forward bending Supta Konasana into the balance without letting go of the outside of the feet, etc…etc…the list goes on.
Simi corrected my position in Janu Sirsasana B in the Saturday morning class taking my bent knee way, way past 90 degrees and sitting me much more forward on the heel so it rested snugly in the anus. That made for a VERY different experience of the pose, so there’s another challenge to work with. There’s always something else to work on, it’s endless.
The Ashtanga practice is alive in me again and although I’m still working around a weak shoulder, a sprained ankle and a forearm covered with brand new pink baby skin, I’m very excited to be back into it again.
“No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers’ ugly looks.”
As kids, we used to sing this little rhyme on the last day of school while merrily skipping out of the grounds and into the school holidays, our hearts open our souls suddenly set free from the tyrrany of captivity.
And that’s exactly how I feel now that I’ve stopped teaching yoga …free to just be me.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
After the opening chant, David playfully described Thursdays as “hump day” for Ashtangis. The shala was only half full so I guess for those dedicated souls who practice 5-6 days a week, Day 5 is the most difficult one to face, sort of the final push to get to the apex. Day 6 is a breeze – in traditional Ashtanga practice which most shalas observe, Friday is always a led Primary class which feels like playday. Having rarely managed a 6 day practice week, I’m unqualified to even consider bumping up against the Thursday “hump day”. Most days are hump-days for me.
When I used to do the 5-day workshops with Glenn Ceresoli, it was Day 3 that always humped me. Sometimes it was so humpy that I couldn’t even rouse myself into going, but after Day 3 it was like I’d been reprogrammed, and getting up for daily yoga was not only a joy, but it became an accepted and integrated part of the day instead of a novelty.
Today’s practice started out OK but the initial bubbles fizzled out midway through the seated poses. Funny that…it seems to happen when the quality of energy is only superficial, it’s deceptive, it feels effervescent and light to start off with but isn’t sustainable for an entire practice unless it changes and deepens.
I came to a complete standstill at Navasana and just couldn’t drum up the will or intention to go on so I did one halfhearted backbend then the finishing sequence. I must from now on remember to lay my mat down at the door end rather than the front end of the shala, which is where the VERY LOUD breathing/moaning/grunting girl practices. She’s a beautiful blonde and an even more beautiful person, but she has quite a unique sound effects system installed in her hard drive that really should be on mute or at least turned down. When her breath gets going, it echoes through the shala like a tornado in a wind tunnell which is pretty amazing really. But she can be in the most unassuming pose like Parsvottanasana and let go of an enormous groan. Practising right next to her todya I just couldn't keep it all together.
So that means I’ve now chalked up two black marks on my shala practice record, stopping at Navasana twice in two weeks Given that I’m in a rebuilding phase and my energy’s still weakened from injury, I’m delighted simply to be practising once again. Five morning practices (out of seven days) this week is pretty outstanding even if two were a little stunted.
I was blessed with Teacher Attention in only one pose today – Marichyasana B. It wasn’t a good choice for adjusting because my sprained ankle makes Ardha Padmasana on one side almost impossible. The first side of Marichy B is the easy one for me, well I thought it was until Teacher showed me where my body parts weren’t working. He spent some time trying to encourage my front hips to roll inwards (is that anatomically possible?). I can understand in theory how this would help open up my concreted lower back, but in practice, as his hands tried to sculpt the action around my hips, none of my muscles were assisting him. Alas t’was all in vain.
Then again at the end of practice, as I was preparing my injured ankle for the Padmasana pose, Teacher came up and asked me to roll over into a Halasana position with my right leg in Ardha Padmasana (this is the one with the sprained ankle). Once there, I was supposed to reach my right hand behind my back and grab the right foot. That would have put me in an upside down Ardha Baddha Padma Paschimottanasana which is a seated pose I love, but my hand didn’t get anywhere near my foot doing it laying on my back. I think when in the seated version, you can twist the upper body a lot to reach the hand around your back and grab the foot before straightening up to go forward over the extended leg. But when you’re laying on your back you can’t twist (cheat) at all. So my hand was flailing behind my back looking for a far off toe while I was trying to implement the instruction to draw the front hips inwards (again no muscular response). My brain fuzzed out trying to cope with TWO challenges at one time and my body responded by dumping another layer of concrete into my lower back.
