I haven't posted on the Yoga Sutras in a while...what I imagined as a spring project has rolled into summer...
I was a bit stumped for anything I could say about sutras 1.41-1.51, the last sutras of book one. These 10 sutras describe the transition from the experience of meditation to the experience of samadhi.
I think the experiences described in the 10 sutras fall into the "practice and all is coming" category. When I have such an experience, I'll be sure to let you know. In the mean time, I'll keep working on concentration practice (dharana) as well as the rest of the "lower limbs"...but do read sutras 1.41-1.51 for yourself.
What's possible with practice and time is extraordinary.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Yoga and Change
...so I've been asked this question a few times now...In one student's words: "Is it normal to lose poses?"
...by which she means: is it normal for your expression of a pose to look one way for a while and suddenly one day, it's different? Yes, yes, and yes.
There has yet to be anything static in my practice and I suspect the same holds true for others. While a pose is never the same twice, some changes are more noticeable than others. As a natural backbender, I took my heels without much effort on my first try in Kapotasana. Initially, it was not a pose that I struggled with (although there were and are plenty that I struggle with daily). Some time after, when my teacher introduced the various leg-behind-head poses of second, I lost Kapo. It was puzzling. One day it was there and then one day it was suddenly a crazy intense pose and even my toes seemed very far away. As I wound my way through the experience, over months, Kapo to heels returned, but it's different.
If there was one thing that seemed much clearer to me during the months of that particular transition, it was that the act of doing the pose and noticing whatever was going on was "yoga". The expression of a pose, what it looked like on any particular day, was really neither here nor there. As it has been quoted around the cyber shala: The particular expression of a pose "doesn't last, doesn't satisfy, and isn't me" (-Daniel Ingram I believe; someone correct me if I've gotten that wrong.)
I love Kaivalya's description of a personal body gremlin who moves around hanging out in one place in the body today and settling into a new spot tomorrow. It's such perfect description of the endless little openings and shifts that occur in the body.
The ongoing shifts in my physical practice play back into my mental practice, never letting me get too comfortable, too attached or inattentive in a pose...because as soon as I do, it changes.
...by which she means: is it normal for your expression of a pose to look one way for a while and suddenly one day, it's different? Yes, yes, and yes.
There has yet to be anything static in my practice and I suspect the same holds true for others. While a pose is never the same twice, some changes are more noticeable than others. As a natural backbender, I took my heels without much effort on my first try in Kapotasana. Initially, it was not a pose that I struggled with (although there were and are plenty that I struggle with daily). Some time after, when my teacher introduced the various leg-behind-head poses of second, I lost Kapo. It was puzzling. One day it was there and then one day it was suddenly a crazy intense pose and even my toes seemed very far away. As I wound my way through the experience, over months, Kapo to heels returned, but it's different.
If there was one thing that seemed much clearer to me during the months of that particular transition, it was that the act of doing the pose and noticing whatever was going on was "yoga". The expression of a pose, what it looked like on any particular day, was really neither here nor there. As it has been quoted around the cyber shala: The particular expression of a pose "doesn't last, doesn't satisfy, and isn't me" (-Daniel Ingram I believe; someone correct me if I've gotten that wrong.)
I love Kaivalya's description of a personal body gremlin who moves around hanging out in one place in the body today and settling into a new spot tomorrow. It's such perfect description of the endless little openings and shifts that occur in the body.
The ongoing shifts in my physical practice play back into my mental practice, never letting me get too comfortable, too attached or inattentive in a pose...because as soon as I do, it changes.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Yoga and Life
more on yoga and life...
I'm having a week...can't decide what kind or how I feel about it. Tuesday, I got hit by a car while biking home from work. I'm fine. I have some lovely purple bruises and my left elbow doesn't feel great in chataranga position, but I'm really fine.
Initially, I was just all around pissed off...angry at the driver who failed to yield and who should have had no difficulty seeing me right in front of her...angry about the impending bike repairs.
