Synesthesia of learning?

I find that in self-study of any sort, not just asana, the process of learning is largely invisible and in small packets spread over a period of time and across different spaces of our lives. They remain scattered until the body and mind are prepared to synthesize all of it into an organic whole.

The month of May threw up small pieces that spoke of space and harmony. One of the first was an article in the Yoga Rahasya on Symmetry and Space (Vol. 24, No.4 , 2017). Another was the view from my balcony floor while lying down and looking at the sky. Yet another was the toiling that happened on my mat and the reading that would come after. A large chunk also lay in the outdoors with the trees, stones, birds, flowers and so on and an interesting bit was in a colouring sheet my daughter made me fill up.

Last evening, towards the end of my practice, I came to Karnapidasana and it was a whole different experience. I tend to be wary of the pose because of pressure on the neck. Last night though, the pose was effortless and I experienced a shutting down of the ears and an opening of my eyes. Not like the opening of the eyes in backbends but almost as though there was an inner set of eyes that opened. A seeing without seeing and time didn’t exist. Maybe that’s what made it feel like I could stay in the pose forever. Despite the compressed nature of the asana, it didn’t feel that way at all.

After practice, I looked the asana up in books and on the internet to see if there was anything other than the technique or benefits of the asana. Geetaji’s Gem For Women mentions that it makes one turn inward but beyond that I wasn’t able to find anything. But, the pose caught my attention for its association with the ear, the word ‘pida’ and the theme of space which was running through the days. And this morning, I worked with a slightly different set of asanas before attempting Karnapidasana again. This time there was resistance. I was trying to replicate yesterday’s lesson without being open to what today wanted to teach.

The sensation yesterday reminded me of an experience a few years ago when I saw sound, not the form of it. Synesthesia, a fleeting experience in savasana. I wonder what is the connection between the ears and eyes? Is there one or am I imagining it? Is it stubbornness to want to connect the dots that appear through moments in life and make sense? I don’t know. But the theme of space and all the words that tie in with space, be it sound or silence have been cropping everywhere. In asana, we are taught to create space in the body. The skies rest in space, the stars and the moon too. It has been contemplative sorts of days lately, one of being brutally honest with myself, breaking patterns, facing fears. This is different compared to earlier when the process worked from body to mind a few months ago.

Sharing a few lines from the same Yoga Rahasya mentioned earlier

With asanas come penetration

With penetration comes sensitivity

With sensitivity comes intelligence

With intelligence comes wisdom

With wisdom comes harmony

With harmony comes stillness.

Destruction

If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you would’ve been privy to the months of a dark night of the soul. I was incapable of maintaining any but the bare minimum to get through my days. While I anticipated a rough ride, nothing could have prepared me for the enormity of grief. Mostly, it sprung from a deep sense of loss. Over time, we become attached to our habits, people, places until they become dead weight. But by then, we’ve invested too much time, effort and ourselves to be able to hit the reset button. So, we carry on, accumulating diseases of the body, mind and heart until it chokes us.

We are taught to create, grow, sustain but never how to destroy. And that too is an essential part of the cycle of life. Birth, growth, decay, death and rebirth. We see it in nature, in the way seasons die out to receive the next one, in the way day ends in night, in the way the hunted becomes food for the predator and so on. But we live our human lives averse to the creative potential of destruction. We embrace the joyful and exciting but not the pain and despair but that too is such an essential part of being human, the capacity to embrace pain as we do pleasure.

I see a mirror in the current pandemic, the laying waste of a way of life, flawed though it be. Much pain, horror, hardship, death and desolation cutting across geographies and people. These are difficult times, no doubt, but I also believe in the resilience of our species which will pick up the pieces and rebuild. In the course of volunteering as well as in my work, I hear experts talk about various future scenarios, usually through the lens of their specific domains. While there’s a great deal of information available and conversation that happens on current issues, truth is no one really knows and we have an inbuilt fear of uncertainty. In Light on Life, Guruji mentions, “learning to live with uncertainty is the great art of living” and that couldn’t be more apt in these times of anxiety and fear.

