I have been having a medley of amusing practices since moving to Squamish. I am practicing in my living room with an electric heater by my feet. There is always a good temperature differential between my feet and my upper body. Lately, I have been splurging and turning on the oven from time to time and leaving the door open to pump some more heat into the dank basement we live in. When Sarah was here it was just starting the rainy season, and with two bodies in this little 100 square foot practice room it was really pleasant. However, now it has started to monsoon and it feels a little more clammy. An essential practice piece has been leggings or long underwear. If you ever have to do your yoga practice in a cool room Patagonia does a great capilene long underwear that work very well to keep you warm... they are also nice and slippery for leg-behind-the-heads. Shown in pictures... ;)
I have been learning a lot from practicing in a cool room as opposed to the deliciously warm room that I had the fortune of using for a few years. I am definitely more aware of where my body is in space and deeper poses feel... well... harder. To think of one, Kapotasana. This is the deepest pose for me of the second series. It also comes fairly early in the series, I always wondered why "they" (the Ashtanga Gods) didn't put this one a little later on when your back is a little WARMER. I also think it is funny how one places ones hands together in prayer before going up and over backwards... sometimes I feel like I am really praying for the 5 breaths to be over. Half way through the series when it is far behind me and I am feeling all ecstatic from the lovely twists and hip openers I never ask myself this question- I just revel in the brilliance of the Ashtanga Series. I forget how much tension my body has amassed, as it begins to change. Hmmmmm, everything is impermanent, changing, changing, changing... "they" must be trying to tell us something.
Anyways, early in the morning- and cold- Kapotasana has a very strong sensation.
But it's funny how absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I have also been working funny shifts lately. 3 days a week I have been doing double shifts and there is not much time in there for practice. I am lucky to get some standing series in and a meditation. This absence from my practice seems to sprinkle sugar all over Kapotasana, making it easier to digest. On the fourth day, when I stand on my matt and I have what seems like eons of time, by the time I get to Kapotasana I am loving it. In fact I am stealing a few more breaths in it. 6, 7, 8. Mmmm. I am just so happy to BE practicing, the stronger sensation the better. I just feel grateful for the benefit the posture gives me and how much stronger it makes me.
I wonder if this is a pattern in our lives.
As I get a little older I feel like there are so many more things to be aware of- or I am just more aware of things outside of myself... the future plays a much larger role in my decision making. I have a little less time, it seems, for me. Of course I have made the decisions for it to be that way but there seems to be a natural progression towards creating a home for myself, and one day, a potential little other. The more I feel this way, the more sacred the moments begin to feel when I am not working towards a future or dwelling in the past. It doesn't matter if I can do yoga, have an hour to cuddle with Sonnie, meditate, be outdoors, climb or study every day, but when I CAN... I can feel the vibrance of those activities... and I can feel appreciative for the medicinal, cleansing habitudes that I choose to practice, and taste the real sweetness of hard work.
All the people that have chosen to parent must know this well!
So I hope you are all tasting the sweetness of what you have out there. The easy and the hard things you choose as your sacred methods to enjoy your life.
Enjoy your life.
Lydia
4 comments:
Nice posting. Do you know about these yoga books?
http://www.YogaVidya.com/freepdfs.html
Absence certainly does make the heart grow fonder,(or the eyes wonder). But luckily for me it's 'fonder', I moved over here and left someone close to me behind, who bonded ever closer after we broke up before all that, surprisingly to me, it's been a strong bond since, and I am so looking forward to seeing him again next month, he's picking me up at the airport and taking me back to his for a week, we part for a week for xmas with our parents, then I am with him again for my last whole week before returning back here to Canada. Then he is over here visiting me for ski season in March/April. Life is good.
As a relative newcomer to yoga, I marvel at advanced postures such as the one pictured here. But there also seems to be an element of common experience contained in your words: "praying for the 5 breaths to be over." "how much tension my body has amassed" These are certainly things I've felt during my fledgling practice. In this context, I'd welcome any thoughts you might have on my own, beginner's experience...