After something like 9 years of daily Ashtanga practice, though, it seems I can't help but step back and watch all of the inner and outer drama. Noticing is a habit now. I am on one level dealing with all the life stuff (making alternate transportation arrangements, taking the bike in for repairs) and on another level watching my own response to it.
I'm fascinated with how the body responds to the inner drama and vice versa. Wednesday morning, I did a gentle half primary. I wanted to take it easy in case there were any injuries that were slow to appear and I just couldn't face the intensity that I feel in second series. All the inconveniences of being without my regular transportation started to pile up, but I moved through the day with a reasonable amount of steadiness.
This morning, I did most of my regular second series practice with modifications for my left elbow....and as I know well by now, when you open up the body, you open up everything else. Sure enough, by mid-day I was holding back tears and counting the minutes until I could leave work. The physical experience is not separate from the internal experience.
The whole experience reminds me of Susan's recent post. I didn't feel any initial fear or adrenaline during the actual being knocked off my bike part. It took 48 hours for a few tears to leak out and it does have much the same feeling of "backbending weirdness" or "nerve-cleansing tears" as she put it...and in that way it feels familiar.
Tomorrow, I'm looking forward to nice grounding Friday primary practice and then picking up my newly repaired bike at the shop....and hoping for a quiet, uneventful weekend.
I'm having a week...can't decide what kind or how I feel about it. Tuesday, I got hit by a car while biking home from work. I'm fine. I have some lovely purple bruises and my left elbow doesn't feel great in chataranga position, but I'm really fine.
Initially, I was just all around pissed off...angry at the driver who failed to yield and who should have had no difficulty seeing me right in front of her...angry about the impending bike repairs.
After something like 9 years of daily Ashtanga practice, though, it seems I can't help but step back and watch all of the inner and outer drama. Noticing is a habit now. I am on one level dealing with all the life stuff (making alternate transportation arrangements, taking the bike in for repairs) and on another level watching my own response to it.
I'm fascinated with how the body responds to the inner drama and vice versa. Wednesday morning, I did a gentle half primary. I wanted to take it easy in case there were any injuries that were slow to appear and I just couldn't face the intensity that I feel in second series. All the inconveniences of being without my regular transportation started to pile up, but I moved through the day with a reasonable amount of steadiness.
This morning, I did most of my regular second series practice with modifications for my left elbow....and as I know well by now, when you open up the body, you open up everything else. Sure enough, by mid-day I was holding back tears and counting the minutes until I could leave work. The physical experience is not separate from the internal experience.
The whole experience reminds me of Susan's recent post. I didn't feel any initial fear or adrenaline during the actual being knocked off my bike part. It took 48 hours for a few tears to leak out and it does have much the same feeling of "backbending weirdness" or "nerve-cleansing tears" as she put it...and in that way it feels familiar.
Tomorrow, I'm looking forward to nice grounding Friday primary practice and then picking up my newly repaired bike at the shop....and hoping for a quiet, uneventful weekend.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Practice
Practice is life. The two are not separate, just two expressions of the same thing. The time I spend on my mat is a chance to remove extraneous variables and watch myself respond to triggers. What happens when I am tired or uncomfortable? I notice impatience and frustration come up. Hmm. What to do with that? I can express it by forcing poses and letting the breath disintegrate into a raspy mess. Experience suggests that I'll be happier with another choice. So, what to do then? Sit back, watch the physical expression of frustration. Notice areas of tension. Concentrate the breath there. Notice what happens on the inhale. Notice what happens on the exhale. Use what is accessible, body and breath, to change what is not.
Asana practice is a laboratory for my life. It's a place to remove the complications of extraneous circumstances and look at the essence, fundamentals and common threads. It's my chance to slow down the pace and catch myself in moments of fear, discomfort, or ego...and to see what happens when I choose a different response than what I might elect out of habit.
