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.

MIA and total inspiration.

I know, I know...the bujapidasana bootcamp post I promised never came. And yes, I have pages of notes from my 2 weeks with tim & Kino (which when I read I think "wow! I'm so glad I wrote that down as I don't remember hearing it!"). And yes, my last post was all "woe is me I've got an in injury and feel like crap" but that feeling lasted half a day and lately I've been feeling pretty fabulous about my practice & life in general. But I have to just bash out an off-the-cuff as-it-happened post right now.

Bujapidasana bootcamp teaser...

Being a bank holiday weekend, and our teacher not really back from maternity leave, our shala was closed today, so several of my shala-mates were suggesting different options of where to practice (having a lie-in NOT being an option, especially as tomorrow is the moon day here). Although we are about to lose one of our 2 certified teachers in London and I've yet to visit the one who is leaving, I didn't feel a strong draw to go and try her out. Several reasons really; firstly I feel like I have had a LOT of different teachers lately. Tim and Kino, both fabulous, but both different to each-other, and to my normal teacher, then coming back to London we had two teachers covering C's maternity leave. The first I liked on a personal level but didn't click with the teaching at ALL, the second was returning having taught us all last summer and I lovelovelove. But with another few weeks until C returns fully we have a fabulous shalamate covering the next few weeks, and I already feel like I am entering the flip-out zone of needing to stick with people I know (the shalamate currently assists and is fabulous, so this isn't an issue). But going just for one day to visit yet another different teacher? Nah. Overkill says my brain.

Plus, I seem to have entered a new zone of practice. I don't know if this is because the lower back pain has temporarily suspended my work on dropbacks (I'm just seeing how I feel each day, but generally if I feel it in urdhva dhanurasana, then no dropping back that day), or if it's to do with having now been doing full primary for 5 months or so. But I have gone into this inward focused, deeeeep and amazing version of practice. On any given day I may become completely obsessed with my TOES. Imagine an alien (or a baby maybe) discovering toes for the first time - I notice them as I roll over them, I feel this amazing connection, I put the energy there and just trip out on it. Another day it was keeping my legs engaged and lifted in every posture, especially in upward dog and maintaining the lift in my thighs, and discovering the difference it made to jumping forward. Another day (actually, every day to an extent) it was finding the lift in mula bandha, realising that forward bends come from there and not the hamstrings at all. Point is, I feel like I am surrounded with AHA! moments and profound realisations of the connections my body is making with itself, with the mat, with my mind...and going deeper and deeper inwards, realising (most importantly) that whether or not I drop back, move on, or whatever it is matters not one bit. I have my whole life for this.

So it was with this in mind that I decided to go instead to my lovely former evening teacher R on my travelling ashtangi day - not a new teacher,I reasoned, and I love to get back to her if ever I can. Then yesterday I remembered that she was hosting a workshop which I had originally been incredibly excited about; Peter Sanson, an old-school certified teacher from New Zealand was going to be teaching 4 days of mysore practice in a very low-key venue over the long weekend. I had whooped with excitement when I heard he was coming, having heard amazing things about him from my Yoga Thailand roomie, but as the time grew closer (and my employment status being what it is - ie I still don't have a job) plus this clashing with C's planned return from maternity leave, I "sensibly" opted not to book a place. Fast forward to yesterday, and lovely friend J encouraged me to text the teacher and ask if she was teaching in the evening as usual. The reply came straight back: no, but there's space on the workshop if you want to come. So what could I say but yes please and I'll see you there?! She asked me to come at 10am, so even better, I got to sleep in, take a salt bath and do some bed-hanging before I set off across London.

So after a restful and relaxed start, I arrived, changed and walked into a very full room, hesitating as to where to lay my mat. As both Peter and R were busy I found a corner to tuck my bag in only to realise that the person I'd put it in front of was an old friend who I met in India last January! She flashed me a big smile, I blew her a kiss, and walked back to find somewhere to practice. Peter walked towards me, took my mat from me, loudly said to a guy in the front row "Swami! You move!" then sort of gave the girl to his right a little kick to get her to move over and unrolled my mat for me - the wrong way up. I was at this point more than a little daunted, I have to say. But there was my spot, right up front, so I got going. Feeling rather shaky I decided not to chant aloud (I always do, no matter what else is going on in the room) but stood with my hands in prayer so thrown that I couldn't even remember the chant. But the anxiety dissipated quickly enough. Peter commanded the room verbally, but not in a distracting way at all. No, it was in a way that made me feel that even if I received not one adjustment, a combination of his energy, the group energy, and the things he said would have led to a transformational practice. "Breathing, no straining; breathing" he said in his thick kiwi accent, tinged with the Indian lilt of one who has spent many many years in Mysore. "Swami, you wait for me", "See, it's easy, you make it so complicated, everybody does!" to the lady doing kapotasana,  "oh so good - good! He is too good, no?" with the unaffected indian twang to R and then back to walking around the room, saying seemingly to us all "breathing, breathing, don't lose the connection with the breath, no straining". Meanwhile I was working my way through my surya namaskar with a huge smile on my face, trying not to allow the thought of "why didn't I do the whole weekend? this is amazing!" to take over my thoughts.

There was something seriously magical happening in that room that it isn't going to be possible to conjure up in words.

I can't remember where I was up to in my practice when he stood in front of me and just put his hand and my back and made some sort of affirmative comment, then the same thing again a little later. I love this, it's a bit like being patted on the head (a la Tim Feldman) but it tells you that they are here, and somehow from the right teacher even that small gesture of laying on hands does something for you. I got the beginning of my first adjustment in UHP, but he asked R to come and take over as he looked after a conveyer-belt of Marichyasana bindings, funnily enough he bossed her about in a forceful way "Here! this one! Now!" but the energy certainly wasn't bossy, or strict, it was just...oh I don't know, amaaaazing. This is probably getting a little tired, me just raving about him but unable to tell you why...

