Hatha - Day 16

Had a great regular class with my teacher today (I need to come up with a pseudonym I guess, since 'my teacher' applies to more than just her...)

I should first say that I discovered why I was feeling so terrible again yesterday, after having been on the upswing the day before - my body does not appreciate large amounts of vitamin c. I got some emergen-c, for the first time ever, thinking it would be a better alternative to something like gatorade because it had electrolytes and vitamins but not the sugar and fake stuff. While that logic is probably valid, I can't see how people use multiple packets of it in a single day. I was feeling very nasty with just one! Fortunately before I had any this morning I decided to use the google machine just to see if there was anything I should know about it. 1,000mg is a lot of C. Unsurprisingly, too much. Nevertheless, lesson learned!

It was wonderful to be doing yoga today and feel good. And also to be in the presence of so many great yogis who want to be in class, and have great energy, and to have such a great teacher. I realized that one of the greatest things about the teachers I have, and the classes I go to, and the yoga community I am a part of is the pure love that is shared. Every teacher loves teaching, every student loves the inquiry, and we all have a shared love of yoga. But it isn't just love as a passion for this common activity or path, it is love in a compassionate and human sense. It is interconnectedness and investment and respect. It is the balance of our humanity and our appreciation of our shared mortality, and also and intense positive recognition of what is possible.

The balance of light and dark, male and female, sun and moon. Hatha.

Ahimsa, Day 15

The yamas and the niyamas get a lot of overplay in the western world of yoga. They are very important, but as two of the eight limbs, all are equally important at their given moments of manifestation. But this is important.

I've been talking about this for two days now. About dealing with chronic illness, and maintaining a practice while trying to cultivate and appreciate a physical body that I am so often incredibly detached from, and yet inevitably tethered to.

Today my teacher's words echoed in my head as my mind mind fought to practice hard, and my body folded beneath me - "be kind to yourself."

And I read some this morning in the Hatha Yoga Pradipika. I don't read as often from this book, or at least nothing that I cite actively here on this blog, but it is one of the most valuable texts I have.
1.10 "For those continually tempered by the heat of tapa (the three types of pain - spiritual, environmental and physical) hatha is like the hermitage giving protection from the heat. For those always united in yoga, hatha is the basis acting like a tortoise."

I found today that my yoga was both the tortoise and the hermitage. I found a foundation of strength mentally, in my knowledge of yoga and the peace of meditation, as well as the wisdom of reflection and not attaching to the situation. I also found the hermitage in yoga asanas that did offer some relief, and in knowing that asana practice (although a big part of my life right now) is not all that yoga is. In fact asana alone is only a smart part of the path of yoga, and seeing physical obstacles to practicing asana must be turned into an opportunity to focus on other facets of the prism that is yoga.

I do not know why I have this health problem. I have not navigated the web of my karma to understand where it comes from, or where it will take me. I only know that today my body is not in condition to do asana. Somedays my mind is not in condition to do meditation - I don't get frustrated or disappointed then. Why should my physical condition be different? This itself is a form of tapas - seeing the obstacles in front of you and choosing to face them. My tapas today wasn't my physical illness, it was my mental state.

I only did a few asanas today. I only did what felt good. My mind didn't like it, nor my ego. But how can I cultivate a heart of compassion toward other human beings if I cannot grant compassion to myself?

Hatha - Day 9

I mentioned before how one of the neat things about doing Astanga is that I am able to focus on each pose as I do it, primarily because I don't have to figure out or worry about what comes next or how to get there. What I am going to do is already decided, I only have to focus on doing it.

On the flip side, being in class and having someone (the teacher) guiding you through each movement, and often adding cues for inhaling and exhaling offers the same benefit. Maybe I noticed that this week in class because I had also noticed it in my personal practice. Or maybe feeling that relief comes as a reflection of my underlying feelings about playing that role for myself. Do I trust the Astanga practice to guide me adequately? Am I feeling insecure about my ability to perform the asanas accurately and safely on my own? Or is it simply an enhanced appreciation for the trust I have built in my regular teachers and familiar environments?

Maybe some of each. Class on tuesday was more a mental endurance challenge than a physical one - which is not to discount either as better or worse than the other. Some of the best classes I've taken have been the ones that take a few basic postures and turn them into a mind-blowing exercise in will power and humility. This week though, the mental focus was almost a vacation from some of the physically challenging aspects of Astanga.

