Work in progress

So, times have changed and I have to say that right now I barely recognise my life. But last week I met somebody at my yoga teacher's leaving party who knew my name having recognised me from this blog, and told me that reading it was what led her to seek out the aforementioned teacher. Nice feeling, huh? And it did lead me to wonder a little about blogging, and whether there was time and space for me to have another think about it.

But for anyone who might possibly read this and isn't also my twitter/facebook/actual real-life friend (is there anyone??) things are changing, biiiiig time. Since coming home from Thailand in April I continued working in the yoga centre, but shortly after returning I received a very exciting offer to go back to Purple Valley in Goa for the whole of next season and help to look after the guests. Erm, yes please? 

And then having accepted the job, through a combination of factors I ended up finding a new teacher, who (in a thoroughly appropriate way, I promise) I am head-over-heels crazy about. And then shortly afterwards I started dating, and somehow managed to meet somebody quite wonderful who is now also practicing ashtanga, with my teacher, and is similarly hooked. My practice has changed a lot too, but that's to be expected I suppose as life changes around me at a pace I barely even recognise. 

I try not to be too smug, but some days that's a struggle. And other days I'm just so exhausted from my practice and the tinges of anxiety that threaten about the upcoming 6-month trip that I just don't have it in me to be smug. 

I'm remembering to be grateful.

I'm working on just being in the moment. 

It's a work in progress, shall we say.

New Year ritual

This year at the age of 33, for the first time ever in my life, I spent the evening of 31st December alone and was very very happy to do so. It was enough really just to be home alone, contented and without any need for a big New Year hoop-la (although yes I was playing with my new kindle, and yes it might just possibly be the end of the civilised world as we know it, but also I think I am already in love with it), but then I read this and got a little inspired.

So here is what I am letting go of.

Happy 2012, and may we all let go of those things which do not serve us.

The teacher student relationship, dropbacks and a grown-up gap year

So much time, so little inclination to write here...

Actually that's not quite true; I have the inclination, it just rarely translates to action. There is quite a lot I want to share given that since I last wrote both my life and my practice have been somewhat transformed. I was ruminating on a post about the teacher student relationship last week, which could have been a good'un if I'd got around to it, but the opening of that post was to be this:

To the casual observer of this blog (and how could you be anything else, given the scarcity of my posts?) it may seem that I swing from workshop to workshop, gathering experiences and advice and slightly varying technique wherever I go. In actual fact, although I was perhaps guilty of this in my first year of practice (because I was so convinced that I wouldn't stick with this practice that I was keen to soak up as many experiences as I could before I threw in the towel), this is something I try to avoid. Having found a number of travelling or overseas teachers I gel with, I now try to stick with them. After two weeks with Kino and Tim in Goa this year (having twice previously taken weekend workshops with Kino) I am going to see Tim again in August (and possibly September), and then I will see both of them again next year. But actually, yoga holidays aside, I strongly believe in building a relationship with one teacher. There is something so special involved in finding somebody you can work with day in day out, through injury and stiffness, through bendy days and bereavements, through personal triumphs and professional disasters; finding somebody who knows your body, knows your practice, and (it turns out) seems to know your mind is completely invaluable on this path.

I had the perfect example of this last week. After months of working on backbending (including three months recovering from an injury which prevented me working on them at all) I made a mental connection one day last week which seemed to provide the missing jigsaw piece. I was on my way to work, walking along the road and the question popped into my head "What am I waiting for?" and immediately I answered my own question: I'm waiting for the floor to be closer when I hang back. Having spent a few weeks (maybe less) dropping back to the floor without assistance in February I knew that the further the "drop", the greater the likelihood of hurting my wrists - which was what led me to stop dropping back all those months ago. But I also immediately knew that the floor isn't going to come any closer via my back: I would have to bend my knees. So there and then I made the decision, that's what I will do tomorrow. Of course "tomorrow" came, and I was knackered - I dragged my body through my practice and was tempted to quit before I even got to seated. But finding renewed energy after the Maris (it's amazing how the marichyasana through to garbha section energises you!) I reached the end of my practice, and as I stood hanging back deeply, telling myself to bend my knees, my teacher called to me from the back of the room "Mel - when you get to that point, BEND your knees." 

It was the first time she had ever called out to me to encourage me to try and drop back alone: on the very day I had made all of the mental and physical connections I needed to make to do just that.

