More on Savasnana
When I first started to practice ashtanga I used to spend most of my savasana planning breakfast.
My breakfast meditations were quite detailed. I would run through options from eggs and haloumi (which is the closest vegetarians get to bacon) to porridge, maybe with honey and banana. I would work out possibile breakfasts using complex formulas that included the contents of the fridge, desired extra items in nearby shop, cost of shop items versus personal budget and distance to shop times effort of putting on clothes and current weather conditions.
It was a while before savasana became something more like sinking into dark, warm water. Or even experiencing radiant light, but that has only happened once. Its hard to recall the contents of all my savasanas, early and recent, but I am aware that when I first started to practice I didn't really know how to approach savasana. But I think a handful of teachers have pointed me in the right direction. So a big thank you and many blessings to...
Danny Paradise who said savasana is when you should lie back and let your practice soak into your body (but not in those exact words, I paraphrase). And if you fall asleep - well fine. I love the word 'soak' in this context because ashtanga, for me anyway, especially if I practice in an overheated studio, is tres sweaty - so at the end of the practice, when I reach a stillnesss, my body is wet and then I can feel the moisture evaporate from my skin as the yoga, somehow, sinks in.
Anna Ashby (who teaches at tri-yoga, London)- during her extremely subtle, careful guided meditations at the end of her regular Restorative class, has talked about finding the space inbetween thoughts. I love her guided meditations - and this can be a really difficult area, I imagine, but she is very careful with her words, nothing flowery or Edenic, her words are always quite hard, cold, simple. I am sure they are coming from experience. And I love that phrase of 'finding the space between thoughts'. I find that really helpful in terms of not listening to my thoughts, of looking for a vacuum or darkness between sentences and individual words. And entering or embracing that space.
Reading Sri Swami Satchidanada's commentary on The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. I've probably misread or misinterpreted his teachings but reading this book on the bus to yoga every morning has continually hammered into my head the possibility that I don't have to (and perhaps shouldn't) listen to the 'I' voice in my head. What I used to think of as being 'me' is just mad babble, an appalling radio station and I really don't have to pay attention. Or at least just listen to it and sigh, as if I was overhearing someone else's conversation, rather than let it dominate and drive 'me'.
Jules Paxton (a great American teacher) who teaches an alignment technique and has told me, repeatedly, that I am not in alignment (or centred or fully alive) most of the time because (and not only for this reason) but because 'you think you are who you think you are'. And apologies to Jules for my usual distillaton and probable misreading of everyone's teachings - especially as I'm just extracting a line from his way more sophisticated body of teaching but its still a line that works for me (if we must use 'me'). I don't know if I can refer to myself as 'it' yet. Although its tempting.
A quick detour. This breakfast vs meditation dilemma has reminded me of reading Homer (which I did after seeing 'Troy'). For most of 'The Odyssey' both Homer and Ulysses curse the 'bellies' of men, the real and metaphorical appetites that take our eyes off the real goals in life (or the spiritual ball) and bring about hubris, pride, ego and ruin. The 'cursed belly of man' is a strong and consistent theme in 'The Odyssey'.
I can't imagine anyone is still reading this ('How I learned to fall into nothingness and stop thinking about Eggs and Cheese') but again I want to thank these teachers - Anna Ashby, Sri Swami, Danny Paradise and Jules Paxton - all of whom at least prodded me in what I hope is the right direction.
and again can't praise the private yoga teachers i've been getting from YOGAsimple they are a really great agency supplying world class teachers for private classes in london.
Wednesday, 23 May 2007
Thursday, 17 May 2007
a day in the life
things i love about ashtanga
I have noticed that the ashtanga practice is like a day in minature. It is a regular, routine cycle that begins with sunrise and the salutes to the sun and ends, after a 'day' of work, with a moon-like nightcalm as you settle down in Savasana and maybe even sleep.
I love the completeness of this cycle. As a metaphor it is a day in the life and also an entire life, perhaps, from birth to death.
And also I have been struggling with Mari D (again) so if the practice represents a day or even an entire life then it can be just as frustrating and difficult as life. Although it ends, calmly (for me anyway) with inversions, the corpse and a final surrender of the self to deeper currents, to the space inbetween thoughts, perhaps to forces outside and beyond the self.
And also that surrender acknowledges that there are poses I can't achieve and perhaps will never achieve. Every day, every morning I have to face that. Every morning I confront the limits of my ability and have to stop and face the finishing sequence which I imagine represents (or is) death and prayer and sleep.
Is the practice a useful metaphor for life...we work, we struggle, succeed/fail, reach a point where we have to stop (the pose you just cannot achieve) and then surrender, blisfully (we hope) to the finishing sequence.
I am wondering if my life will be like that. Will I work and work and work and then finally, admit defeat or exhausation or completion and surrender, as a real corpse (or just about to be corpse), to a deeper, darker current that dissolves the self.
What a thing to face every morning! Every morning you run through the day and your life in minature...I think that is very beautiful.
I have noticed that the ashtanga practice is like a day in minature. It is a regular, routine cycle that begins with sunrise and the salutes to the sun and ends, after a 'day' of work, with a moon-like nightcalm as you settle down in Savasana and maybe even sleep.
I love the completeness of this cycle. As a metaphor it is a day in the life and also an entire life, perhaps, from birth to death.