In such a world, how does yoga help? I can only speak for myself when I say it keeps my life in the right proportion. Yoga practice becomes the Serenity Prayer in action. On the mat, my presence remains confined to the time spent on it, working with acceptance, change and discrimination. As my body takes the forms of poses, I find a suspension of my roles and concerns of the world at large and the attempt to find integration of mind, body and breath.  Later, I think about how can one bring that same cohesion to our individual problems and collective ones? And I find myself drifting back to my favourite sutra, 1.33, as the healing a wounded species so desperately needs.

Yog Sutra 1.33 – “Through cultivation of friendliness, compassion, joy, and indifference to pleasure and pain, virtue and vice respectively, the consciousness becomes favourably disposed, serene and benevolent.” – Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali by B K S Iyengar

 

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and in the midst of all else in the world, there is a riot of summer flowers…

Paschimottanasana Study

The prashnayantra prompt today suggested paschimottanasana and that became my exploration for practice. It’s been a mildly restless few days of the head and heart and the pose seemed just right to bring calm and energy. So, it progressed to be a meditation on the mat for the next hour or so. Thanks to youtube, I listened to Geetaji’s instructions as well as Guruji’s and it was a much quieter pose than usual. Less tug of war between the body and mind. As a practice session, I was looking at learning and so, it was about finding actions that happened automatically and how to bring restraint in them. Many repeats. Some propping with a rope and belt. And staying for a little more than usual.

Later, I looked up the pose in Light on Yoga and Yoga – A Gem for Women as also some notes I had saved to refresh my memory. The physical benefits were to do with resting the heart and improving blood supply to the organs in the abdominal and pelvic regions. It is said to bring vitality and a balanced outlook towards sex. The asana also goes by the names Brahmacharyasana and Ugrasana, connoting self-restraint and power. I find that names of asanas are a good way to carry forward contemplating their qualities beyond the mat.

Guruji says, “A good stay in this pose massages the heart, the spinal column and the abdominal organs which feel refreshed and the mind is rested.” It is interesting how this pose covers the triad of emotional, intellectual and digestive aspects of the body which are responsible for good health and vigour and as a result confers a rested mind and refreshed body.

Geetaji’s book recalls the Hatha Yoga Pradipika 1.29, “Paschimottanasana is the foremost of all asanas. Its effect is that the life force flows through the very intricate channels called nadis, gastric fire is kindled and the stomach becomes free of all diseases.”

She goes on to say that the effect of this asana on the mind is magical: an upset, irritated, and restless mind becomes tranquil, and angry, passionate moods etc. are calmed down. It sharpens memory and brings clarity of thought. The latter qualities are essential for studentship and found resonance with my morning reading* which explored the qualities of a student – self-control in outward life and calmness in inner living.

During the course of the day, I watched a short film on a prolific Indian photographer, Raghu Rai. His pictures are incredibly evocative and have the same quality of stillness and dynamism of Guruji’s poses. The overriding sense I got was his pictures were really a drawing in of his lens into himself before releasing it. A complete presence. In the photographer’s words, ‘dekhna is darshana’ (to see is to have darshan) and I saw yoga in his living craft. I suppose when one brings that spirit of enquiry to one’s subject of study, there is also a certain prolificacy.

The day has come to an end and I find that I wasn’t restless today and my mind was calm. Overall, there was a very quiet sense of detachment in its hours, a lightness of being.

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Paschimottanasana WIP

*Taittiriya Upanishad Ch 1, Section 4

Bridge over troubled times

2019 is long over but the calendar from last year still hangs where I see it up close. My eyes stray to it multiple times in the course of the day and as the month progresses, my viewing also gets adjusted. It inspires enquiry and experimentation. Often, more questions are raised than discovering of answers. I suppose that is the process of svadhyaya.

