Yoga...the art of waking up. ~ Alan Watts
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...If we do not have aches and pains in our body, we cannot attain
mindfulness, we cannot actually meditate. If every thing were
lovey-dovey and jellyfishlike, there would be nothing to work with.
Everything would be completely blank. Because of all these textures
around us, we are enriched. ~from Taming The Mind by Chogyam Trungpa
- - -
- - -
...If we do not have aches and pains in our body, we cannot attain
mindfulness, we cannot actually meditate. If every thing were
lovey-dovey and jellyfishlike, there would be nothing to work with.
Everything would be completely blank. Because of all these textures
around us, we are enriched. ~from Taming The Mind by Chogyam Trungpa
- - -
Yoga aligns the chakras, helping to streamline tangled energy. ~ Brigitte Mars
- - - I wish that the message of Peace may be experienced through Yoga, which is not only a culture of the body but the evolution of the Self. ~ Yogacharya B.K.S. Iyengar
- - -
- - - I wish that the message of Peace may be experienced through Yoga, which is not only a culture of the body but the evolution of the Self. ~ Yogacharya B.K.S. Iyengar
- - -
Yoga & the Outdoors
We humans are locked in these bodies. These awkward, gangly, painful bodies and these searching, equally painful minds. As humans, we need to practice wringing ourselves out so that we can see clearly, and feel unleashed. We need to practice, to train at the game of ease, at the game of living comfortably in our bodies and our minds - Walks in the woods, a regular yoga practice, doing things that loosen and stregthen us. As humans, we must do things that heal us. Or we will be sick. We will hurt. We will be rigid. We will not see clearly. We will not maintain calm.
Life has so much potential, but can only be realized if our minds and our bodies are ready for it. If we are released from overwhelming pain, and from our distasteful perceptions, fear and rigid thinking, we can finally appreciate ourselves, our opportunities, others, and the world.
Heal yourself.
Life has so much potential, but can only be realized if our minds and our bodies are ready for it. If we are released from overwhelming pain, and from our distasteful perceptions, fear and rigid thinking, we can finally appreciate ourselves, our opportunities, others, and the world.
Heal yourself.
This Looks Like Freedom to Me.
My Thirty-Minute Down Dog
Today, I decided to do one pose, for 30 minutes.
No rushing. No excuses. Just one pose, 30 minutes. Outside, in the late afternoon sun.
Down Dog.
Image courtesy of House of Ashtanga.
Four minutes in I thought, there is no way. Absolutely no way.
I was an avid, very avid, ashtanga yogi for 2 years. I diligently went to a primary series class 5 or 6 times a week, every week. I also started trying second series classes now and again. Unless I was injured. It was the best thing in my life. I wrung myself out. I worked through decades of back tension, severe back tension, debilitating back tension, terrible neck pain, constant.
I got it out of me, something that I thought I would grow old with. Something I thought I would grow crippled with. My body became supple and stopped fighting against the world. I felt more and more free in my own body as the muscles, ligaments, joints, were let loose. The barriers came down.
That was 4 years ago and while I still walk through life as a yogi (or so I sort of like to believe), my body was not exactly holding on to all of the lessons it had learned.
I started a desk job. I was busy. Busy busy. There was constant movement and rushing and trying to fit everything in. This is good. It means you are not bored. It means life has meaning and you have things you want to do. But my body began screaming at me. My mind was too busy to listen. To practice. To practice that practice that I know can save a person. I didn’t seem to have time to do the series. I would rush though even the small pieces I tried to fit in.
Today, I decided to do one pose, for 30 minutes. No rushing. No excuses. Just one pose, 30 minutes. Outside, in the late afternoon sun. Down Dog.
At 4 minutes in, it was hard. I thought it would be the legs that would give way, that would break through the accumulated tension, but it was my shoulders that were struggling. I couldn’t get them into the right posture. They were tight, and my bad shoulder, the left one, was particularly troublesome. I had no control over it. There were things in it stopping the correct movement. It hurt. A lot.
Had I decided to get in the pose, for 30 minutes, no matter what, and power though, that would not have been yoga. Torturing yourself, doing damage to your body, is not yoga. So with the principle of ahimsa in mind, nonviolence, I dealt with the situation.