Isn’t there a passive pose I could just lay in for an hour or so that would help release and open up my lower back. One where I don’t have to think, or fight through all the resistance I encounter in that part of my anatomy. One where I could just lay there and let the magic happen. Kosta suggested Ardha Halasana on a chair in the evenings so maybe I’ll try that. In fact maybe I’ll start indulging in some of that passive evening yoga now that my workload has eased a little.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 21st May 2007
Jumping into Janu B
Nothing exceptional to note from today’s practice at the shala except I did dropbacks (assisted) for the first time in many, many months – or has it been years – sure felt like it as I stood there in front of the Teacher, waiting for a miracle to raise my arms, ground my legs and lift my heart up and over that hurdle. Apart from that it was just a quietly steady practice from beginning to end.
A moment of wandering drishti towards the end of my practice gave me some food for thought today. I noticed David instructing the bearded man opposite me in how to correctly jump straight from Dog Pose and land with the foot under the buttock for Janu Sirsasana B. The man could hardly believe it was humanly possible. I think he’s only just been given Janu B so he’ll be working on that challenge for a while.
But what bothers me a little is that I’ve been doing this practice under the eyes of David and Simi for three years now and neither of them have ever told me to jump straight into Janu Sirsasana B like that. It’s not that I haven’t seen it done properly, or didn’t know I should be entering it that way, it’s just that I’ve never attempted to do it. I’ve always jumped through to Dandasana first THEN bent up the leg, THEN shimmied by butt up and onto the foot, THEN reached for the other foot, THEN moved into the full pose. Neither of my teachers have picked me up on this or taken the time to show me how to do it correctly. Why is that? Maybe there’s nothing to it. Maybe I just need to try it a couple of times and it will come. If I can jump straight into Tiriang position, I should be able to do it. I apologise to my teachers. It is my shortcoming. And now I shall work on this.
I guess my little self-centred whinge is that I’ve always felt like a ring in at the shala, having come to Ashtanga as a fairly advanced yoga practitioner and not as a complete beginner. I was allowed to do all of Primary series right from the first day and didn’t have to come up through the ranks of being given and taught the poses one by one. And over the years my teachers haven’t been too bothered about correcting little anomalies in my practice, like jumping straight into the Janu Sirsasanas. Have they not noticed, or have they unfairly put me into that ‘other’ category of students, those people who drop in for a sweaty workout now and then, the part timers who aren’t worthy of receiving the teacher’s loving but stricter guidance in the details of a correct practice.
So you can imagine how absolutely delighted I was when Teacher picked me up on a different error this morning. I’ve always held the first part of Ubhaya Padangusthasana (the Halasana lookalike) for 5 breaths before rolling up into the balancing position for another 5 breaths. Today Teacher saw this and said “one breath only there”. My heart leaped for joy. All these years of practice and I didn’t actually know that. Now I do, so I’m a smidgeon closer to doing this practice absolutely correctly, by the book, by the true vinyasa count. The time has come to work on and perfect all those miniscule finer points like correct lift-up-and-jump-backs, like rolling up perfectly to Kukkutasana, like jumping straight into Bhujapidasana instead of wrigging into it, like coming up from the forward bending Supta Konasana into the balance without letting go of the outside of the feet, etc…etc…the list goes on.
Simi corrected my position in Janu Sirsasana B in the Saturday morning class taking my bent knee way, way past 90 degrees and sitting me much more forward on the heel so it rested snugly in the anus. That made for a VERY different experience of the pose, so there’s another challenge to work with. There’s always something else to work on, it’s endless.
The Ashtanga practice is alive in me again and although I’m still working around a weak shoulder, a sprained ankle and a forearm covered with brand new pink baby skin, I’m very excited to be back into it again.
“No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers’ ugly looks.”
As kids, we used to sing this little rhyme on the last day of school while merrily skipping out of the grounds and into the school holidays, our hearts open our souls suddenly set free from the tyrrany of captivity.
And that’s exactly how I feel now that I’ve stopped teaching yoga …free to just be me.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