Somehow, seeing the asana everyday makes it seep into its practice too. I find myself cueing what I observe. It’s a different learning in the absence of a class. No oral instructions, just watching a still image and finding out for oneself. On one of my other blogs, someone mentioned the word tattolna and it probably explains this seeking. An exploration, a seeking , a searching for oneself.

Before Vipareeta Dandasana became my favourite pose, Setu Bandha Sarvangasana held that place. Of course, not very yogic in being attached to an asana but then I’m not a yogi :). It would be the one I chose when given an option between any of the cooling inversions. Almost always, propped. Besides the bolster, brick, bench versions, there was one with the bench and a large square cushion which was a completely different experience. I learned to fill my breath in that one with P. She would ask me to reach her palm with my sternum as I inhaled and eventually, my sunken despairing heart began to open.

Setu Bandha Sarvangasana is often called Bridge pose but Light on Yoga mentions it as construction of bridge pose. It implies a movement. Classically entered from Sarvangasana, it makes sense. It also goes by Uttana Mayurasana or stretched peacock. In either name, there is an implied movement of stretching. One of the insistent images is that of the bridge to Lanka in the Ramayana and Hanuman’s leap across the sea. Intense and stretched.

Today, I took a picture of myself in the pose to share with a friend who was trying it as well. Later, I placed it alongside Guruji’s image from the calendar and saw an entire universe of a difference. It’s a good way to see and correct when there is no teacher to walk one through the finer details.

The world outside spins in lockdown which will continue for the next two weeks. We’ve been in this state for long enough to have it become the new normal. Post lockdown, whenever that happens, I still see myself living this kind of a life for the foreseeable future. Except for the financial implications of work, this minimal way of life has been one of a rich inner landscape. I avoid the news and check on updates every couple of days. Instead, there is much watching the skies, doing whatever little I can at work and volunteering. Meals are simple and readings are varied books. There is also a lavishing of time on my craft and I try to put something as an offering as often as I can. While the current state of the planet is one of fear and isolation, there is acceptance and a continuation of doing whatever one can. And that helps keep my world on an even keel. Eventually, this too will be in the past and the bridge would be complete.

Last month’s thought was ‘Yoga is equanimity’ and it has been an endeavour to keep that idea through the month. May says, ‘Yoga is harmony’ to the accompaniment of Setu Bandha Sarvangasana so that is the meditation through this month. Last year Pavithra mentioned that she had done this as an exercise and I thought it was a beautiful way of keeping yoga alive through the day. So an attempt even if the calendar be one year old.

The song of the mountain

Tadasana is the first asana in the repertoire of yogasanas. Deceptively simple looking and often glossed over as an opening pose, the mountain pose does not have the glamour of backbends or the elegance of forward extensions. Yet, it has been a fascinating study for me since I began my journey in yoga. Every time, I spend a significant amount of time in the asana at a stretch, it reveals more of its wakefulness.

A couple of nights ago, I listened to a lovely concert, Songs of the Himalayas. It was inspired by the composer’s trek in the mountains and the stories he collected along the way, mostly of the simplicity and wisdom of its people. The musicians were brilliant and it was altogether a lovely immersive meditation of sorts. This morning my practice revolved around tadasana and I was reminded of the motif of the mountains. A mountain stands, it breathes, it is alive. Perhaps, not in the sense that we are taught to look at it as rock and soil but as part of a cosmos that we still don’t fully comprehend.

Our bodies are said to be a microcosm of the macrocosm and it makes sense from a yogic lens. The elemental nature of the body and mind mimics what is outside of us too. Mountains are usually elder structures, old ascensions into the heavens and have their unique shapes, structures and peculiarities. When stable, they remain standing without any change for years. Their shifts happen with a shift in energies of the earth. Perhaps the imagery of a volcano can represent the flow of energy of its structre, Of course, it is uncontrolled in an eruption but controlled in asana.

Geetaji talks about the adho mukhi and urdhva mukhi nature of energy flows, the downward and upward flow of energy. While I’ve experienced that in different asanas to different degrees, today I found myself studying it from the point of view of a mountain to understand how it works within the confines of my mind and body. While the essence of a mountain remains elevation, there is also the corresponding descent of its outer slopes. If the inner lift happens against gravity, the outer relaxation happens with it.

