10,000 Vinyasas

“Yoga makes the impossible possible…”

What does this mean?

Posters, the floor is yours…

I want to explore what I think is one of the major areas of opposition in practicing yoga: the contrast between the “first, do no harm” perspective, as exemplified by gentle/restorative/YogaFit, and the “more challenge” point of view, as propagated by such systems of thought as Ashtanga yoga and the cover and pictorial content of magazines like Yoga Journal. It seems to me that these contrasting perspectives are in conflict, or at least there’s a tension between them. I think of listening to David Williams, having done Ashtanga yoga for 40 years, expounding on his strongly held beliefs that yoga should never hurt, that injuries are worse than counterproductive, and yoga is ultimately a means to an end: meditation, while at the same time being surrounded at that particular studio by photos of extreme achievements in yoga performed by persons with, shall we say, attractive physical development. Similarly, although it devotes print space to meditation, finding inner peace, and restorative yoga poses, the underlying message of the pictorial representations in Yoga Journal might lead one to conclude that achieving these ultimate expressions is in fact, the goal of practicing yoga. As a further example, one of the posters here recently took issue with the strict Mysore practice of stopping a student when a pose could not be fully attained and sending them directly to the closing sequence, pointing out that it seemed to make the attainment of asanas the end result of practicing.

Well, I’m sure that no serious Ashtanga practitioner would concede that attaining particular asanas or sequences are the goals of the practice, and theoretically, I’m sure that’s true. It’s just that there does seem to be an effect, even if unintended, that results in students desiring to be able to attain “flashy” poses that look good (presumably for a camera), without realizing that those poses are simply expressions of the amount of work and practice undertaken, sometimes over long periods of time. It’s perfectly natural to feel positive about one’s “progress” in yoga, especially if that is expressed by ability to practice difficult asanas or sequences with more ease, but we should realize that indulging these feelings detracts from attaining the more ephemeral benefits of yoga: a calmer mind, more positive energy, greater facility in the rest of our lives, peace and serenity. Pictorial representations ought to be looked at as inspirational only; as an example of how the pose could look, nothing more. Teachers and practitioners of aggressive, athletic systems of yoga like Ashtanga should continually remind themselves and their students of the non-attachment to achieving poses.

Closely related to this, I think, is the lack of understanding among beginning students as to how wide the horizon is in yoga; in other words, some poses are so difficult or require so much opening of the body that one’s progress can only be measured, if at all, in millimeters, and over months or even years. This should not be discouraging; on the contrary, it is exactly the reason that yoga is a lifelong practice: one is never finished.

On the other hand, rarely venturing outside one’s comfort zone (which is as inaccurate in describing the gentle perspective as characterizing Ashtanga as achievement-oriented is, but still, there’s some truth in it) unduly limits one’s potential to challenge our bodies and minds, to go deeper into poses, and to find hidden abilities to attain poses previously thought impossible. In other words, if you never practice it, you’ll never do it. Worse, you may put more faith in the misleading thoughts that run through your head; you know, the ones that say you will never be able to practice this pose. In particular, yoga skill is not particularly dependent on age, even though some younger, more flexible people can more easily do some poses, many older people find themselves attaining higher levels of asanas than they ever thought possible, while others who are handcuffed by their thoughts of ageism, unnecessarily limit themselves.

With all of the above, I’m prepared to offer some conclusions:

1. Yoga is all about balance; therefore, there should be some balance between extreme physical asanas and gentle, restorative types of yoga.

2. Injuries, although they may teach us about ourselves and help us develop more empathy for other practitioners’ physical infirmities, by and large are counterproductive to yoga practice and ought to be avoided when possible. One of the ways to avoid injury is to be especially mindful of the messages the body sends to the mind. Extreme physical exertions ought to be followed by rest (see balance, above).

3. It would behoove the editors of certain publications to use less glamorous models in their visual depictions.

4. There is value is challenging one’s progress in yoga; in particular, yoga practice is an active, evolving thing, as one’s abilities change (whether through age or skill). Being satisfied and content with one’s practice is not the same as becoming complacent or static.

5. It is valuable and inspirational to view live representations of difficult poses, through one’s teacher or other practitioners. In particular, safe ways of getting into difficult poses should be pursued.

6. Since yoga is (or ought to be) a lifetime practice, a longer term view is useful when encountering poses that pose particular challenges and resist mastery. If it takes months or years, so be it.

7. Since yoga is an individual practice, every one has the responsibility of discovering ones’ strengths, weaknesses and issues, and what to do about them. Teachers can provide much guidance, but ultimately, no one knows your body and mind the way you do.

