Beginning Again

This academic year, I opted to do only the intermediate classes thinking that perhaps I ought to get out of the familiar comfort of attending a beginner’s class as well. But, I found myself in one again, quite unexpectedly. This time as a demonstrator. It was a trip down nostalgia lane as I listened to all the questions at the end of the session. I remembered my eagerness and the questions I had but never dared voice. The students in these classes are brave, asking the very same things I was too shy to ask. I smile inside thinking about the thirst to know and the need to know if my asanas were the way they were meant to be. I wanted validation then, I wanted to be the best student in the hall. Looking back, there is a fondness for that enthusiastic student quite like how I feel about my children when they were younger.  

The intermediate classes have been cranked up a bit unlike last year when the online medium was still new and there was hope of it being a temporary arrangement for a year or so but this time around, online classes have become more established. I wonder if this mode of instruction will continue once things stabilize and it is possible to have classes in person. It is hard to think of Iyengar yoga and not feel its nature of touch, hard wooden props in the big hall, the buzz of conversation etc. Earlier in the day, I found myself thinking of how rich my time in the therapy classes was. I thought I was observing, what was happening was really an absorption more than just noticing. I remembered two cases in particular and it prodded some additional reading.

While making notes today, it was interesting to think about the Kurmasana that was covered last evening, quite by chance. It was an option among other asanas that we could do. I think part of the reason for choosing it was Speedy. Speedy is a rescued turtle who has been with a friend and is currently with me. It is lovely to see him enjoy basking in the sun, he looks quite sphinx like with his pose. At such times, his reptilian stance reminds me of Bhujangasana. And at others, he can withdraw so completely inwards that there is nothing but a shell visible. While Speedy is a little unusual (he moves incredibly fast for a turtle), he has the capacity like others of his species to remain without agitation. Animals teach us much, little wonder that they figure in the names of so many asanas. Garudasana, Salabhasana,  Adho Mukha Svanasana, Bakasana, etc.

So much is packed in a name.

Reflection on Yama

A conversation earlier in the day made me think of how the foremost precept in medicine or yoga is ‘Do no harm’. It also ties in with the first of the great vows.

I finished reading the yamas in the book (Ashtanga Yoga of Patanjali) and have been reflecting on their mahavrata nature. It has been some time since I sat with different sets of contemplation, like vrittis or kleshas etc. Coming around to it now, it strikes me how different this reading has been. Repetition and a consciousness of these ideas have seeped through the mind over the years and let understanding evolve differently- almost as a gentle undercurrent, not seen but felt both deeper and wider. Moral dilemmas and ethical concerns now start to be examined with consideration and not in absolute terms. There is clarity at the existing level while also a consciousness of a subtler layer that would need a different application. 

Yamas are commonly regarded as restraints, injunctions or observances. But the sutra says these are ‘sarvabhauma mahavratam’, universal great vows. Implicit in its resounding sureness is its absolute nature, the highest standard. In the order of the sutras, yama and niyama are placed before asana and pranayama, yet we always begin at asana. We begin where we are, how we are. It doesn’t matter if one is returning after a long gap or is a complete novice. It has been one of the most beautiful aspects of yoga and Iyengar yoga in particular. It reminds me of artists who painstakingly create sand sculptures on a beach, fully aware that a wave will wash over it and there will be nothing left. What if we could be both artist and sculpture, fully devoted to making our lives as beautiful in a spirit of service with the full awareness of our transience? What if we could truly embrace aparigraha? This last one has caught my attention this time as the book invites considering why the phala of this particular yama is a knowledge of one’s past and future lives.

In one of his classes last week, Prashantji mentioned that “the embodiment is like a text book” and that like textbooks which are read repeatedly, one needs to learn to read one’s own embodiment. The yamas speak differently now, a little less rigidly despite their almost thunderous injunction of non-negotiability. If there is one thing this pandemic has taught us, it has been that we never know another completely and so do not have the context of their choices. 

These have been days of reflection, mulling over the question of how best do I apply the principles of ahimsa, satya, asteya, brahmacharya and aparigraha in my life. There are no easy answers for the likes of me, caught in the spin of everyday living. At best, it is a thin watered down version of what Sage Patanjali might have had in mind. The more I read, the more I realize how woefully insufficient it is to rely on translations alone. One needs to understand the language in which it was written, the health of our embodiments before considering yog. No wonder the need for the trifecta of treatises on grammar, medicine and yoga. No wonder the need to invoke samarthyam like Srineet mentioned in one of his classes. Ability and a worthiness, both of which the likes of us have to develop over a long, uninterrupted abhyas. Sometimes, it does feel like seeing through a kaleidoscope, the tumble of pieces throwing a different kind of connective pattern every single time.

Endless the possibilities.