So I dropped back. Not once, but three times, with C bringing me to standing after the third. And then we did assisted hangbacks before I again dropped back alone to hold for 5 breaths, walk in, and be brought back to standing again. Afterwards I spoke to her, and told her that she seemed to have read my mind, and she told me that when you build a relationship with a student over a length of time as we have, you get to be able to read just where they are. And I totally get this.

I think this is also the reason that sometimes the day you're given new poses is the day you were going to stay in bed. It's also the reason you sometimes get new poses the very day you had accepted your practice exactly where it was. 

Backbending with Tim in Goa

Anyway, so that was something I wanted to write more about, but that'll do for now. My practice is in a really interested phase now, where dropping back has ceased to be surrounded by trauma or drama, I am just doing it (I'm now 4 days in with my solo drop-backs, so I fully expect the drama to return at some point but for now I'm happy it's gone!). I also seem to be gaining so much awareness in my practice, in all kinds of different areas. And of course that is the point of this whole endeavour, it's not the physical "achievement" of any given asana, but the way in which we approach it, and deal with the fear or discomfort or drama that is the real yoga. So I'm happy that I'm doing some good work at the moment. C and I discussed the approaches yesterday, and she said that for some people they jump into the dark first, and work out the details later, whereas I have worked it all out along the way. So in terms of backbending, when I first began I remember not doing anything - I just allowed myself to be moved in certain ways to do the assisted dropbacks, without finding any of the action in my own strength or engagement (it all just came from natural flexibility). For me the fear came quite a lot later, after I had connected with and opened my back and it started to seem like I should try and drop back on my own. But other phases I needed to go through included "finding" my legs in assisted dropbacks, then REALLY finding them in urdhva danurasana - using a block between my feet to stop them turning out has been utterly invaluable for this, and I credit Claire Missingham for doing this with me in a vinyasa class and making me realise why I was being told everyday "heels out Mel!". On an intellectual level I needed to get to the point of realising that when I released the fear and dropped to the floor I would actually be doing less work. And one day a few weeks ago laziness crept in, and I started to think that the sooner I could do it the better for that reason alone. So now I'm doing it, but trying to control it is difficult, and I said to C that I feel the same way as I did in the initial days of assisted dbs, that I am just "doing" but still need to find what exactly it is that I'm doing. But yesterday she uttered the immortal words "I'm proud of you" and today she told me that each one just gets better, so hopefully day by day I am finding a tiny degree more control. It's all a process.

Off the mat, life is pretty sweet at the moment too.Considering the state I was in back at the beginning of this year, I can scarcely believe how well things turned out. So in April I found myself out of work, and after a couple of months being a lady of leisure (month one: pure bliss! month two: pure boredom and loneliness) a combination of intriguing twists of fate brought me a part-time job working on reception in the largest yoga centre in London. I KNOW!!! It was pretty tough to begin with as there is a huge amount to learn, and being in the front-line as it were you need to be quick, friendly and extremely knowledgeable. I'm now a month and a bit in from my training, and as a general rule, I am absolutely loving it. On Saturday (the hours are pretty anti-social too...) when the next person arrived to relieve me from my shift I had that feeling of "owww, do I really have to go?" - how lucky am I??! The obvious drawback is that working shifts is tough (especially sometimes getting home from work at 11pm and getting up at 5ish to practice the next day - and next month I have a few 5.30am shifts, which mean leaving home at 4.30!), and there are a few challenging dynamics to work through, not to mention the financial aspect of doing a job like this, but the benefits completely outweigh them. And as I'm working only twenty hours a week, I have all this time to just do as I please...I have read so many books, been a lot more social than normal, visited my family, not to mention the extra yoga classes and treatments I can take advantage of at my place of work (half the time I'm there even when I'm not working!). The obvious answer of course would be to switch my mysore practice there as well (which would be far more cost effective) but aside from the fact that I'd have to travel twice as far to practice each day, how could I throw out the relationship I just wrote a whole post about? 

So things are working out pretty well. I'm thrilled that my belief that "something would come up" seems to be working so far, and my loose plan at the moment is to take a whole year out from my previous 9-5 existence, and see where it takes me by April next year. But I have to say, given that I am sitting at home with a coffee writing this post before heading off for afternoon tea and cakes with my fellow new-trainee colleagues, and then possibly taking a class with a highly popular and slightly swoon-worthy teacher this evening: life is pretty sweet.

Are you here for yoga?

Standing on the doorstep of YP at 7.45am (no chance I was sleeping through today), showered, coffee-ed up and ready to practice, I'm trying to work out whether I rang the bell right & nobody answered (should I buzz again? impatience isn't very yogic...) when a smiling face comes walking towards me. "Are you here for yoga?" Yes, I say, I'm not sure if I'm meant to buzz? "maybe nobody's here yet" she says, pulling keys from her bag and opening the door "I'm Cary".