Anyhoo, having been asked to come and start at 10am when the start-time was 9, while I was still on my standing asanas I realised that many people seemed to be finishing (or close to it). Then somebody left, and was asked were they not staying for the talk? And I heard "Five minutes" and started to panic. It was just before 11am and on my usual schedule I had about another hour of my practice still to run, but were we finishing up in 5 minutes? But 11.00 came and went, and people were still practicing, though as I began my seated asanas I heard Peter telling several people who I knew (or sensed) usually practiced full primary to stop and go onto backbending even though they had only got to navasana (or maybe a little further). So then I had the fear that either he was going to tell me to stop, or that I was going to run out of time, but either way that I wouldn't finish my practice and get to do backbending. But then given my new "I've got my whole life" take on practice, the answer to that of course is "so what?". It was actually kind of funny though, after adjusting two girls to my right in Mari D he told them both to do backbending, One obliged, the other went in search of the water bottle and did garbha pindasana. As she was in kukkutasana he came and stood in front of her and said "What happened? I said backbending! nice try!" but make no mistake, the spirit in which he was stopping people, and calling them out was on the basis that as he said to these two girls "You ran out of steam. Whatever energy you have left, reserve it for your backbending". Why should it be seem as a judgement on your practice if somebody says that to you? I think we all have days like that, so maybe we'd do better to listen to them sometimes instead of forging on through come what may.

Inevitably as the room thinned out, and more and more people took savasana, I started to get more attention. In Mari D I took my wrist on each side and he came to me on the second side and said "You've really got that one, beautiful. Now, boat!". I carried on through my practice. As I reached kurmasana, I took a deep position, my legs squeezing the sides of my ribcage and chin on the floor, knowing that at R's shala, everyone gets adjusted in this pose. In the past I have rushed to put myself into supta k just to show that I can; today I knew not to. But here it started to get funny, he pulled my legs in, took one arm around and then I tried to get involved. No no, he says, wiggling my leg around, I'm trying to bend your leg, you trying to straighten it - so of course what I had to do was just surrender and be adjusted. My left leg was hooked behind my neck "Oh, you love this one here" he said - which, given that I have been trying to figure out how to hook my left leg behind my neck from the floor (though everyone tells me it's barely possible) was interesting. My right leg flipped on top, he told me to take the right arm around, and then he got onto me about tension in my hands, shoulders and breath. The thing is, when you try and try to get something like the bind in supta kurmasana (even though I've been doing it now since last summer, there is still effort involved) you may not even realise there is tension there. But he wiggled my arm, made me loosen up, then told me to breathe: "No: full DEEP breaths...breathing" and I became aware that my breath was a little shallow, and very shaky. I watched it, it deepened it, I smoothed it out. "Now hands to the front," and I brought my hands forward, trying desperately not to slip on the insanely ice-rink like floor (this is not a dedicated yoga room, and every inch of the floor was a skid-pan) and then with his support, I lifted up in dwi pada (first time in - err, practically forever), then went through tittibasana, bakasana and just about jumped back into chaturanga, finishing with my head between his legs. We had a giggle and then he told me to take lotus, so without vinyasa I went into garbha p, he stood in front of me as I sprayed my arms and got into it, super-deep with my hands firmly on my chin and my ears closed with my middle fingers before he walked away and left me to it. 

In baddha konasana my head was wriggled about like a rag doll. "Too much tension! Let it go! What is this right shoulder doing? so tense here, let go, let go" (more head wiggling, right shoulder poking) - apparently the left shoulder was behaving, but the right one wasn't. I hung out there for a very long time, not really sure if I was being adjusted in A or B (it started as A and sort of became B I think) but it seems that my method of using the elbows to push the thigh down, which I think was as I was taught, was introducing too much tension on my right side. I can't remember now, but I think it was in supta k that the tension was also evident on my right side, so now he had started to notice a pattern. I was instructed to go to upavishta  next despite the fact that nobody else in the room was still practicing now, and they were starting to file in and sit ready for the talk. Maximum last-one-left-practicing-anxiety captain!

After supta padangustasana he came to me and said "do backbending now - take chakrasana" and I thought uh-oh, here we go. Chakrasana FAIL! I go through phases with including or excluding chakrasana attempts in my practice. I know the theory, and I have been helped with it by lots of different teachers, but the fact remains that on my own I just don't get it. But with Peter standing at the top of my mat I put my hands back, took my legs over, and stopped. No no no he says, you're making this too complicated - move over and I'll show you. Take hands and legs over together - haven't you seen how a child does it? And he rocked back and forth a few times to show me, hands and legs going together and knees remaining bent ("while you learn"). My turn. Somehow I managed to bash my cheek-bone with my knee at one point, but he had me do it again and again without attempting to flip, just the action of hands and legs together. Then finally he came and helped me go over, and I landed able to see how you could hop straight into chaturanga from the landing. Replicating this will of course be another matter, but I am definitely going to practice that rolling action of both hands and legs together.

Part of my reservation about going to a different teacher today (initially) was that to feel I had my moneys-worth, I would want to be dropping back, whether my back was screaming at me in pain or not. I know, I know..but sometimes these thoughts are there and we have to acknowledge them. But the lovely thing about having run out of time to finish my practice today meant that this wasn't an option. And given that by now everybody was finished, I took all of the prescribed five (FIVE!) urdhva dhanurasana with absolute focus of one on one assistance from Peter and it was completely amazing. I have often been told by my normal teacher "Heels out mel!" and last month in a vinyasa class I experienced an assisted backbend with completely parallel feet and realised what a huge difference it makes. But I haven't managed to replicate it, and clearly haven't lost the habit - but with C on maternity leave, I haven't been reminded for two months. What Peter pointed out is that by turning my left heel out, my right shoulder is having to do all of the work. Lightbulb moment! Tension in my right shoulder all through my practice, and then in my backbends it is being put under extra strain because of my wonky feet! I should point out that I didn't make this connection myself, he did - but as he moved my left foot, and took my hands wider, I went up into UD and it felt completely different. He stayed with me, moving me further over my shoulders and watching my feet in all 5 backbends, then adjusted me in paschimatomasana, telling me again to watch the tension in my right shoulder, and actually not to hold my fingers at all (my approximation of taking the wrist) but to take the sides of the feet instead, and take the elbows out wide. Again, completely different!