I went down onto the forearms. And pressed up through the forearms into a modified downward dog, trying to press the tension from the shoulders. I went side to side stretching different pieces of tension. I went back to the full pose. Stayed there and was still stuck and in pain.
I was an avid, very avid, ashtanga yogi for 2 years. I diligently went to a primary series class 5 or 6 times a week, every week. I also started trying second series classes now and again. Unless I was injured. It was the best thing in my life. I wrung myself out. I worked through decades of back tension, severe back tension, debilitating back tension, terrible neck pain, constant.
I got it out of me, something that I thought I would grow old with. Something I thought I would grow crippled with. My body became supple and stopped fighting against the world. I felt more and more free in my own body as the muscles, ligaments, joints, were let loose. The barriers came down.
That was 4 years ago and while I still walk through life as a yogi (or so I sort of like to believe), my body was not exactly holding on to all of the lessons it had learned.
I started a desk job. I was busy. Busy busy. There was constant movement and rushing and trying to fit everything in. This is good. It means you are not bored. It means life has meaning and you have things you want to do. But my body began screaming at me. My mind was too busy to listen. To practice. To practice that practice that I know can save a person. I didn’t seem to have time to do the series. I would rush though even the small pieces I tried to fit in.
Today, I decided to do one pose, for 30 minutes. No rushing. No excuses. Just one pose, 30 minutes. Outside, in the late afternoon sun. Down Dog.
At 4 minutes in, it was hard. I thought it would be the legs that would give way, that would break through the accumulated tension, but it was my shoulders that were struggling. I couldn’t get them into the right posture. They were tight, and my bad shoulder, the left one, was particularly troublesome. I had no control over it. There were things in it stopping the correct movement. It hurt. A lot.
Had I decided to get in the pose, for 30 minutes, no matter what, and power though, that would not have been yoga. Torturing yourself, doing damage to your body, is not yoga. So with the principle of ahimsa in mind, nonviolence, I dealt with the situation.
I went down onto the forearms. And pressed up through the forearms into a modified downward dog, trying to press the tension from the shoulders. I went side to side stretching different pieces of tension. I went back to the full pose. Stayed there and was still stuck and in pain.
Extreme Challenge - Utmost Care
Image courtesy of Yoga Chicago
I came to my knees, and stretched my shoulders. One then the other. I took some time to really work the shoulders, deeply stretch into them. I tried to pull the tension out. It’s easy to go too far, but going far enough also takes focus and care. I got back into downward dog, still tight shoulders. Still painful. Stayed as long as possible.
The way I practice yoga, I believe, in each pose, in working out the tension presented. So I kept making small adjustments, giving one arm a rest and then the other. Pressing deeply into the pose for as long as possible. I turned sideways and stretched one arm up over the head, and then the other. It was harder than I expected.
At about 12 minutes, I remembered the moola banda. I activated the moola banda and found some relief. I remembered the ujai breath. I propped myself up on strong breath and strong banda. It couldn't last forever, but it helped for a while. It helped me get into the pose. Into the length of the pose and the movement of the spine. It helped my armpits open.
At 18 minutes, I was feeling it. I had been pressing the palms of the hands so firmly into the mat for so long, trying to get length and openness in the shoulders that they became exhausted. I kept activating the legs, but the shoulders remained the challenge.
I walked my hands towards my feet, shortening the stance. This took most of the pressure off of the hands and allowed the legs to stretch. I activated the moola banda, hollowed the belly, and shorted the stance some more. I finally came all the way to my feet and let the arms and hands hang. I rotated my shoulders and allowed the hands to rest on the small of the back - the ultimate relief!
I walked the hands back into a downward dog and waited. It felt better. Somewhat. I stretched the legs, one by one, back out and up. My arms shook. When you are this far into a down dog, you can feel exactly where all the pressure is. There is no accidental favoring of one side or another.
