Bounty of life

An unexpected rest day that was full of things I love. Saturdays are no class days barring some housekeeping for a couple of online ones early in the morning. The rest of it is quite unstructured in general. But today was a little different. I had two commitments, one was a recce meeting and the other a mentoring one. The recce was outdoors for a tree walk I’d be leading next weekend and the mentoring one was an online monthly one with an enthusiastic and earnest group of 3 young women who run an NGO. The morning meet was supposed to be for an hour but while working out my route, I was engrossed in the wonderful world outside.

A gorgeous white siris

In the afternoon, I headed to the trail for a walk but had to abort midway as it was simply too slippery. But since I was out, it was easy to follow my feet and I wandered into a green compound. A long amble and while walking, bits and pieces of Prashantji’s classes kept coming up to the surface. He talks about education in yoga and listening to him addressing students and teachers on the same theme is like a 360⁰ view and immersion at the same time.
He emphasizes exploration in our study. It got me thinking about how we learn as children, as adults.

My beloved trail

As an amateur naturalist, I observe and am curious. There is no baggage of science when I discover something unknown to me. That comes later. And it struck me that it is a child’s process that I employ. It is fun and there are no expectations. There is a constant rearranging of information that is gathered over the years in the face of something new and my head tries to make accomodate it. It is the same in asana too. Learning and relearning.

Ylang ylang vine

Despite the gravity of the subject, Yoga brings sense of child-like wonder and joy. Practice can be playful as well. I’ve never done asanas outdoors but seeing a big metal barrel in the field this evening, I was reminded of Guruji and draped myself over it. The experience was so different. My hands on the wet mud, the vast world upside down and a sense of ease in that bending into the unknown. Quietly exhilarating. Although if it weren’t for the complete isolation of that space, I probably wouldn’t have attempted it. This week was backbends and we did some heavy duty work in class so a supported urdhva Dhanurasana felt good.

Roll Over Urdhva Dhanurasana

At day’s end, I’m glad to have partaken of the marvelous bounty that is life.

Backbending in July

Recently, I remembered how, as a beginner, I wished that I could study with Prashantji someday and then it struck me that I was in his class now. And that sort of summarizes my RIMYI journey. Slow, meandering, unexpected but completely organic. The more I attend classes of varying levels, I see the incredible value of the foundational actions in asanas. Keeping at the basics has actually been a faster progression.

The last 2 weeks have been hectic with multiple overlapping deadlines but classes were a constant and they were instrumental in some breakthrough in personal practice. I injured the problem knee over the weekend and so couldn’t do many asanas in the classes. So a switch to the therapy sequence from a few years ago. But this time, I explored some of the kriyas Prashantji talks about and it was illuminating. There is such a marked difference in sensitivity and consequently, access. Like yesterday we were in some quiet Urdhva Dhanurasanas and then were asked to do the regular one without much attention and the violence to the nerves in the latter was so stark. It was like sensing in HD.

Yesterday, Urdhva Dhanurasana was also a learning period as the teachers and assistants worked on each other with hands-on adjusting. It was quite interesting to work with different kinds of bodies, see how the adjustments worked etc. In the bargain, I think I must have done 30 odd Urdhva Dhanurasanas but it was not tiring. I’ve not been practising it much lately and anticipated soreness today but there was minimal discomfort. I suppose there is more skill and less muscular effort in the execution of these poses now.

Speaking of backbends, Sunday’s class was a Chair Vipareeta Dandasana marathon with nearly 90 minutes of the asana, with breaks of course. But, that was again another first for me. Prashantji spoke about yoga as ‘happenings’ rather than ‘doings’ and happenings need ‘stayings’. And somehow that long hour and a half exploration of Vipareeta Dandasana provided the ‘staying’ necessary to move far beyond normal capacity with no distress.

Much of the teachings of yoga are esoteric, hidden in plain sight but the likes of me cannot decode it. It is an extremely slow revealing as one listens to teachers, listens to them carefully, repeatedly and slowly things become apparent, like clouds drifting apart to let the sun appear. At these junctures, there is usually a coming together of different influences speaking of the very same principles. Some of my reading and listening these past weeks have been a case in point.

Most days, I first lie on the Vipareeta Dandasana bridge before the beginning of class. It is the prop that held me through inexplicable heaviness of the heart but now it is a feeling of surrender that I experience. In some sense, it is a prayer, an entering into a sanctuary. The feel of the hard wood on my back and the release of the body as it yields to the support are always a quiet gathering. At day’s end, I’m simply glad for the opportunity to study in person with my teachers, feel the comfort of the call and response of the invocation and experience the gift of one man’s incredible sadhana.

Out in the open

Friday evenings, I remain at the back of the hall not sure what I should do. Yesterday, one of my teachers called me out on this lurking in the shadows. I am so raw, so much a beginner that I wonder what can I do to be of use in a therapy class. But, apparently there is something I can do. Yesterday, I was put with a student who had a similar kind sequence to mine when I was broken. And I got to see how my face might have changed as I saw her skin and eyes lighten. “Open the corners of your eyes” used to be a common refrain then and I found myself mouthing the same.

In one Urdhva Dhanurasana, her body just changed shape and all it took was the teacher’s instruction on one or two actions. That movement was much more than the one with hands helping her become tall. The teacher mentioned that that’s why Guruji would call that asana the art of living. Skilfulness in teaching, that’s what I love about the teachers here. Knowing when to support and when to let the student find out. As also, knowing how much a student can take. In retrospect, I was put through the wringer. I think of it as yoga magic but another teacher pointed out that it was blood and tears. That’s true too. But, one still needs to be touched by grace – of teachers and a Power greater than oneself. I’m grateful to have received that in abundance.