A clarification: it was not my intent in this post to take to task Ashtanga yoga, a system of asanas and ways of thought that I greatly admire. My concern here is that the rather extreme athleticism that practicing Ashtanga entails can frequently lead to injuries, and indeed, Ashtanga has an unfortunate reputation of causing physical damage, when applied in the wrong circumstances. What I mean by wrong circumstances are misunderstandings by students and teachers as to the proper attitude concerning the asanas. Because of its physically demanding nature, Ashtanga is acutely vulnerable to such misconceptions, especially among newer practitioners. The style is also particularly prone to overly aggressive teachers, who push students into poses they aren’t ready for, or adjust too roughly. Here, I do have some experience, both with injuries (knee, shoulder) and contact with overly aggressive adjustments, so I suppose I’m offering up this post as a sort of cautionary tale.

I’ve arrived! Something that I’ve thought about for a long time, but never really aimed for, has come to me: I’ve been asked to teach the Saturday morning vinyasa class at Yoga Shala, starting in August. This is especially meaningful for me because I used to attend this class religiously when my teacher Ken led it, not to mention that I believe, with quite a bit of justification, that Yoga Shala is the premier yoga studio in San Antonio. Quite an honor. Everyone has been so nice and supportive, and although it will be a challenge, it’s something that will both fit my schedule and give me an extra dimension to my teaching. Thank you, Ana, for giving me this chance! In other news, I will be teaching yoga at Lululemon on Saturday, July 17, as part of their “Spectrum Rogers Ranch” month. I’ve always wondered what that would be like, so I guess now I’ll find out.

This causes me to reflect, again, on how I got here. It’s interesting to me that my approach to yoga (well, this implies some intention that perhaps I didn’t have) was just to do more and more, and be open to expanding my knowledge by taking whatever workshops and classes I was attracted to (and there were many). I really didn’t think much about “goals” or direction of any kind; I just did whatever I could to enhance my yoga practice. I’m still amazed at the places yoga has taken me: teaching yoga on tv, teaching yoga in general, acro-yoga, Lululemon, and everything else that has happened. It’s so different from the rest of my life (yes, I know I’ve said that before, but still); everything planned out and set in concrete. I suppose that’s what a second career should be: fun and without all the ambition and purpose (and anxiety) that drives you at the beginning of your first career. I have no idea where else yoga is going to take me, and that’s part of the mystery and fun of the practice.

I don’t trust my local grocery chain. As I’ve become more aware of the evils of the industrial food system, Big Agriculture, and the ubiquity of corn and soy products in processed foods (along with all the other harmful ingredients), I’ve also noticed that the local grocery is pretty much a cheerleader for catering to people’s ignorance and worst impulses when it comes to food. Here, we are speaking of processed meats, products containing white flour and sugar, and horrendously fatty “fresh” food offerings. Further, in contrast to, say, Whole Foods, I perceive that profit, from selling whatever, is singularly the chain’s primary motivation. Hence, they are late and reluctant to stock organic and local produce, doing this only as a sop to some of their customers. As business people, they are ruthlessly predatory, driving out almost every other major chain from San Antonio (the exception is Walmart and Target, not exactly paragons of virtue themselves). In my view, it’s not too difficult to delve beneath the superficial cheeriness and relentless “low price” propaganda and see the essential greediness sucking up the resources and health of the captive, oblivious citizenry. In addition to Whole Foods, we do happen to have a couple of smaller specialty stores which stock a lot more fresh local products (Green Fields, Sun Harvest). Not that these are perfect (nor is Costco, another place I frequent, for the fresh produce, mostly), but they are a damn sight better than the sneaky, fake grocery chain that dominates the retail landscape here.

When it comes to beer, I’m a big hops fan. Big, hoppy IPAs make me smile and my taste buds applaud. There’s nothing better than visiting the Oregon Brewer’s Festival, a mecca for hops-loving beer nerds like me. I’ve liked Sierra Nevada’s Pale Ale, and their seasonal Celebration Ale is just about the best beer on the planet, in my totally subjective opinion, so this particular beer had some interest for me. I liked the coppery color, and the hops are plentiful. Nice big bitter taste. This is on par with Stone and Lagunitas, two California brewers who specialize in the American hoppy IPA style. Not quite the flavor and complexity of Celebration Ale, but still pretty darn good. The Sierra Nevada appellation suggests that one can find it on sale every so often, and so it was for the six pack I picked up the other day: $7.23. 7.2% ABV. Nice. Verdict: You could do a lot worse for this price. Of course, we do patronize local breweries who make their own fresh beer (see blogroll), but this is perfectly fine for store-bought beer.

