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Painfully Magical
I continue to be amazed at what happens in my own Mysore practice. Different from practicing the primary series at home, the little whimper, laughter, grunt, or simply the collective breath of the room has a way of letting me know that I am not alone. It’s background noise as I focus on my own practice: my breath, the soft gaze on the both the room and internally, the poses themselves, and the pain. Yup, still there.
I come to the mat trying to welcome whatever comes while fearing what will come as well. It was one of those put-me-out-of-misery kind of nights, thanks to a momentary pushing-too-hard during Saturday’s class. If you’ve known me for any period of time, you know that I have a tendency to push myself hard and, in this instance, it wasn’t enough to have my left leg over my shoulder for astavakrosana (eight angle pose) – even though it was the first time opening my hip enough to get there since my sacroiliac joint injury. I caught myself trying repeatedly to get it higher up on my shoulder and, by the time I noticed that I’d fallen back into this pattern, I’d been tugging on it for nearly a minute. Santosha (contentment) is where I need to work. This practice, specifically the Ashtanga Method, works — but you’ve got to be patient, diligent, and honest with yourself.
My teacher posted a well timed article written on the topic of pain. The author, Ty Landrom writes “The postures provoke patterns of tension in our bodies, and when we pull against them, they scour our nerves. The form of the practice, with its linear progression of sequences, leaves no route of escape. The poses that make us tremble today must be practiced tomorrow. Most people promptly quit Ashtanga for this reason. They go find another, more forgiving form.”
Well, I don’t want to find another form of practice, and this is why.
really, really, REALLY good
On day 1 of teacher training, I listened as Jenn, our leader, talked about teaching in a way I’d never quite heard before. She advised us to say “YES” to whatever we are called to give. In her instance, if I am remembering correctly, it was a call for a very different kind of teaching; one that would make her struggle to learn how to work with a client with physical limitations regain function through yoga. Not knowing how she would do it, she said “yes,” then found the way. I sat there listening and felt, in my heart, that there was a reason I started down this path and decided it was time to stop letting fear get in the way of me seeing it through. Now, on day 7 of my 10 day yoga teacher training, I feel like I might actually have what it takes to do this teaching thing.
All of the teachings that I have been hearing, reading, and trying to absorb over this last year or so is finally starting to sound familiar AND make sense. I’m excited to have learned the components of a well rounded class (for mind, body, and spirit), the magic of stringing a series of poses together which lead to the peak pose of the practice, and the importance of incorporating a theme/message which invite the students to journey within. It’s pretty cool to see the puzzle pieces as they fall into place. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem as if all of the pieces are blank.
Different from the exhaustion I experienced during my last time, I leave the studio energized and completely jazzed about some new aspect of this amazing practice. Did I mention that our day has started at 6:30 AM every day this week? I’m totally psyched — not to mention SORE! Ideas for class themes have begun to bubble to the surface and suddenly completing the certification process is more important than it was before.
It’s good…really, really, REALLY good.
Quiet Time
In the wee hours of the day, before the newspapers land on the driveways, and the cars crowd onto the highways, we sit in silence and breathe. Candles flicker in the darkness as the light within each of us begins to ignite. This is how we start the day on our mat.
Just Breathe
This feeling of uncomfortableness is familiar. As is the overwhelming feeling of a need to escape it. My low back is sore and tight. The fleshy areas surrounding my sit bones are tender. Everything in me wants to fix it.
But I know that I can’t.
Therefore, I sit here and try to simply breathe. Hopefully my mind will settle. Perhaps my body will too.
Ready or Not
This morning I pray to Ganesh, and all the rest of the gods, for a little help in getting through the next phase of training. No only have I not completed all the reading that I set my sights on finishing, my body seems to be rebelling about my recent leap forward into a fast-moving, full on, powerfully good and hot class.
As I sit quietly, my emotions as palpable as my pulse, I remind myself that all emotions are good. This fear, apprehension, feeling of defeat, and sadness is a valid and important as the excitement, anticipation, hopefulness, and pride for how far I have come (even if it is not as far as I think I should). The mixture of emotions is not all that unfamiliar to me. It’s a lot like the feeling I’ve had just before toeing the line for a big marathon where uncertainties about preparation, residual effects from injuries not quite healed, past races where my performance fell short of my goal compete with all positive affirmations and preparations put down to pave the way to success.
It is important to go into these challenges remembering that any and all movement forward is good. Just like missing the goal of qualifying for the Boston Marathon was not really a failure but rather another 26.2 miles of forward movement towards a goal, so too will be completing these 100 hours of yoga training. The time is NOW! Ready or not, here I go.