10,000 Vinyasas

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.