Tadasana instructions are usually staccato like in their delivery.

Feet together. Suck the knee caps up. Tuck the stomach in, buttocks in. Roll the shoulders behind and down, hand extending downwards. Become tall.

As one progresses in practice, there are nuances added and these can go really deep. The only thing that becomes apparent as I spend more time in this pose is that vast tracts of body and mind remain out of reach. On the outside the asanas are better looking but internally, there are deserts of silence. It’s a slow progression, or perhaps a progressing slowly as physical prowess gives way to a more detached viewing. One of curiosity and experimentation.

One of my teachers used to say if there is only one asana that you can perfect, let it be tadasana and I am beginning to see why. Often, the pose is used as an analogy for the sthirtha or steadiness required in any other asana. Over time, I have seen how arm work brings better leg stability and today was a learning in how the inner arm can bring the quietness of the outer leg. Result was strength and lightness in arms and a grounding so solid of the soles. Tadasana is really a whole body scan.

Home practice has been good but today, I missed my teacher and wished I could hear her clear voice and laughter. I missed helping out in the medical classes, I missed working in the library and I missed the fledgling sense of community I had begun to experience at the institute. While the lock down has been a period of acceptance with a fairly balanced head and heart, the prospect of an extended one has found me yearning for beloved RIMYI. Deeply.

Pictures taken before lock down – the windows in the first image are ones I’ve looked out of many times and the RIMYI library is a favourite place. It’s probably where I’d be headed out to first when we are allowed to move out. 

Inverted Introverted

Inversions and backbends changed my life. I might even dare to say that they transformed my living. These two groups of asanas were pretty much the only ones I worked with a few months ago and eventually there was a reset that happened in my head and heart. Initially I thought it was a probably a short lived effect that would wear off as therapy classes came to an end and a couple of regular ones took its place but so far, it’s been a daily reset, a blank slate every day.

Being upside down and bending backward so far that I couldn’t help but surrender to the unknown bestowed gifts of vulnerability without fear, a wide open heart and joy. These days, Sirsasana and Sarvangasana are usually the twin heartbeats of my home practice. They can be playful too like when I stand on my head on a work call. It felt like I was channeling Mr. Menuhin who conducted Beethoven’s 5th in Sirsasana. 🙂

About Sirsasana, Guruji writes, “Regular and precise practice of Sirsasana develops the body, disciplines the mind and widens the horizons of the spirit. One becomes balanced and self-reliant in pain and pleasure, loss and gain, shame and fame and defeat and victory.”
And about Sarvangasana, he says, “It is no over-statement to say that if a person regularly practises Sarvangasana he will feel new vigour and strength, and will be happy and confident. New life will flow into him, his mind will be at peace and he will feel the joy of life.”

Most days I practise in the mornings. It usually begins with a rope Adho Mukha Svanasana and then moves on to whatever might be the areas I want to explore. Sometimes it is just maintenance of movement and at others it is about control. At still other times it is to study connections between distant parts of the body. I’m not sure if I am imagining these call and response sort of actions or if they are real but I observe them as they arise and trust the process of svadhyaya to reveal the answers.

Learning to come down from Sirsasana with both legs

The last few days were about sweat. Sirsasana usually feels the tiniest bit lopsided and I’ve noticed that the sweating would be predominantly on one side of the head and neck. Lately, it seems more evenly distributed. The pose feels stable too at multiple levels. In addition to asana practice, I’ve also been dabbling in a little bit of prep work for handstands which has probably helped in stronger shoulders and better access. This too is a change, to experiment with other ways and methods.