Baddha padmasana in Goa

I was instructed to take a shortened closing (as now it was coming up for 11.30, the planned time for the talk) without headstand, and told to take lotus but not to hurry the closing three postures. So I took baddha padmasana, then a few breaths in padmasana and utipluthi, figuring I'd rather take a slightly longer savasana. As I prepared to jump back from lotus Peter came over and asked if I'd done padmasana yet, I said I'd done it quickly as I was worried about everyone waiting. He told me to take my time, no hurry, and then - and I've never had a teacher do this with me before - he sat in front of me, softened my arms and my hands in the mudra, and then talked me through taking full deep breaths. It was such a beautiful thing; by this stage my breath can be a bot wobbly and uneven, but there's nothing like having a teacher sit and breathe with you to make you aware that it is, and to smooth it out, not to mention the fact that he was taking this time with me while everyone else was already long since finished and done. Utipluthi again he sat in front of me, told me to lift from the bandhas not the arms, and to breathe a little more quickly - I got off lightly with 10 breaths as I'd heard him tell some of the guys to take 25 or even 50, telling them that if you lift from mula bandha (well, he said "here" and I couldn't see him, so I'm assuming) that any number of breaths is possible, telling me that it was beautiful, that I'd done really well, that he was so pleased with me, and now to take rest.

And then shortly afterwards he spoke, just for a short while, and I felt still, and calm, and utterly tranquil. Everything he said made perfect sense, and was mainly focussed on breathing. Meditation not necessary when you have this practice, he said. All limbs of yoga are contained in this practice, he said. Pranayama begins when you take your first breath each day, he said. And I sat, unmoving, and listened, taking his words as my savasana, feeling the spirit of Guruji trasmitted directly through this man who studied with him so long often one to one; from arriving in Mysore as a complete beginner, to gaining an advance B teaching certificate. The added lovely surprise of connecting with an old friend meant that I took up the offer to join Peter, R and some of the others over tea and cake (well, it was only me eating cake...) and spent a wonderful few hours sitting in a nearby cafe having the chance to chat to both teachers, some of the other practitioners, and my friend. And immediately that i got home, I started thinking about what I could sell so that I can go and join Peter on one of the other dates of his European tour.

I'll end this stream of conscience post with the words Peter finished with today, which he also quoted in the Guruji book:

"There is one thing that Guruji said that really stuck with me through the years. He pointed to his heart and said, 'There is a small box sitting here. It is Atman. Turn your attention here. That is yoga.' I will never forget that." And he repeated today, "God is right here, in your heart. Concentrate here. That is yoga."

Peace out. Workshop LOVE!!

Things I learned in Thailand - Part one

This post is long overdue given that I came back from Thailand a month ago today....but that's mostly because it's been sitting as a half-written but still way too long draft for the past few weeks - oh and the fact that I have started a new job, turned my world upside down, been to Denmark - so that's lots of reasons! But I have new things I am dying to blog about, so I have to post this first - that's the rules!! So what did I learn in Thailand? I feel a Claudia style list coming on... 

• Going on a workshop or retreat and expecting to come away with a transformed practice is just not realistic. I decided it was a bit like when you see those weight loss shows, and people have to lose vast amounts of weight – they might lose 9 pounds the first week, 6 the second, but before too long it plateaus at 1 or 2 a week and they start to get disappointed. If you are starting from nothing (as I did on my first retreat) then of course you will see obvious progress. If you are returning to practice after a break (as I was on my second retreat!) then maybe what you’ll see is what you lost (that you could do before you took the break), but probably by the end you’ll be making clear progress. But going on a retreat when you already have a practice means, fundamentally, you have a lovely setting for your daily practice, a different voice counting the led class, and maybe some pointers that differ from the information you are usually given. I don’t mean this to be unnecessarily downplayed, of course there were things I learned, but I didn’t experience a 360 degree about turn in my practice – because ashtanga just doesn’t work like that. What does Kino say, there’s no pixie dust! It’s all about doing it every day.
•  Sometimes the things you need to learn are not all on your mat. I found the behaviour of some people I met on my trip really challenged me, and I don’t think I dealt with it in the best way (i.e. I let it really wind me up). I won’t say much else other than that as this is a public blog after all :)
• Being taught the primary series with mostly beginners is a huge benefit – the fundamental asanas are clearly called that for a reason. Having a chance to go back and re-learn the early asanas in the series was a great help as when I first learnt them there is so much to take in that refining the poses has to come later. In a strict mysore environment you often get very little verbal guidance for these postures, even if (like me in trikonasana) you’re clearly not quite understanding something to the extent that every teacher I ever practiced with adjusted me in the pose. Finally with Clayton something clicked, the extra verbal explanation on a daily basis went in and now I am a lot closer to understanding trikonasana than I ever was before, and the same applies to a lot of the standing sequence.
•  Breathwork and chanting are hugely powerful – I’ve got more to say on this in part 2 of this post, but every day we spent half an hour before practice doing a breathwork sequence including some chanting, and this had some quite strong effects on me. Those of us on the course universally loved it and I would really love to adopt some of it into my daily practice – the only problem is how! I already get up not long after 5am, I just don’t see how I can fit any more into my morning schedule – but maybe I can keep trying to work this one out. Clayton loves music so he also incorporated a lot of guitar-playing and chanting into our afternoon sessions which was really really wonderful. We’re trying to talk him into recording a CD!! It’s funny to be around people for a week who all have “shiva shiva shiva shambho-oh-oh, shiva shiva shiva shambho..” as their earworm.  
•  The first few days of a retreat are always tough. In the run-up to it I imagine that I will be transported to paradise and everything will be perfect. Then I arrive, exhausted from a long trip, and spend a couple of days making comparisons to trips I’ve made before and worrying that the people aren’t going to be very nice/that they don’t like me. It happened on my second trip to Goa (and probably my first, but I didn’t document it that time), and it happened in Thailand, so I should learn from this that it will probably always happen.

• Thailand and Goa aren’t in competition. So after the inevitable comparisons on arrival, I decided that (for me at least) Purple Valley is personal, and Yoga Thailand is commercial. For what it’s worth here’s what I thought. Although YT is undoubtedly more comfortable, it feels somehow less authentic, and several factors give it less of a friendly vibe than PV. One is that not everybody who is staying there is taking the same course, which inevitably means that you don’t mix with the full group, and that sometimes people will talk LOUDLY outside the shala while your whole group is in savasana (see point 1!). Sorry did I say sometimes? What I meant was Every.Freaking.Day.  Also not everybody there is an ashtangi, which of course is completely cool, but does mean that you can end up having those “What? You practice EVERY DAY? The same thing??” conversations (or worse the “well in MY yoga....” which often veils the “my yoga’s better than your yoga” sentiment) which make you feel like a freak. And the one place you really want to let yourself feel you’re not a freak is on an ashtanga retreat. Beautiful as the setup is at YT, I also found that the layout was less than ideal for this mixed group setting: the shala, pool and eating area are all on top of one another (adding to the gripes about noise!) whereas at PV there are all very separate. But then YT is right on the beach, and the location is stunning and perfect, the rooms are comfortable and air conditioned, the beds are fabulous, and my room even had an outdoor shower! After spending half the trip running through these thoughts I came to an important realisation: You don’t have to choose. One doesn’t have to be better or worse than the other, they are both wonderful in their own right. Coming out of the sea immediately after my morning practice on the penultimate day I found myself thinking “next time I’ll know to do this from day 1” (“this” being taking a swim right after practice) and it surprised me, as up until that point I hadn’t realised that I planned to go back again.