I have, on occasion, recommended to students that they visit a local studio (since I practice at one, specifically, I recommended that one). Such suggestions, by and large, have fallen flat. Reflecting upon my own transition from “gym yoga” classes to those at a studio causes me to realize that making a change like this looms a bit larger in peoples minds than I realized at first. Here are some possible reasons yoga students find it difficult to make that jump:

1. It’s an added expense. When you’re used to paying a monthly fee for all facilities and classes at a gym, and you contemplate paying for every yoga class at a studio, it requires you to create a little more space in your budget, which people may be unable or reluctant to do. The counter to this, of course, is that, generally, the quality of instruction at a yoga studio is going to be higher (sometimes, quite a bit higher), and so the extra expense is justified, but that’s not necessarily visible to someone who hasn’t yet experienced the yoga studio.

2. It’s another unfamiliar environment. People imagine (I suppose) that they are not skilled enough to walk into a yoga studio and begin practicing, perhaps thinking that the students as well as the instructors are at a much higher level than they are. This, with some qualifications, is simply wrong. There is a bit of self-selection in the clientele of a yoga studio, but by and large, there are just as many mixed level classes and students in studios as there are in gyms. On the other hand, the classes at a yoga studio tend to be more stratified in terms of difficulty, and studios are quite open about what those differing levels of difficulty are, which of course leads to one being able to choose a suitable class more carefully. I’ve been to studios for the first time and indicated that I wanted to attend a particular class, and was questioned by the person signing me up as to my abilities and experience, which I appreciated since it was clear that they didn’t want me to end up in a class that was beyond my capabilities.

3. Classes may not be offered at convenient times. It’s mostly true, except for perhaps the most popular yoga studios, that class schedules tend to be limited, and the location may not be as convenient either. Again, the reluctance here is probably due to not experiencing the value of the instruction and overall experience firsthand. Someone who has may be more inclined to overcome logistical issues.

4. There are undoubtedly some people who are more comfortable with certain aspects of “gym yoga,” i.e., the lack of chanting, mantras, Sanskrit, etc. These people are the ones who tend to mistake these aspects of yoga as religious attempts to convert them, when yoga is nothing of the kind. Not wanting to be judgmental here, and avoiding the sensitive topic of religion, I would just note that these people are incorrect in their prejudice. No one will ever seek to replace/supplant someone else’s religious beliefs in yoga. Of course, people who believe this are probably not going to change their minds, and probably shouldn’t visit a yoga studio anyway.

I view finding and practicing at a yoga studio as another step in the journey that begins with your first yoga class. When the time comes, your mind and body will let you know. Don’t let these mental objections overcome the exhilaration of taking that next step.

This is a post on why I don’t like using walls to teach headstands and handstands. First of all, I understand that instructors may be kind of forced into using a wall if they have a large class and that’s really the only feasible way to get everybody involved, as opposed to working one on one. I still believe, though, that the wall has some significant disadvantages, leading to a lack of success among people trying to attain these difficult inversions. I also suspect that many instructors lack the technical expertise to actually teach the correct forms of these poses (through no fault of their own, of course; it seems like there’s a lack of expertise in this area of yoga generally). That being said, the first objection I have to using the wall is that it encourages people to “kick up” into head and handstand. This kind of sudden movement into an inversion is undesirable, since it creates some (perhaps too much!) momentum which must then be countered with opposing momentum (read: movement) resulting in greater difficulty in setting down into the pose and attaining the correct form. Inversions and all forms of balancing in yoga should be approached with slow steadiness rather than sudden movements, which cause loss of control and falling over. Second and most important, using the wall the way it’s taught most of time, i.e, with placing the hands or arms two or more feet away from the wall, encourages arching of the back as the leg or legs go up. I’ve seen this so, so many times in yoga classes: student kicks up into wall, tries to straighten legs or bring legs away from wall, but the arched back almost immediately compels student to come right back down. Let me say this clearly: it is impossible to attain stability in head or handstand with an arched back. The back must be straight and flat. It’s just so much more difficult to come into the proper form if you’re already up there with your back in the wrong position. Some women, with their greater control over their musculature, have little difficulty kicking up into headstand, but I believe in the Iyengar method of walking the feet up towards the hips until the toes come off the floor, bending the knees and holding there until you feel comfortable enough to slowly straighten the legs. Teaching handstand almost requires you to assist a student one at a time, so you can hold/adjust them into the proper position. Well,that’s it. I’d sure like to hear from more experienced people about whether they agree with my views on this.