I though of stories I had heard about the old yogis. The ones who would not let their students proceed to the next asana of a series until they had mastered the one they were on. I did not understand how one asana would do the trick. Would satisfy my thirst for yoga, for a full body experience. At 22 minutes, I began to understand. I began to feel each piece of the structure of my body in that pose. I felt each tiny change, each postural experiment.
I put my hands in fists to prepare for the final push to 30. My hands felt smashed and relieved in this new position. But soon came again to palms down and pressed again into the pose. Pelvic activated, hamstrings stretched, heels down, spine lengthening, neck loose. That beautiful downward dog. That pose that tortures and mystifies beginners but that ultimately rewards.
The body was now ready, was more open than it had been less than a half hour before. It was ready to express itself as downward dog. The tension in the shoulders was much diminished. The banda and breath came back. I did the pose until minute 28.
With 2 minutes left, I’ll admit, a bit of a death march sunk in. But one that was notably pleased with itself.
At 30 minutes, I completed the Surynamaskara, Sun Salutaiton, A, that I had begun 30 minutes before. As I raised the arms above the head, I knew this had been a good idea. I proceeded to enter into several other asanas just following the flow of the body. Letting it take me were it needed to go. I got deeper than I had in years, lighter, into every single position. At this point, the mind was relaxed. It was not struggling with how to stay in the downward dog without injuring myself. It was free to roam, but mostly it just appreciated the space as the sun set behind the hill and the body sunk into the best savasana in years.
The way I practice yoga, I believe, in each pose, in working out the tension presented. So I kept making small adjustments, giving one arm a rest and then the other. Pressing deeply into the pose for as long as possible. I turned sideways and stretched one arm up over the head, and then the other. It was harder than I expected.
At about 12 minutes, I remembered the moola banda. I activated the moola banda and found some relief. I remembered the ujai breath. I propped myself up on strong breath and strong banda. It couldn't last forever, but it helped for a while. It helped me get into the pose. Into the length of the pose and the movement of the spine. It helped my armpits open.
At 18 minutes, I was feeling it. I had been pressing the palms of the hands so firmly into the mat for so long, trying to get length and openness in the shoulders that they became exhausted. I kept activating the legs, but the shoulders remained the challenge.
I walked my hands towards my feet, shortening the stance. This took most of the pressure off of the hands and allowed the legs to stretch. I activated the moola banda, hollowed the belly, and shorted the stance some more. I finally came all the way to my feet and let the arms and hands hang. I rotated my shoulders and allowed the hands to rest on the small of the back - the ultimate relief!
I walked the hands back into a downward dog and waited. It felt better. Somewhat. I stretched the legs, one by one, back out and up. My arms shook. When you are this far into a down dog, you can feel exactly where all the pressure is. There is no accidental favoring of one side or another.
I though of stories I had heard about the old yogis. The ones who would not let their students proceed to the next asana of a series until they had mastered the one they were on. I did not understand how one asana would do the trick. Would satisfy my thirst for yoga, for a full body experience. At 22 minutes, I began to understand. I began to feel each piece of the structure of my body in that pose. I felt each tiny change, each postural experiment.
I put my hands in fists to prepare for the final push to 30. My hands felt smashed and relieved in this new position. But soon came again to palms down and pressed again into the pose. Pelvic activated, hamstrings stretched, heels down, spine lengthening, neck loose. That beautiful downward dog. That pose that tortures and mystifies beginners but that ultimately rewards.
The body was now ready, was more open than it had been less than a half hour before. It was ready to express itself as downward dog. The tension in the shoulders was much diminished. The banda and breath came back. I did the pose until minute 28.
With 2 minutes left, I’ll admit, a bit of a death march sunk in. But one that was notably pleased with itself.
At 30 minutes, I completed the Surynamaskara, Sun Salutaiton, A, that I had begun 30 minutes before. As I raised the arms above the head, I knew this had been a good idea. I proceeded to enter into several other asanas just following the flow of the body. Letting it take me were it needed to go. I got deeper than I had in years, lighter, into every single position. At this point, the mind was relaxed. It was not struggling with how to stay in the downward dog without injuring myself. It was free to roam, but mostly it just appreciated the space as the sun set behind the hill and the body sunk into the best savasana in years.