Hatha - Day 4

The upside to telling my friends and teachers that I am doing something like this month of astanga is that I find out about others who are undertaking similar challenges, and get lots of advice. The downside, if you could really call it that, is that I'm in class doing sun salutations and thinking "okay, now that my teacher knows I'm working on astanga, I hope that everytime I have funky alignment they don't think this is how I do it at home!"

ah the neurosis. There's nowhere to hide, because it will always find you if your mind is open to it. And allowing yourself insecurity leaves your mind vulnerable that way.

Steve's class was great this evening. He was subbing the rare Yoga 2, which is not a common class anyway and even less common for him to teach it. Steve is also doing Astanga stuff right now, and unsurprisingly the class really reflected that. Great for me! It was totally the perfect Astanga/Hatha hybrid class for my in-between day. I could hear others struggling though, with the pace and rhythm. It's an advantage to be in class like that and be familiar with the sequence, because you know how to breathe and can anticipate what might be happening next. Without that familiarity it is easy to get huffing and puffing. The studio was really humid also, which made for a nice astanga-y atmosphere. I felt strong the whole class, and didn't drop out during savasana either. Evening classes really are the best for me.

I also got my books today, which is great timing because it looks like we are in for a massive snowstorm and I will have plenty of exciting reading material! Not that I need to start reading other things..I am still enthusiastically plugging away at Iyengar's Light on the Yoga Sutras - different from Light on Yoga, though I have that too. His work is brilliant, and really offers a lot of clarification and helpful insight to Patanjali's work. I feel, however, like there is no end to the number of texts and writings about yoga that I want to read and learn.

Hatha - Day 2

Sometimes having the opportunity to practice with a small group of familiar people, all of whom are near the same level of asana practice as you, and with a great teacher whose style suits you is just what you need.

I have that opportunity every week. I am so fortunate. It is a class I always enjoy, with people who are not competitive or neurotic about their mats or their for any other reason beyond the love of our teacher and our practice.

While I am undertaking the challenge of Astanga, having these regular classes that are not astanga and that are comfortable to some degree is an amazing reprieve. My teacher told me today to remember to be kind to myself. I have been, but her comment reminded me of the delicate meeting place of the yamas and niyamas.

Tapas often involves voluntarily subjecting oneself to unpleasant things, but there is a difference between this and harming or injuring yourself. Intention plays a big role, expectations too, and and acknowledging and appreciating the aspects of yourself that make each obstacle a challenge. Tapas is undertaken with the realization that the obstacle is preventing you from moving forward, from rising above, from fully recognizing all the yamas and niyamas at your greatest potential.

It's true that many people choose to undertake a practice of tapas, but we don't always choose to enter Tapas moments - for example, you may find yourself on a conference call in which your boss is screaming unnecessarily and agitating everyone around you, and yourself. Tapas becomes tapas based on the way you choose to react or deal with the situation - either to challenge yourself to overcome the obstacle, or to fall back into your habits and tendencies.

I love Hatha yoga, and as far as study and practice go it is where my interest lies. But all paths of yoga and all traditions have remarkable qualities. They all have something to offer at some point in your journey (why do you think so many excellent teachers have practiced so many different styles throughout their careers?) At this point, I have noticed that not only do I have a fear/concern that I won't be able to maintain my interest in yoga, I also see in myself the very changeable Vata qualities that are dominant in my personality. I don't like routine, I don't like monotony. I have hundreds of interests, and to some degree I consider myself a Jane of all trades because I have tried and investigated and toyed with so many different topics and issues and hobbies. For me, the challenge of astanga is Tapas because the consistency and routine, as well as the intensity and length of the practice go against a lot of my natural qualities. But it is not just a physical tapas, it is a mental tapas.

I want to demonstrate to myself and my teachers that even when it gets tough, even when I don't want to do it anymore because I am bored or frustrated or tired, that I recognize those are just aspects of the fluctuations of consciousness. They don't represent my potential or my current ability, or how far I've come. And that I am willing and able to work through those.

These obstacles are small compared to others I will probably encounter, but we all have to start somewhere. I am starting here.