Asana practice is a laboratory for my life. It's a place to remove the complications of extraneous circumstances and look at the essence, fundamentals and common threads. It's my chance to slow down the pace and catch myself in moments of fear, discomfort, or ego...and to see what happens when I choose a different response than what I might elect out of habit.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Random Practice Thoughts
I woke up feeling rested a few minutes before the alarm this morning, which is unusual as I get up pretty early. Despite the moon day, I had plans to practice. I started the first sun salutation and discovered that apparently my last attempt at karandavasana yesterday was one attempt too many. Arms were sore and serratus was really sore. Ah, the results of over-enthusiasm. A few years ago, I probably would have pushed through it. Today though, I cut it short and dialed down the intensity. I'll enjoy primary that much more tomorrow.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Yoga Sutra 1.40: Objects of Meditation
"Mastery is achieved when the mind can concentrate on any object from the smallest atom to the entire cosmos." Sutra 1.40 Maehle translation
Thoughts:
The two translations of the Yoga Sutras that I use the most were done by Iyengar and Maehle. It's interesting to me that the commentary in both translations of this sutra is similar. They both talk about starting to learn to pay attention by using more accessible "objects of meditation" and working up to more challenging ones. It seems to me like a parallel to challenging the breath through asana practice. You start the practice with fundamental asanas. When the breath is steady and easy, you add more challenging asanas, pushing the edges of maintaining a steady breath. It makes sense to me that steadying the mind would work the same way. Start with the basics, then, when the mind is steady, add more challenge.
Ultimately, I suppose the two are really not that separate. Pranayama is, after all, using breath control to control energy and mind. Breath is both an object of meditation and a physical reflection of the steadiness or unsteadiness of the mind.
...I do have the feeling though, when it comes to a steady mind, I'll be working on the basics for a long time...
Thoughts:
The two translations of the Yoga Sutras that I use the most were done by Iyengar and Maehle. It's interesting to me that the commentary in both translations of this sutra is similar. They both talk about starting to learn to pay attention by using more accessible "objects of meditation" and working up to more challenging ones. It seems to me like a parallel to challenging the breath through asana practice. You start the practice with fundamental asanas. When the breath is steady and easy, you add more challenging asanas, pushing the edges of maintaining a steady breath. It makes sense to me that steadying the mind would work the same way. Start with the basics, then, when the mind is steady, add more challenge.
Ultimately, I suppose the two are really not that separate. Pranayama is, after all, using breath control to control energy and mind. Breath is both an object of meditation and a physical reflection of the steadiness or unsteadiness of the mind.
...I do have the feeling though, when it comes to a steady mind, I'll be working on the basics for a long time...
Friday, May 21, 2010
Purging the Clutter
Through a very generous gift from a student, I am now the proud owner of a pile of Ashtanga primary series Dvd's and books. Among the set is a copy of Matthew Sweeney's 'Vinyasa Krama'. I happily took the book off my amazon wishlist and commenced reading.
Something I read has been on my mind for a couple days now. He says, (and I'm paraphrasing as I don't have the book where I'm writing from) "It's very difficult to quiet the mind in a cluttered space." He's speaking in reference to setting aside a space for yoga practice. Well, my studio space is tidy and uncluttered, but the rest of the house...hmmm...not so much. An artifact of my recent busyness is an accumulation of piles of stuff.
This weekend's activities: purging! I actually love the feeling of throwing out and giving away stuff. The feeling of getting rid of physical stuff is very cathartic, almost as if I'm tossing mental and emotional gunk out with it...and maybe the mental quiet of yoga practice will stay with me a little longer if the rest of my physical space is as tidy as the space I set aside for asana practice.
Happy Friday Everyone!
Something I read has been on my mind for a couple days now. He says, (and I'm paraphrasing as I don't have the book where I'm writing from) "It's very difficult to quiet the mind in a cluttered space." He's speaking in reference to setting aside a space for yoga practice. Well, my studio space is tidy and uncluttered, but the rest of the house...hmmm...not so much. An artifact of my recent busyness is an accumulation of piles of stuff.
This weekend's activities: purging! I actually love the feeling of throwing out and giving away stuff. The feeling of getting rid of physical stuff is very cathartic, almost as if I'm tossing mental and emotional gunk out with it...and maybe the mental quiet of yoga practice will stay with me a little longer if the rest of my physical space is as tidy as the space I set aside for asana practice.
Happy Friday Everyone!
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