• Having trust in a teacher and the system doesn’t come naturally to everybody – and maybe it’s the hardest thing for complete beginners. This was something I found myself discussing with my teacher since I’ve been home too, on the subject of who will cover while she is on maternity leave. I’ve always understood that if as cover teacher or retreat teacher differs from your daily teacher then you follow whatever instruction you are given – you respect the teacher you are practicing with on that given occasion. When I first started ashtanga I was so clueless that I didn’t think to question what my first teachers were telling me (and nor should I have done, they are wonderful traditional teachers), I just went along with what I was taught and accepted the system as explained to me. I was of course very fortunate to have such a great introduction to ashtanga (you can read about it here in one of my first posts). Coming back to London I first went to a teacher who I didn’t get along with at all, and who I really disagreed with in terms of her methods, but I did as she said, I tried to find a way to make it work, and then after a few months I switched to a different teacher. What I found interesting was that amongst my retreat group in Thailand, there was quite a lot of dissent in terms of the teaching methods which left me feeling rather uncomfortable. Having said this, the same thing happened amongst the complete beginners on my last trip to Goa. The general complaint was that it was too hard for the beginners. Funnily enough everybody who expressed concern said the same thing “It’s not me I’m worried about, but for some of the complete beginners I think it’s too much.” Those few of us with an established practice took to the programme (which was 50/50 mysore practices and half led primary on alternate days) with differing approaches. Whilst I missed my normal daily mysore practice a bit, and had a vague concern that it might be hard to get back to the later asanas after not doing them every day, I was mostly happy to take the teaching that was on offer.  The other established practitioners had differing views at times, but one realised that asking to be allowed to finish the series after the beginners had finished the led class was indicative of striving for more progress and what was needed was a lighter attitude to the practice. 

All of this comes down to one thing: you just have to suck it up. Listen to your teacher, do as they say, don’t question it too much. Now this may sounds like I’m brain-washed, and I want to write all sorts of disclaimers to go with it, (one of which is that of course, our teachers are only human and they can make mistakes - and sometimes we just won't click with a teacher) but the basic lesson is just as I said: suck it up. According to Cary learning to respect your teacher doesn’t come easily to a lot of people, it takes time for them to develop that trust, but from what I can see it is absolutely one of the most important points to reach if you are going to continue with a dedicated practice. Maybe this is why I look at other people on retreats happily having dinner with the teacher and speaking to them like they are just another of the guests, whereas I stumble over my words and don’t know what to say in normal conversation when my teacher is around...instead of this meaning I’m a loser maybe I can see it as a good thing!

I’ve got more but in the interests of not writing an encylopedia let’s call this part one – to be continued....and I’ll leave you with a video (clearly not Clayton!!) of one of the songs we managed to crowbar into a kirtan...not in Sanskrit. I tried to find a good version of one of my favourite chants from the week but nobody does them quite like Clayton..sigh.

Beginner's Mind

So the retreat has begun and I have stopped blogging...

Well there’s just so much to fit into a day! Yesterday’s schedule looked like this: half an hour breathwork/meditation to begin a slow led class as a group, breakfast, pool-time, a little swim in the sea, lunch, pedicure , afternoon workshop, dinner, chatting with fellow retreaters, bed. See? Busy busy round here, no time for blogging!!

But in the interests of keeping a record of this trip I should say how it’s going so far. Let’s put it this way – our welcome meeting on Saturday afternoon included some gentle get-you-over-jetlag yoga (including some of deepest pigeon variations I ever came across!) and when we were in savasana Clayton did a little strum on his guitar to tune it. And then Mel realised she was in HEAVEN! We then chanted lokah samastha sukhino bhavantu accompanied by his guitar and his lovely mellow singing and I knew I’d come to the right course :)

In terms of who is here, the majority of people on the course are either beginners or people who haven’t practiced mysore style or ashtanga yoga before. This makes for an interesting dynamic on my part, as I am amongst one of only 3 or 4 people (out of 17 I think) with a regular mysore practice. Having been one of the closest to beginner level on retreats in the past this is a strange and unusual concept to me (and am trying to disengage any ego at this point). But also I am the least advanced of the regular practitioners, so that feels a bit more natural!! What’s funny is that my room-mate is as huge an ashtangageek as I am and we both confessed to having a fear of being paired up with a complete beginner and having to pretend to be normal, haha!! She’s from Melbourne and is laid back and lovely and practices up to the beginning of intermediate. And her teacher was on the same training course in mysore that my teacher, my original teachers and our retreat teacher were all on. Oh and she was on the same course at Purple Valley as a good friend of mine last year. Small world eh? And then we have another massive ashtangageek from Argentina, a lovely guy who urged me to give up my job as one of the first things he said to me and has described at length the perils of wearing a certain type of boy shorts to do garbha. We had a fabulous long chat last night (the three of us) where we realised that we are all insane, but at least we’re in it together! Isn’t that actually the point of going on a yoga retreat?