And also I have been struggling with Mari D (again) so if the practice represents a day or even an entire life then it can be just as frustrating and difficult as life. Although it ends, calmly (for me anyway) with inversions, the corpse and a final surrender of the self to deeper currents, to the space inbetween thoughts, perhaps to forces outside and beyond the self.
And also that surrender acknowledges that there are poses I can't achieve and perhaps will never achieve. Every day, every morning I have to face that. Every morning I confront the limits of my ability and have to stop and face the finishing sequence which I imagine represents (or is) death and prayer and sleep.
Is the practice a useful metaphor for life...we work, we struggle, succeed/fail, reach a point where we have to stop (the pose you just cannot achieve) and then surrender, blisfully (we hope) to the finishing sequence.
I am wondering if my life will be like that. Will I work and work and work and then finally, admit defeat or exhausation or completion and surrender, as a real corpse (or just about to be corpse), to a deeper, darker current that dissolves the self.
What a thing to face every morning! Every morning you run through the day and your life in minature...I think that is very beautiful.
Monday, 7 May 2007
John Stirk workshop. Deconstructing Yoga.
John Stirk workshop at Triyoga.
Now this was interesting. I have been taking classes for a while at Triyoga that describe themselves (loosely) as Scaravelli influened yoga as inspired by John Stirk (or some similar relationship).
And what that means is a kind of slow-motion, exploratory yoga. Stirk’s workshop was titled ‘Deconstructing Yoga’. It was interesting and is certainly like no other yoga class. And its hard, on reflection, to know where the two hours went as we only did about six or seven poses. Maybe eight but it felt like six or seven.
Stirk talked about Iyengar and the possibility that the spirt can be found or perhaps reached through the body – or at least that is my crude paraphrase of John’s teaching. He also talked about the feet, about the ‘Oriental foot’ and the importance of being able to move all of our toes, even the little toes and to work the whole foot, stretching from the centre.
So there was some work in ‘mountain’ just working the foot. And typical of the class was the way John took us into supta padangusthasana and supta padangusthasana II which was…slowly, very very slowly.
So we entered the poses slowly and stayed for minutes…ages and ages…during which time he asked us to think about the areas or places in the body that we weren’t working…perhaps not sinking the shoulders back, straightening the leg, flexing a toe…whatever…
He talked about tension and adrenalin. He said that where you had fear or tension in a pose (which was probably also where you resisted working) this created adrenalin. He wasn’t saying this was a bad thing. He just said this happened.
He also told us that we should keep our minds calm and our faces calm and peaceful in the pose. No matter how much adrenalin/tension we were feeling. And no matter how hard we were working a knee or shoulder that didn’t want to be worked. The face and mind must be calm. I tried to make mine blissful. Which was very revealing/explosive/beautiful and interesting…its something I’m going to hang onto in all of my practice.
And what he finally said was that the adrenalin would resolve itself or turn into endorphins and the tension would resolve itself or become love…and we would all feel love.
And that is what I felt. An overwhelming bliss or love. I apologise if I haven’t transmitted John’s teachings as he teaches them…I guess I am giving you my experience of his teaching. And I hope I get to work with him again. I understand he teaches a regular weekly class in London (you can find details on his website) but I have also been told there is a waiting list to attend.
Now this was interesting. I have been taking classes for a while at Triyoga that describe themselves (loosely) as Scaravelli influened yoga as inspired by John Stirk (or some similar relationship).
And what that means is a kind of slow-motion, exploratory yoga. Stirk’s workshop was titled ‘Deconstructing Yoga’. It was interesting and is certainly like no other yoga class. And its hard, on reflection, to know where the two hours went as we only did about six or seven poses. Maybe eight but it felt like six or seven.
Stirk talked about Iyengar and the possibility that the spirt can be found or perhaps reached through the body – or at least that is my crude paraphrase of John’s teaching. He also talked about the feet, about the ‘Oriental foot’ and the importance of being able to move all of our toes, even the little toes and to work the whole foot, stretching from the centre.
So there was some work in ‘mountain’ just working the foot. And typical of the class was the way John took us into supta padangusthasana and supta padangusthasana II which was…slowly, very very slowly.
So we entered the poses slowly and stayed for minutes…ages and ages…during which time he asked us to think about the areas or places in the body that we weren’t working…perhaps not sinking the shoulders back, straightening the leg, flexing a toe…whatever…
He talked about tension and adrenalin. He said that where you had fear or tension in a pose (which was probably also where you resisted working) this created adrenalin. He wasn’t saying this was a bad thing. He just said this happened.
He also told us that we should keep our minds calm and our faces calm and peaceful in the pose. No matter how much adrenalin/tension we were feeling. And no matter how hard we were working a knee or shoulder that didn’t want to be worked. The face and mind must be calm. I tried to make mine blissful. Which was very revealing/explosive/beautiful and interesting…its something I’m going to hang onto in all of my practice.
And what he finally said was that the adrenalin would resolve itself or turn into endorphins and the tension would resolve itself or become love…and we would all feel love.
And that is what I felt. An overwhelming bliss or love. I apologise if I haven’t transmitted John’s teachings as he teaches them…I guess I am giving you my experience of his teaching. And I hope I get to work with him again. I understand he teaches a regular weekly class in London (you can find details on his website) but I have also been told there is a waiting list to attend.
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