I come to this site and to yoga as a climber. I started yoga a year ago to work on flexibility and core strength. I averaged a core-oriented class a week with good results until the climbing season hit full steam around May and then stopped going. As the summer progressed, I could feel hints of loss of flexibility, especially in my hips. But hey, I was crimping like a fiend and was only a move away from sending the new proj we just bolted. You know how it goes.
Then, in September, I returned from a road trip with a little hitch in my shoulder. I ignored it and kept climbing. Not smart. The pain got worse and within 2 weeks I couldn't even raise my arm over my head. Climbing was out of the question. So, the "opportunity" presented itself to address my training imbalance, to take a break from pulling on holds. As part of my recovery strategy, I've dusted off my yoga matt, and am now attending two classes per week.
I climbed hard this summer and thought I was in great shape. But upon returning to yoga after 5 months' absence, as Tim Cahill so famously wrote (http://www.yogajournal.com/lifestyle/319), it has been kicking my butt. My lithe classmates emerge from our sessions with their Pranas barely creased. My sweat-soaked tee shirt makes me look like I've just hacked my way through 20 miles of rainforest jungle. Holding my arms outstretched for a few minutes in warrior variations is epic. Recovery in down dog? I just pray it will end before I deck.
Though I read plenty about training for climbing, and thought I was doing enough complementary exercise, I've been caught by surprise at how specialized my body has become. Even more so, how weak it is at something as normal as a pushup. I realize I've become all folded forward, scrunched up and knotted like a T-Rex. I wasn't even aware this transmogrification was taking place. Not until I struggled through that first yoga class a few weeks ago and walked out, soaked and humbled, but with a slight opening of my shoulders and hips that felt good, like a big stretch in the morning.
Before I started practicing yoga, I assumed it was all about finding Oneness with the Universe. I'd thumb through Yoga Journal at the local food co-op, see the serene figures gazing toward Infinity, and assume that's what yoga was all about. Now my association is quite different. It includes fatigue, discomfort, endurance, elevated heart rate, pain, humility and hard work. At this point, I'm not even sure I consider it "fun." My motivation lies in my conviction that it greatly benefits my climbing, for which I'll do just about anything. For now, yoga remains the toughest physical, if not mental challenge I face during the week. But each week, it does get a little easier.
With all that said, I can't help wonder, is this a typical learning curve? Is there a threshold one crosses where the horizon opens up and micro-enlightenments begin to occur? Or at least, where it gets easier? And, on a more practical level, if I do twice-weekly yoga until spring, and then reduce that to once a week during the prime climbing months, will that be enough for maintenance? At this stage, I'm not even close to expecting Universal Oneness. I would just like to be a fit and injury-resistant climber. That and be able to wear Prana to yoga class without fear of trashing it.
-Ken
Hello Ken.
Thank you for your post. It made me laugh and smile... and relate!
I really think you should send this to the Yoga Journal... if I was editing I would print this excerpt of your thoughts. That universal oneness you are talking about... I think you are completely tapping in to it by just being so truthful to yourself and accepting where you are! I think that kind of connection isn't always the kind that we might perceive it to be... all light and elevated and stuff... just observation of the truth of things that's all.
As for the yoga journal, it is nice and marketable and there is nothing wrong with it, but it doesn't encompass all that yoga is either from a visual perspective anyways.
Yoga is for everyone.
One of my teachers says that it is a gift to be tight because it brings you CLOSER to enlightenment by being forced into the PRACTICAL moment of the present. Those bendy bodies may or may not be experiencing their edge and remaining equanimous to it. I've seen lots of flexible bodies drift off into la la land... and sleep while they are awake. We all have that edge, legs behind the head or not. But are we all finding it?
I still find my tight areas every day. It is always a challenge.
My boyfriend wonders why I practice so much... it is not because I am trying to gain some physical status... it is more that I am just working diligently at refining that mental process... to free myself.
I'd recommend that you practice at least 3 times a week. But you don't have to kill yourself every practice. Take child's pose. Breathe. Who cares what other people are doing... (I know it's really easy to say but it really is a challenge to follow these words.)
Do Yin yoga some days. Meditate some days. Whatever works for you.
I think you are a great yogi already.
Thanks for reading.
I hope to meet you someday.
Lydia
Post a Comment