 So anyway given the number of beginners my assumption was that we would be taking things very slowly to begin with, and yesterday that was the case. But I now completely understand the benefit of going back to basics – I learnt so much! I think often when you are a complete beginner there is SO much to take in that a lot of the finer detail goes over your head. Then with regular mysore practice, your teacher might pick up on some of these glitches during your practice but there will always be things that aren’t picked up on; going right back to the beginning and being taught as a complete beginner is a great opportunity to refine the practice. We began our morning with a half hour session of “breathwork and meditation”. We began with alternate nostril breathing then some other breathwork before going on to chakra meditation (no guitar!) as we chanted lam vam ram (and so on) for each chakra – all of which left me feeling very mellow and chilled. So practice began was an erratic sounding opening chant as we did it all together, and of course everyone has veeeery different versions depending on your teacher. Clayton’s is (of course) beautifully tuneful and rather lovely in a sing-song kind of way.  He then handed out posture sheets and proceeded to demonstrate surya namaskar A before asking us to try, then the same with B, repeating a few times together before moving onto padangustasana and so on. Lots of explanation, modifications and variations (with demonstrations) for complete beginners, some adjustments as he walked round and we did the postures in a slightly less flowing way than usual because of the explanations, but I loved the way that he made everything accessible to all levels. And surely that’s the mark of a good teacher? Oh AND he was assisting the person beside me in utthita hasta padangusthasana and then just held his hand out and held my leg up too so he was assisting us both at once. Good skills!

I also have to say (just to get it out of the way...) I don’t think I ever saw a 6’2 man demonstrate ashtanga before (most of the male teachers I’ve come across tend to be shorter and have a different type of physique) but he looks pretty awesome when he demonstrates. And his abs are almost a little distracting!!  What with that and lovely mellow timbre of his speech and singing voice I think maybe I have decided a new pre-requisite for a successful yoga retreat... haha, bad lady!!!

In yesterday’s afternoon class we then ran through the postures in more detail – in the morning we practiced up to Janu sirsasana A and then did full closing, in the afternoon we talked as far as the beginning of seated. And there were definitely a few things that I picked up from this first class which I was then able to take through my practice both yesterday and today. One of the major ones was from his lengthy explanation of the correct posture of chaturanga through into upward dog. On Friday when I practiced with Elonne she picked up on my legs rolling out in upward dog. I’ve been aware that I did this a little but something in the way Clayton explained this part of the vinyasa so slowly and clearly made the penny drop. Activate legs – ta-da! Oh also (this is slightly embarrassing) I think I was confusing lifting up the kneecaps/activating the legs with hyperextension. That feeling where the knees slightly roll was one I thought I had to avoid for fear of hyperextending, but now I find that’s actually what you need to do to activate the legs...and in case I didn’t explain this well I demonstrated it with my room-mate and she confirmed that my knees were NOT hyperextending when I did the pulling up thing. Ha! More fool me! But err – sometimes these things just take a while to click don’t they? We finished the class with more chanting, one in English that he said was a typical Californian hippie campfire song and then morphed into lokah samastha, and also the news that tomorrow morning (Monday) we would be doing a mysore style practice. Pretty scary news for the complete beginners I imagine but good news for me as I feel like I have missed lots of days (what with 2 days taken up with travel and the time difference and then the Saturday rest day).

But then weirdly before the mysore practice today I was feeling nervous and like I didn’t remember the sequence – part of which is to do with having new asanas and having taken a few days break I’m a bit confused as to where I actually practice up until – so I checked the sheet before I left my room, but actually when I did my last pose today (supta konasana) I had to ask Clayton afterwards what came next – and that gave me the answer that I had finished my practice!

Anyway we began the class again today with half an hour of breathwork, the same as yesterday, then we did the opening chant in call and response before kicking off with mysore practice. I had my roommate to my left and a particularly distracting beginner to my right (I tried not to be too distracted, really I did...). When the distracting one finally agreed to stop (after saying she was happy to do more 3 times when told to stop there) her savasana consisted of lying on her side with her legs up watching the room. When told she could leave when she was finished she said “no, I’m learning” and continued to watch. Okkkaaaaay.....

I noticed that at the very beginning of my practice I felt a bit like I was trying too hard and that my brain was everywhere. It’s hard sometimes I think to switch off and focus on your practice when there’s so much else going on around you, and the suryas felt like they went on forever. I don’t know if it was because I mentioned my trikonasana issues in conversation yesterday, by Clayton came and helped me with my alignment before I had even started on the posture, and I felt like I was better aligned today than ever before which was fantastic. It was ever so hot though and sweat was pouring off me (bear in mind we started at 8am, much hotter than 6.30!) and at one point I was really shaky and thought I’d never get through my whole practice. But once I got to seated it was OK, I was using a lot of the tips Clayton gave yesterday and it was all helping. Luckily nobody was around to assist in baddha konasana so my poor sore muscles have another day to recover, and apart from my mental block at the end of my practice it was all good. One last pointer was to bring my elbows closer together for headstand – which initially felt wrong but as I stayed there very strongly I realised that I was giving me greater stability in the posture. By the time I came out of savasana only two others were still in the room (my roomie and the lady who works here – the fabulous “we love our breasts” Qi gong teacher) and it was roasting hot. So what did we do but dive headlong into the breakfast extravaganza kicking off with coconut rice pudding with fresh papaya to steel ourselves for another day of sunbathing, swimming in the sea and – oh, getting sunburnt, but that’s not really recommended. Back to a slow led class to navasana tomorrow to help the beginners integrate what they learnt today, so knowing how much harder slow classes are than normal ones, I’m off to bed!

Kino in London - part 3

Continued from part 2...

My post weekend reflections included the thought – interesting how we spend so long looking forward to something, and then while it’s gone wishing it was over. Now this isn’t true to say for everything, but the second half of the Saturday workshop was a big struggle. The first half was great! I was feeling strong and capable and I understood what she was driving at in a way I hadn’t in Edinburgh. I was able to remember doing some of the same exercises as we did last time, going onto hands and knees, building a solid foundation in the body – and I remember having found it all too difficult, and like I didn’t really understand the first part of the exercise, let alone when we went on to build it up two, three, four different ways. Well the same thing did happen again in London, but at least the confusion kicked in halfway through instead of right at the start! We spent some of the time working on bujapidasana  - one of my nemeses. Kino offered some great insights (despite the guy who just kept asking her how you jump into it...she insisted that until you are so bored in bhuja that you can call your mum on the speakerphone, then you DON’T jump into it. “So can you show us then?” he asked again....Grrr!). Her teaching included:

·        You need to keep a sense of roundedness in the back – throughout!

·        If we feel our butt is travelling down, don’t think up, think forward.

·        Step onto the hands – this helps to turn feet and knees out

·        Bend the elbows to create a seat for the thighs

·        Maintain the structured foundation (that we had been building up – including rounded back)

·        To get feet up think forward.

·        To come back out of it, think CHEST FORWARD, and press the feet into the foundation to come back up.

·        Bakasana exit – lean right, take right leg back, lean left, take left leg back.