Many years ago, I didn’t think that I could ever do a headstand due to cervical spondylosis. But five years later, it is a regular asana. Backbends seemed impossible, some of them still do but there is enough sureness about the ‘atha’ of practice. This yoga journey has been slow, asana proficiency and ability slower but what has emerged from all of it has been an increased sense of the first sutra. Maybe that is what gives stability and dynamism to accept and continue a changed way of life in these uncertain times of a pandemic. I may or may not be able to do a Mandalasana but the effort on my mat today is all that matters. And if experience is any indicator, the pose happens eventually when you are not actively seeking it.

Over the past few weeks of lockdown I can see progress by virtue of a regular practice. There are tentative forays into drop-backs that are encouraging. The beauty of Iyengar yoga is how the learnings become available to you in a drip fashion, sometimes years after first encountering them. I do miss the exhilaration of a taught class but this is a different flavour of learning. I guess all the classes we’ve had so far helped to get us to this point where even if we never got to attend a class, we can continue our studies in a deep way. And maybe that is the way we are meant to learn, heuristically. Why practice? At a very gross level, it keeps my body machinery in working order. More importantly, it provides equanimity.

There is a lovely image of Guruji holding Abhijata’s knees in Dwipada Vipareeta Dandasana with the caption, Yoga is equanimity in last year’s calendar. It is a pose that has seen me heave sobs and also filled me with light. These days, it is usually unsupported or with the wall to learn how to lift. Mostly, the yogi’s prostration has kept the slate clean for this sadhaka allowing her the ability to see the humour of her follies and acknowledge small victories with the same welcome. It is a beloved asana, one that brings the best of inversions and backbends in one energizing and calming pose.

In my readings, I recently finished the Aitareya Upanishad once again and it was a fresh seeing of the text. The subject matter of the text is creation and as always, the lyricism in it is magical. The Upanishadic delivery is one of love between teacher and taught, intimacy and spontaneity, stability and dynamism. Not too different from Iyengar yoga. Many students bristle at the no-nonsense and strict delivery of teaching. As for me, I’ve only ever seen their compassion and love. I can still hear their clear voices and laughter when I am on my mat.

We are fairly resilient as a species, innovative as well. And this Covid-19 pandemic will pass one day like the ones before. Nothing lasts forever- not happiness, not sorrow, not even life. I suppose at the end of the day what matters is endeavour, regardless of the fruit of labour.

Sometimes it is difficult to muster up the will to do anything at all. I have been in that place too and had to learn to ask for help. And that made all the difference. Giving help is much easier but one does a disservice by not asking for it, to oneself as well as the giver. A few months go, a real estate agent told me that it was important to receive as much as it was to give. I didn’t end up needing his services and now feel that the encounter was just to hear a lesson I had to learn.

Master class with Geetaji

In this new world order of physical distancing, a home practice brings more than just a sense of physical well being, it gifts the philosophy of yog as a guide to navigate a new normal. At the moment, the world is practicing social distancing, a self-imposed isolation to check and slow the spread of a pandemic. Time on the mat is also like that, a retreat into the body and mind to check and slow the fluctuations of the vrittis.

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Just my trusty old mat and me

Practice at home has mostly been the usual set of asanas with plenty of propping but today was a master class with Geetaji that did not use any props. Seated asanas, seated twists, standing poses and standing twists wrapped up with a Setuband Sarvangasana (this one was propped, 2 bricks for me). It was working with just the foundational Dandasana, Tadasana and Uthita Hasta Padasana but with detailed actions across the entire body. I haven’t used this video in at least a couple of years or more since the knee injury.

The tasting of this lesson was different at many levels. On one hand, there was better understanding of how to interpret and adjust instructions to safeguard my knee and work with my alignment issues. On the other, there was greater access to hitherto inaccessible areas. Perhaps it is greater mobility and strength in the spine thanks to deep backbends that conditioned it. It was also interesting to see how she taught, both in an instructional manner as well as in the form of an invitation to learn independently. Often, one gets instructions not teaching.