Ahh, the famous Cary, so beloved of the London branch of the cybershala, and very definitely built up in my estimation without my ever having actually met her. Not necessarily a good thing, as far as I'm concerned - great expectations can mean great disappointment. Thankfully I hadn't said anything stupid before I knew it was her (which is always a good start - I am brilliant at putting my foot in it with someone I assume to be the teacher only for them to turn out to be another student and - worse - vice versa). I was surprised to find only one other person there, but Cary talked me through how things work - shower through there, practice room here, tea here, fill out this form, put your money in the box & write your name in the book, pausing halfway through to ask "You've done this before, right?". I explained that I have been practicing in the evenings and it was working for me before but now it's not, which she agreed happens. So I spent the next 15 minutes carefully avoiding starting my practice, taking ages to get changed (why did I put my vest on under my other clothes? it just saved me time I could have done with spending!), filling out my form, and basically procrastinating, not wanting to be one of only two people in the room. As Cary came in to the changing room to light incense I confessed what I was doing, and so bit the bullet and went in to start.

When I was on my fifth sury A I was surprised not to have heard creaking floorboards signalling an adjustemnt, but then Cary came over as I went into downdog and asked where my form was (I was supposed to bring it into the room with me) so I scooted off to get it - of course, no adjustments until she's seen my form to know whether I have any injuries (very smart). As it turned out, lack of adjustments was the last thing I needed to be worried about! Starting on my surya B's I went into downdog again and saw her out of the corner of my eye leaning on the back wall behind me, and my first thought was I'm in trouble here...
I have a deep-seated issue with surya B which I have been trying to get over but just had a feeling I wouldn't be getting away with anything. So my first downdog adjustment was straightforward enough, a push on the hips, just the right amount of pressure, but also a tap on the fingers of my left hand which weren't pressed into the floor. The second one however was new to me and turned things upside down...

Crouching behind me, she put her hands about a six inches further back than my feet and said "DON'T move your hands! bring your feet to my hands", and my first thought was HOW? I have been told once by a sub teacher at AYL that my downdog wasn't long enough, but really that much?? And I have always shuffled my hands and feet in a bit, plus of course the way I was doing it my heels were just able to connect with the floor. But in this new longer stance everything felt different, my head felt like it was practically on the ground and jumping forward from there seemed like I had miles to cover. Of course every down dog after that I was aware of where her hands had been and where I needed to be, and how different it felt. How could I have been doing it this wrong for all this time?

Padangusthasana - another adjustment, knees straightened, arm position slightly adjusted. Trikonasana sequence - surely I was going to get pummelled here? No! Feeling like I'd got away with it I went into Prasarita Padottanasana and realised how much closer the ground is to my head these days. Funnily enough I'd been worried as this was my first full morning in an age (since Sharath in August in fact) that I would have no flexibility but I found it almost straight away, even with my hamstrings still tight from Wednesday's return to practice - something about the energy in the room, I'm sure of it.

Parsvottanasana and again, more flexibility than I am used to through my shoulders, and on to the dreaded Utthita Hasta Pandangusthasana. I am so used to getting a full assist in that pose I am convinced that I'm incapable of doing it by myself. Anyway I got started, but C was soon there and my leg was hoisted higher than ever before to shoulder height. And here's where it got tricky - she stood on one leg and pushed my knee on my standing leg straight with her foot. She took her foot away, my knee bent again. And again. And...yeah you get it. I wanted to scream it's the only thing keeping me upright! As we got to C she held my leg up (at AYL you are left with this one) and then she stepped away and told me to hold for one breath. I returned my foot to the floor but at an angle, got a micro-adjustment to straighten my feet, and then back up through the same thing on the left side as she miraculously gave me about 4 adjustments at a time - leg up, knee straight, head turned, corrected toe grab - and I'm sure there was a fifth but goodness only knows what else it could be. Then it was into Ardha Baddha Padangusthasana without the security of a wall in front of me but although I was wobby going into it I didn't topple, and on the left side actually managed to hold onto my toe until I was back upright (normally I can only catch it halfway down and let go on my way up to stop myself falling).