·        Don’t correct and do “pretty bakasana”!!

None of this is new information really, but something about following the instructions (especially stepping on the hands, which I hadn’t tried before, and rounding the back, which I’d never thought of) has seemed to help. Whilst I still land on my head with quite a clonk most days, I am at least managing something vaguely approaching a bakasana exit in the post-Kino practices, something I have never been able to even try before. My only possible exit from the pose in the past was to fling myself out of it and land on my bum with a crash!

Watching the buja demo

As we moved on I started to struggle. I can’t even remember at what point it was, but I began to feel utterly defeated. We started working on an exercise where I couldn’t compute stage 1, and then we moved on to stages 2 and 3. I just wanted to throw in the towel. Partnering with J was wonderful but I was determined not to tell her that I was having a hard time, not to put it “out there” though I was sure it was written all over my face. But eventually I did say it. I spent the second half of the workshop residing in doubt and fear.  And then the very last thing we did in the workshop was an assisted handstand from prasarita position and somehow, completely by magic, I LOVED it!! I normally have a huge freakout in anything handstand-related but this just felt right, with jen holding my waist I floated my legs out to the sides and up into handstand and it felt AMAZING! I was so happy to finish on such a high!

You think I'd remember all of this without taking notes??!

Maybe part of the reason I has anxiety in this workshop was that I was already thinking ahead. I had intentionally not booked the Sunday afternoon workshop, Introduction to 2^nd Series, because I thought it wasn’t really right for me. But I already knew that two of my friends, although they had booked it, were planning not to go. Which meant that there were a few spaces available – and all I knew was that I didn’t want my time with Kino to be over yet. But I didn’t want to do the scary second series workshop either when I don’t even do full primary! And I am such a traditionalist! So what did I do...well, I waited until after the class and had a chat with her. Aside from name-dropping Cary (“Cary is AWESOME! I love Cary, please say hi”) and saying how lucky I was also to practice with (and be offered advice by) my friend Susan (“Susan is awesome too! You really are lucky!”) I chatted to her about my crazy garbha bruises (she suggested lifting the left knee...I have tried it but can’t quite work it out) and about the 2^nd series class. She completely reassured me, and said that some of what we worked on would help my primary series postures, and it’s OK to try postures in a workshop that you teacher hasn’t given you. So as I left, I sent S a text asking if it might be OK to take his space...and the answer was yes. So there was a little more Kino-time to come! On Sunday morning I went to Cary as usual for my Mysore practice (which was lovely, I was able to assimilate some of what I had learned, but also to bring my practice back to reality in the midst of the workshop excitement) and then after lunch it was back over to Triyoga.

Sweetly as Kino walked into the workshop on Sunday afternoon, almost tripping over me (my mat was right in front of the door) she smiled and said “Oh you were brave! You came! Great!” which of course pleased me no end!

·        Kino began by explaining that the function of the Primary Series is partly in understanding that when fear arises you can keep stillness and steadiness of mind. It is also about building a base level of health in the body.

• Once these things are established through proficiency in the asanas then you are ready for the intermediate series.
•  So a certain level of proficiency in the primary series, but also a strong, clear mind and a base level of strength, flexibility and health are essential before beginning second series.
• Intermediate will test your faith and belief in yoga and will possibly make you want to give it up completely at some stages! She said “You have to have already drunk the kool aid” i.e. to already be on the yoga path, otherwise you’ll never be able to deal with all the crazy that second series brings out!
• Initiating movement from bandhas – from the mythological place of Kundalini (root) chakra is essential for intermediate. The series then forcefully pushes kundalini energy up through the body to awaken the crown chakra
• Legs behind head – ida and pingala nadis (which need to awaken to get the energy flowing up through the body) originate in the hip joints, so LBH stuff initiates this energy flow.
•  Ask yourself “If I never get another posture, do I still want to do this practice?” if the answer is yes then you know you are involved in the spiritual journey. (I read this brilliant post this week which reminded me of this point too...)

I loved that last point. She talked a little about people who she knew who’d been stuck on the same asana for seven years. I mean really – SEVEN YEARS??!! It makes me August-April wait to move on from Bhuja pale into insignificance. I also really liked the way she spoke about intermediate, I think people can be fixated on the idea that you’re ready when you can stand up from backbends, but it was clear to me that sometimes you could still not be ready at this point, but all that’s going to happen is you might have some sort of meltdown. And is that really what anybody wants? I just don’t understand the rush myself...but then maybe I can safely say this from my not-yet-full-primary position where pasasana isn’t even on my radar.

I’ll tell you what though – I can do it! I used a block under my heels, but I happily bound both sides. And when I say happily, I was honestly thrilled I’d taken the workshop JUST so that I could discover that I could do it! Of course I liked what I could do, and wasn’t so happy with the stuff I couldn’t do, but I took it very much as a playtime whereas my partner in this workshop was Helen,  who the following day was given three new intermediate asanas and was split! I also got my legs behind my head (which I knew I’d be able to do) but had a giant freakout in ustrasana (again, no surprises here!). But all in all I was just happy to have more time with Kino, and to be there at the close of the workshop (having been there when it opened). All in all it was a fantastic weekend, and although Kino is keen on saying “there’s no magic pixie dust!” I think I did get a little sprinkling of it over the course of the two days. Over and out.

Bad sweaty picture (me, not her!) with Kino at the end of the weekend.
I'd run out of decent yoga clothes by this stage ;)

Kino in London - part 2

You can almost see me in this...I'm behind my friend in the white!

At long last! I knew that writing just half of my thoughts up was a mistake, I should have written the whole thing and posted it in parts (seeing as I can’t seem to edit to shorter posts... Later edit - this post is now broken up into two parts which follow immediately on from one another). Anyway I luckily had the foresight to scribble down some overall impressions on the tube journey home at the end of the weekend, so hopefully everything will come flooding back to me as I write. So here goes...

Saturday morning began with a led full primary. As it was kicking off at 10am and scheduled to last until 12.30, I decided to get up early enough to eat before I left home. I wouldn’t normally ever eat before practice, but having had hotel porridge at 8am when I practiced with Kino in Edinburgh with no obvious ill effects, I decided to do the same at home (though I think it was 7am!). And it’s a good job I did really, these full workshops days really leave no time where it’s feasible to eat...