These days, I don’t end up looking back and my heart and head feel like a clear stream with no leftovers from yesterday. It feels as though all the sludge is gone and all that is left is a clean river bed for water to gurgle over. I laugh more and am less self conscious, like a child. The tightness in my neck and throat is no longer there and I can lie in savasana. I am awake and alive. This morning, I went on a tree walk and the guide mentioned how it took some 30-40 years before the barks acquire some character. Human beings are like that too.

A White Shirish tree with its distinctive bark that I had the pleasure of meeting this morning.

Bending over backwards

Medical class is for 105 minutes. Yesterday, I was in intense backbends for over an hour, amply assisted by teachers. I sweated buckets and tired but the teachers didn’t let up and we had a few laughs about the attention I was getting. Many vipareeta dandasana variations, urdhva dhanurasana, chakra bandasana, setubandhasana etc. and many repeats until I could barely walk.

But, the beauty is the recovery, a swinging sirsasana on the ropes. It was happy. Except for a fleeting thought about fast flowing tears and terrible fear in the same asana a couple of months ago, there was nothing but the air against my face and a sense of joy.

Often, I get asked what my ailment is. I wouldn’t know what to say but now I feel, my ailment is avidya. Ignorance, the foremost of the kleshas, containing the remaining four. So, I go and do what my teacher says even if I wonder how in the world I am going to bend over backwards like in the pictures I am shown. It simply looks impossible. But, I trust her, implicitly and go wherever she sends me. Perhaps, this is also about learning to trust myself again.

I came back home and have been mildly obsessed to find out all about viapreeta dandasana. There is much available about the pose, its execution, its benefits and contraindications. I seek something else but it is hidden from me. Perhaps, someone reading this can share? Yesterday, I came across the words Satyam, Shivam, Sundaram in another context and feel it is a clue to what I seek. Translated, it means truth, auspiciousness and beauty – all of which exists in the backbends.

If I have to explore a little about the three, Satyam would be the inescapable confrontation with one’s own self, black, white and grey. Shivam might be the potential for self- realization and Sundaram would be joy, all of which happen in backbends. That class of asanas has been about moving to the light, walking through darkness and seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. It has been walking through the gutters of my mind and finally getting out. I am reminded of The Shawshank Redemption where Tim Robbins walks a similar journey.

Am I free? I don’t know. Chances are I will fail again and hopefully rise again. All I do know is that, yoga has the tools and it is possible to endure.

P.S. I seek to learn and would be grateful for ay experiences that you may share.

Yoga Magic

Something shifted very viscerally last weekend and as the week progressed, it felt like a more solid change. The last couple of months have been mostly about tears and shakiness but this week was of a change in perspective. Almost all the asanas I have been given over the last few weeks have been either sirsasana, backbends on all kinds of props and free standing and some cooling inversions at the end. In all these asanas, the world view is changed, a different outlook when compared to standing on one’s feet.

Last Saturday, I was devastated. My world crumbled so totally that I was an animal in pain. Deep, guttural pain. The preceding week, I took off for a few days, incapable of going to class or even doing anything. I was trapped then in fear and the situation was an almost impossible one. The only recourse seemed a time out. I came back to find my world upended. Even as I felt my being completely ripped, something clicked inside. I decided that I would bleed my heart that day only and no more, except if it came out in class.

Sunday was spent in cleaning the house inside out until it was night and I was exhausted.

Monday was tentative and before my asanas, I spoke with my teacher for a long while. It was good to speak with someone as I was in silence for a few days. It was mostly supported and gentler backbends. As I drove back from class, a thought came to my mind that was a radical change from my usual thought. A different perspective, if you will.

Tuesday was a tottering day in the company of colleagues who chattered no end while I kept to myself. But, the shift in perspective that I experienced after class on Monday got stronger.

Wednesday was supported deep backbends, poses where it felt like I was ironed back into lettting go. The body started to feel different and it felt as though I could stand.

Yesterday I could practise by myself and felt a tiny sense of studentship after so very long.

Today’s backbends made me feel atleast 6 inches longer, so much so my teacher remarked, “who is this person?”

Some of the poses that I went through this week were similar to those I had seen in pictures, like these of Guruji.


Heavily propped and full of lightness, they were longish stays. Sometimes I wish I could see pictures of my body in those shapes, just to understand how it looks on the outside. Most of my asanas now are touch, I only know them through their feel. Often, the set up behind my back is partly constructed after I have bent backwards and I can only exit by removing something. But, the touch of that asana, I remember.

Besides my teachers, there are numerous other hands that have helped me. One of the constants has been a lovely woman, B, who has seen me right from my broken wings days. Another has been P, conscientious and ready to help. J has been a help and apparently I’m the only one who got his name right. And the list goes on. I remain grateful to all who have poured of themselves to help.

It feels as though the heaviest and darkest clouds of sorrow have passed. Maybe this is what acceptance looks like, a washed sky after the rains. Maybe the season of grief is receding, like the monsoons in my part of the world which will soon withdraw and release the most beautiful autumn sunsets. Mostly I think it is magic. Yoga magic that happened while standing on my head or bending so far back that I could see no more. And finally those corners of the eyes opened.

Images: all courtesy the internet.