As a novice student, I struggled when a neighbourhood teacher would say, bring your front thighs back. Fast forward a few years and one finds that there is a natural progression to working less aggressively and with more compassion. Actions are subtler and have a quality of integration across the planes of the body. Asanas that seemed wildly impossible have effortlessly made their way into a regular practice. Of course, it still is a struggle with Trikonasana but the nature of the struggle has changed. The me from 5 years ago would have imagined today’s Trikonasana to be impossible while today’s me can see how much is still thick and dull. Always a work in progress. If you’re struggling as a new practitioner, I’d only say, show up and do whatever you can, eventually the tree takes root. Like one of my teachers would say, if you can’t do a full practice, just do one Adho Mukha Svanasana for 1 minute everyday.

The highlight today was beloved Tadasana and the incredible lift of the arches and that imprint stayed long after I got off the mat. Some gems that exploded into awareness today were the experience of standing on the metatarsals, the crown of the big toes and the power of the hips to bring steady balance in the Parivritta movements. The nemesis pose was Supta Tadasana, the floor does not lie about unevenness. 🙂

Thanks to technology, Geetaji’s keen knowledge and experience resound much beyond her life and allow us to have a glimpse of the ocean that is yog.

Yoga in times of Corona

It’s been a while since I posted here and much has changed in the world. In the little corner of the world I call home, school children remain out of school, streets are deserted and life is at a standstill. Yesterday was a day-long curfew and all we heard was birdsong. It might seem like an idyllic summer holiday but times are scary. While the official numbers seem tiny, reality is that we are a country of over a billion people and there is nothing to do but brace for impact. The aftermath is something one doesn’t even want to consider.

Classes came to a halt, work too and even the solitary volunteer work in an empty building had to be abandoned. Through all this, there has been an increased sense of urgency to find my practice. The silver lining in all the uncertainty has been leisurely hours on the mat, sometimes twice a day to play, study, work and watch. It’s still very much grunt work considering that it’s only been a few months since a regular class. And the quirks of a not so young body mean listening to it and modifying as one goes. Do I miss class? Yes. But there’s a difference now, the dependence on the place is not there.

Yoga has given me the confidence and wings to be able to continue learning even in the absence of the beloved institute and teachers. I feel like a bird that has been pushed out of the nest and discovered that it knows to fly. And that is a freedom. I’ll always be a student but now I also feel like I’ve moved grades. Today, my teacher texted me something about myself and the reply I got was, “glad with your response”. In the reticent world of Iyengar yoga especially at the institute, it is unusual to receive such. While it feels good, I also accept it without having to give it the place of validation. I’m glad for the detachment of the teachers that keeps one striving.

In textual study, I’ve been on Chapter 15 of the Gita and I’m still circling the first 4 verses with its imagery of the ASHWATTHA tree, reminiscent of the Kathopanishad mantra (Section 6, Mantra 1). Somehow, as always, whenever attention has been drawn to a shloka, relevant pieces appear along the way. In this case, a recent read by an environmentalist (Hinduism and Nature by Nanditha Krishna) who has provided some references to the same tree. I also encountered a sapling planted on the trails I would frequent. An old couple that walks their gorgeous dogs nurture that young plant.

Part of the commentary by Swami Chinmayananda brings alive the imagery beautifully.

The subtle Principle of Life manifests through us, in different planes and in a variety of forms – as perceptions of the body; as emotions and feelings of the mind, as ideals and thoughts of the intellect; and as mere non-apprehension of the causal-body All these vehicles and their experiences, manifesting in the Infinite Life, in their totality, constitute the Ashwattha tree spreading out into all quarters.

In the context of our times, our entire planet is like one giant Ashwattha tree and the detachment the Blue God calls for may only be the way through.

 

Coming home

The days are flying and it is all I can manage to make notes and notations before moving on to the next thing on my plate. It’s a full plate and I am grateful for a spectrum of life situations, quite like a thaali, a multi course Indian meal which includes the 6 tastes. Most regions in the country have their versions. Traditionally, these different food items would be served and consumed in a particular order but those practices are mostly lost now. There is always space on the plate for sweet, sour, salty, pungent, astringent and bitter. Life dishes out experiences similarly except that there is no fixed interval or order or volume.