I arrived and immediately saw my friends S and A (who were there Friday night) and although the Mysore room was already packed, they had sweetly saved me a spot beside them – right at the front where I like it! And by luck they were immediately next to my twitter friend from Brighton & his girlfriend. Friends Jen & Helen were in my line of sight in the back row, so in downward dog I could see them, all of which made me happy. Kino arrived and, although I had expected her to open with some sort of chanting, or introductory conversation, she instead walked to the front of the room and simply said “Samisthiti” before opening the chant. I had begun the day feeling anxious, for no good reason, but as we chanted and began surya namaskar A there was good energy in the room (with around 75 people practicing). As we moved onto B I found that with bent legs I was having a huge attack of the shakes – which has never before happened right at the start of my practice. What a good start, I thought!! But generally the class was excellent – strong, challenging yes but it was amazing to feel the difference from the last time with her, when I had only ever taken led full primary 4 or 5 times. Now, despite finishing my self-practice at garbha pindasana, I do led full primary once a week so it doesn’t feel like such a terrific challenge. After my shakes in surya B, unsurprisingly the warrior sequence was a huge challenge. In utkatasana the shakes were pretty severe, as was the mental battle, and after the first few breaths of Vira 1 I was really struggling. In vira 2 I had to straighten the bent leg and completely back off the pose (on/off, on/off) as Kino’s relentless count went on, and my brain played crazy crazy games. But generally I felt like I could keep up without any trouble, and reaching supta kurmasana I was able to bind my hands securely (which happens somedays, but it’s certainly not a given) and I was even able to cross my feet, keeping my hands together – which I have NEVER done on my own before! I don’t know whether to put it down to the bath I had in the morning, the extra hours of being awake before practice, the longer kurmasana hold, Kino’s magical presence, or a combination of all of these! Garbha was mentally tough as I was going through my backing off phase due to my by-now ludicrous arm bruises, and in the space of those 5 breaths holding my hands around my lotus instead of through, my chitta vritta were SCREAMING at me (“you cheater! Look at you, hanging out here in the easy version! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU???”) but I sat with it, let the voices scream (I’m not schizophrenic, really I’m not) and got on with it. Supta padangusthasana was fun as S and I pulled faces at each other (yoga can be silly too!) and there were plenty of giggles in the room, especially in the second half of the practice which was obviously not familiar to everyone in the room (I include myself in this!). But the really exciting stuff happened when we got to backbends. Now I knew this was coming, I had even warned my mat neighbour that she does loads of backbending...and in Edinburgh my main memory of it was that there was too much, and I couldn’t do it, so I just lay on my mat. Well, what a difference 6 months and a newly daily practice makes! We warmed up with some little bridges, but as Kino encouraged us to walk the feet in until we could clasp them I realised that I could bring my legs in much closer, even at this stage. Then we did 3 urdhva dhanurasana, with Kino warning that we were doing lots, and to take it easy. But as she talked us through a second set of three, offering explanation and anatomical focus, something magical happened. I found the connection between backbending and my legs. As we neared the end (but we still weren’t finished, she warned us), we came up onto our heads to walk our hands in as close as we possibly could. Now I have tried walking my hands in the past, but all that happened was I’d walk them in a little, then as soon as I pushed up they effectively slid back to where they’d started. But somehow this time it was different. Inhaling up onto my head, my hands walked in, and not just a few millimetres, and we pushed up in a final effort...I have no doubt that I made some noise about it, but the difference was UNBELIEVABLE. I’ll add here that since then, my backbends have felt utterly transformed. Whereas before they were just something to do quickly as I felt I didn’t have much energy or strength left for them (I go through phases...), since Kino’s workshop I have found and maintained that connection with the legs. And I feel the hips pushing up towards the ceiling (I don’t think I EVER noticed them before!), and the hands can come in...I can’t exaggerate how much this posture has changed for me since that workshop, it’s really incredible.

Chanting to open the space - that's me in blue!

After an all too brief break for lunch (I had some raisin bread and a coffee...good job I’d had that porridge!) it was back for the afternoon’s workshop which focused on arm balances and inversions. Expecting the same workshop I’d done in Edinburgh I wasn’t hugely looking forward to it, but this was actually a different one. And although I’d been dreading doing partner-work, having Jen there meant at least I had one I liked & trusted! I scribbled down some notes at the start of this workshop, so here’s what Kino had to say...

·        Strength: first it comes from within. The first thing that gives up is usually our mind which means we often don’t reach the physical limit of our strength before our brain tells us that we’ve had enough.

·        Doubt – there are two kinds. First: reason and rational based doubt – this comes from our super ego, we can come up with ten reasons why this posture will never be possible for us to do. Second: emotional. Kino said this is characterised by a noise (which I can’t spell...) like “Owwwwww!”. Fundamentally, whining!

The latter is slightly easier to deal with as we have less belief in the reliability of our emotions. But for the former...

·        Talking ourselves out of this doubt takes a strong mind. “I will do whatever it takes” to whittle away the treatise of emotional doubt so that we can learn to control our lives from a place of peace. You have to find that strength and steadiness of mind to cross the bridge from doubt to a place of certainty.

·        The ego says “it should be immediately available to me just because I want it” (talking about difficult asana, but also this point cane be generalised!). Follow the 4 steps (see part 1) and don’t try to achieve something so far from where we are now in reality. Aim for a 1-2% change. Say to yourself, I am humbly willing to stay with the body no matter how long it takes, 2% by 2%.

·        If you never touch your physical limit you’re never get 2% stronger. The perfect demonstration of this is in utupluthi. When do we really ever stick with this until we reach our physical limit? I know I don’t...my brain links my limit to the count. “Oh maybe just ten today” or “Wow 14, I feel OK but I can probably stop at 15”. Sound familiar?

·        Bandhas: not physical places – they are energetic expressions – but when things connect on a deep level there is the ability to access muscles over which we normally have no conscious control. Bringing consciousness into the pelvic region, beginning to wake up the pelvis, eventually one day you will have access to the Tan tien centre. This comes from a sense of total integration in the body – solid structural foundation.

·        I asked her a question about shaking (as I was experiencing even more earth-moving shakes in this workshop than I did in the morning!) and said that in an exercise class for example, shaking muscles mean you have overworked them. It seems wrong to be shaking in yoga...But she explained what I have actually heard somewhere before, that the shaking indicates samskaras leaving your body. I’d like to believe this is true, because if it is, I did some wicked cleansing through the course of Kino’s workshops!