I had decided to do the rolling out the towel at Dandasana thing to stop me tripping up in standing as I was doing on Wednesday, so I rolled it out and went through my five breaths, and into half lotus for Janu Sirsasana A and was 4 breaths in before realising I had skipped the whole paschimottanasana/ purvottanasana sequence (and this is even after checking this bit in David Swenson last night as I always forget there's a vinyasa in there!) so I went back and in paschimo B got a full-on I-want-to-scream adjustment (I knew I'd be grateful for it later though). And if I thought my inclined plane was getting away with any sloppiness I had another thing coming as she came and leant on my toes, and then I was into seated.

All went well apart from me getting my sides wrong with Marichyasana D, probably because I was distracted and wondering whether Cary would come and help me - I can usually just about bind on the right but flail around on the left and nine time out of ten get help, but would rather have it for the whole thing as the twist is so much less when I only just catch my fingers. Anyway, distracted, I put my right foot into half lotus first and struggled but just caught my fingers, realising this was the side I normally struggled with and this normally comes second. So I went back to the right side, bound around my fingers, vinyasa and into the left and hurrah! I caught my fingers and even felt the twist - so maybe a ratio of 2 left to 1 right is the way to nail it! Anyway it's good to know that I CAN make it without needing assistance (even if it feels better with help).

And then I made my next sequencing slip-up and completely forgot navasana, only remembering when I was already partway through closing - I don't know what this was all about, I very rarely miss anything out or start off on the wrong side, I can only put it down to being distracted by being in a new place.

Anyway bhujapidasana was the usual mess, and I thought about asking for help and explanation but decided against it - I'll just practice it badly and see if she spots it was my chosen approach, so I did it twice (badly) but I do start to feel like something might be coming with it. As I said afterwards I have probably only tried it a dozen times if that, so I don't know why I'm giving myself a hard time that I haven't magically got it yet.

And then closing - at AYL you move to another room to close, so it felt nice to be able to stay on my mat and just flow through it, though it will take a bit of getting used to that there are still all the sounds of people practicing around you - especially as I'm sure I heard Susan doing her famous finger-breaking Nakrasana and I was dying to take a peek! But also being in another room has allowed me the safety net (i.e. allowed me to get away with) doing my headtstands at the wall. I have such a mental block with this: I WANT to be able to do it, really I do, but I also want to get away with not doing it. So am I going to ask for help? no siree. Am I going to do a headstand preparation up on tippy-toes and see if I get caught out? Ohhhhh yes. And for today, no comment and thus, no headstand. But in childs' pose afterwards (hey, I'd still been upsidedown, I still get to do it) Cary throws a towel over me and does this fabulous massage all down my neck and back, and then I'm into full lotus with relative ease (what's going on today?) and my closing three postures, and rest.

And wouldn't you know it, for the first time in absolutely months I get one of those moments in savasana. The best way to describe it is is being like when you are waiting for the sun to come up, but it already looks light so you wonder what difference the sunrise is going to make. And then it breaks and WOW, suddenly everything looks different. That's what these moments are like. I have only had a few of them, but you feel relaxed and then suddenly, the sun comes from behind a cloud and you feel inexplicably calm and peaceful, and a slow smile spreads across your face. The only problem is as soon as it happens, my brain starts with the "oh my god! It's happening! I'm having one of those moments!" and of course it's gone, but the memory of it and the smile remain.

The added bonus of my practice today was that I'd made a plan to have coffee with Globie afterwards - I'd recognised him from his videos and exhanged smiles across the room (Kevin I hope you got that mine was a "yes I'm Mel!" smile!). I was also on the lookout for Susan as I'd promised to make myself known and despite mistaking somebody else for her initially, as soon as I saw limbs bending in unnatural directions I knew it was her - we just had time to say hi before she had to rush off. This is part of what's been missing for me at AYL - I'm sure if you go there all the time it's friendly, but being as sporadic as I've been with it I have barely ever spoken to anybody there. They had a sign up about their christmas party and although I thought I'd be a nice idea, I knew there'd be no point in me going as I wouldn't know anybody. So two hours good company and yoga chat over breakfast in an east end greasy spoon cafe after practice was a welcome change, and it was great to put a name to a face. It's funny that this should come up now though because last night I read this passage in Iyengar's Light on Life:

"Practitioners of the asanas alone often forget yoga is for cultivating the head and heart. Pantanjali talked about friendliness, compassion, gladness, and joy. Friendliness and grace are two qualities that are essential for the yoga student. In yoga class, students often look so serious and so separate from one another. Where is the friendliness?...Where is the joy? Without these, we have not achieved the true yoga of Pantanjali".

So forgive me for the hugely long post (if anybody's still reading), but it feels like today was a bit of a red letter day for me. I think I just found my teacher.