Special days at RIMYI see this lovely statue with a beautiful garland.

In the midst of all these different tastes of life, I had a special one today. The taste of coming home.
It began slowly and without my being very aware of it, the ‘hellos‘ and the ‘how are yous‘ or the odd conversation after class. And then a few weeks ago, thanks to the prodding of a few practitioners, I volunteered to share my experience at the annual day function. Perhaps, it was the brilliant backbends class that day which made me bold to take a step like that. Long story short, I read my piece today, not quite trusting myself to look up and speak.

Later this evening, one of my teachers remarked how important it was for us to tell our stories. Many people go through difficult times alone when they don’t need to. In my head, I’ve always felt that my story wasn’t story enough or my experience sufficient to speak. Add to that dollops of doubt and the ‘impostor syndrome’ and there was a ready recipe to stay on the fringes forever. That’s where I’ve lived all my life, looking from outside in and struggling alone. Learning to ask for help was the big turning point. It still isn’t natural but there is a shift alright.

It is still baby steps in participating and at the moment, feels very much like magic that I am happy and able to appreciate and relish the gifts of music, the outdoors and human connections. I see my teachers and their lives are inspiring in their dynamism. While their days are poured into yoga, they are also present in their personal lives and have fun doing stuff. As students, we forget that essential part of being human- the ability to have fun and laugh. I didn’t know laughter tasted this good.

In gratitude

Flying shoulder stands and some thoughts

Today’s penultimate pose was a sarvangasana, the lightest, tallest one I have ever inhabited. Our teacher said, fly with your trapezius and we flew. All the ‘shoulder surgery‘ we did in class today made for a sarvangasana that was as wide as it was tall, the trunk felt like an open book. The arms and shoulder promise to make their presence known later but that is sweet pain.

I feel a little out of my depth in the Intermediate class, many of the asanas are a challenge mostly because of the knee. The holds are longer in this class and I still have to attain some strength and endurance. I fall over sometimes and come up sooner. The old tendency to find fault is there but there is a little more patience. It is also fascinating to see how much the body can actually move. In one of the parsva salabhasana variations, my teacher came and pulled my arm so easily and had it cross my back. I struggled with moving it and she made it so long. We have far more in us than we think we have, like in running. This asana learning is an energizing one, continuous and fresh everyday. I attend 2 classes- beginners and intermediate. The experience is so different, one assures that there is some proficiency and the other reminds you that you’re a long ways off. It’s a continuum of being student.

Life off the mat has a different quality now. More clarity, more humour and more acceptance. The inevitable conclusion is joy. Sometimes I wonder if it is a phase, this almost euphoric sense of well-being despite the challenges of living. But, it doesn’t seem that way. Not for now atleast. My eyes are wide open and so is my heart. Setbacks are temporary and experienced in the present and then sent their way.

Yoga and running, both were never quite about the body or fitness for me. Even now, with the struggle of the body, it is really about facing myself, fears, flaws, strengths, potential and being able to see them and know that they have their place. It is about being able to fall flat on my face and being able to laugh about it. I used to take myself too seriously, still do but it’s easier to be around people now. I’ve made new friends and feel like part of the community at the institute.

Evening therapy class was interesting. Raya broke down assisting handstands and rope work. It was interesting to see how each person processed the lessons. Although Iyengar yoga appears to be regimented and rigid in sequencing, I’ve had firsthand experience of not following any of the conventional rules when my teachers would work on me. It is like classical Indian music, once there is a certain maturity, the rules can be bent to suit a conscious purpose. The lovely performances are often improvised but this is mastery level and beyond.

As for me, I found myself wondering what right do I have looking at this when I can’t yet do a handstand by myself. I’m probably the only one in all the helpers/ observers/ teachers who cannot do what I guess are basic requirements for someone to be assisting. Anyways, I listen and observe, knowing that I might not retain much but believe that all that wisdom will come back when I am ready. In the meanwhile, I help where required and that takes me out of my doubt and questioning for that period.