Continued in Part 3....

Ding-ding, Round 2! Kino MaGregor in London (part 1)

This weekend I had the opportunity to practice with the wonderful Kino MacGregor when she came to London for a series of workshops – my second “bout” with her (read about my first one in March 2010 here) and one which left me reinvigorated, happy, exhausted and physically broken! I took notes, I took photos, I took some video, I took tremendous inspiration...but most of all I took away some lessons and changes which are affecting my practice already. But where to begin?

The weekend kicked off with a Friday night session, the asana demo, breathwork and Q&A. As I am local I had a normal day at work then headed down to the yoga centre, the only issue being that as a colleague was leaving that day we had a bottle of champagne in the office before we left – whoops! Of course it went straight to my head and I had to drink oodles of camomile tea before I got there to calm down my hot flushes – great start! Happily as I arrived I bumped into my friend S (who I met in Goa) and his partner A, neither of whom I knew would be there, so chatted to them before going in, always lovely to see familiar faces. Unfortunately our social moment out the front meant that we were right at the back of the room, so none of my photos of the demo are much cop, but there are plenty on facebook taken in her other workshops by other people if you want to ogle them! Interestingly for me, I found that during the breath exercises we did together I was able to sit very still and peacefully, and I wasn’t wishing the time away. When I took her workshop in March I am sure that this was more of a challenge for me, but in the past weeks I have been joining those who sit together after Friday’s Led class, so I am more accustomed to it now.

Watching Kino’s demo was amazing (of course), but whereas before I think I was just agog at what she could do (and I love the expression on her face throughout, she looks so chilled), this time I was watching the technique in certain things which were appropriate to me. She mentioned later that when people ask her why she does a demo, Krishnamacharya described yoga demos as “propaganda” which everybody found funny, but as Kino said, they can only be performed with sincerity otherwise the message will be lost (i.e. if a contortionist gave a demo it would be a quite a different thing). 

Watching the audience

After the demonstration Kino spoke - and as she says, she can talk all night! It's always hard to capture the essence of what she's saying as she moves so fast through complex concepts but I scribbled some notes while she talked which I will attempt to make some sense of now...bear in mind this is just a flavour of what she said, I may have got some up it mixed up and it's just my recollection. 

·        - The purpose of the primary series is to create a base level of health in the body. This can come from just sun salutations – the purpose of advanced asana is to peer into the soul and see who we really are.

She also went on to say that the harder the asana, the more opportunity there is for growth – so if you come up against major difficulty with the first forward bend of the sun salutations then you are very lucky, you don’t need the other asanas!

·        - The holy trinity of breath, movement and drishti can lead to a small pause in the fluctuations of the mind – beyond emotion, mental chatter, judgement. This is why we practice.

·        -  Hatha Yoga Pradipika talks about the body being a temple with a flame at it’s centre. Every inhalation ignites this spirituality and stimulates this agni. When we burn through the impurities in the body the flame does not stop burning.

Think of it as brushing your teeth (to make it seem less precious) – asana practice is the same in that we do it daily because we know that if we don’t, negative results will occur. Asana practice is also like cleaning the temple grounds – we do it not because it’s precious and special but essential. If we don’t practice, pain can occur which transcends lifetimes.

·        - Breath: in stressful situations, both the breath and the heartbeat react – there is a certain point of no return where this can’t be slowed down. Maintaining a long slow steady breath means the situation may never reach that point of no return (she was talking about an argument in particular). This can be used as a tool when reaching avenues of fear  - the only thing that can help us is breath.

·        - Samskaras: through asana practice we can awaken sleeping body parts or put energy into areas of our bodies that we don’t usually inhabit – this is the physical manifestation of our samskaras. Reaching the depth of physical practice is the only way we indentify our samskaras and breath is the only way to work through them.

·       -  I also asked a question in one of the afternoon workshops about shaking – we were attempting a one armed  balance (side plank) and I was shaking like a crazy person. Knowing that in exercise classes the shaking often means you are pushing a muscle to your limit I asked about this, and she said that as long as you can keep breathing then it’s ok to keep working there (as soon as you stop breathing then you need to worry!). She also said the other theory is that the shaking is a sign of samskaras leaving your body – which is of course a GOOD thing!

·        - When we feel that our unique problems are ours and ours alone this is ego talking. We need to use the same tools that we use in our yoga practice: reaching the depths of our samskaras we use maitri (friendliness) to come to terms with the samskaras at the depths of our being.

·        - Facing ourselves at the depths of who we are can be seen as a heroic journey – this is in fact the definition of a spiritual journey.

·        - Discipline can be re-formed as ritual, then it becomes a spiritual practice.

·        - Four step process: she talked a lot about this over the weekend, explaining that before initiating movement we should follow this:

1.      Body awareness.

2.      Satya – honesty. What does this really feel like? Is it tight?

3.      Maitra – friendliness. This is the active state of ahimsa, it’s what we do when we gently nurse a knee to warm it up rather than just ramming it into half lotus.

4.      Initiation of movement-  let’s see what happens.

If instead of following this you listen to the ego instead of the method of the asana, pain and injury are inevitable.

Not a great view, but still a great view :)

Somebody asked a question about how she deals with big world events like 9/11, or injustice in the world. (??) Turned out to be a good question because after talking in a quite a funny way  about her relative thoughts towards Osama Bin Laden,  Sarah Palin and George Bush she went on to say some things which I could apply directly to me.

·        - Don’t start off trying to practice compassion towards a person who has screwed you over – it’s not going to happen. Start small. Similarly if we think about world events and we feel like “that shouldn’t happen” (injustice for example) then we come from a place of antagonism i.e. not ahimsa. Instead we need to apply the same process we apply to the physical body – we feel, we go to the root, experience awareness (before we act).

·        Find the places where we have anger and start the work: treat it like an injury, use this process (as above). But don’t start trying to practice from 4th series, start with surya A – practice on a level that is easy, first practice loving the people who are easy to love (small babies, dogs – the equivalent of a sun salutation) then move onto the people who are much harder to love (the harder postures).

The Q&A part was interesting in itself for a few reasons (not least what Kino had to say of course!). In Edinburgh I seem to remember it being quite low key but this being London, people were practically trampling over one another to ask questions. I exaggerate slightly, but sitting at the back I raised my hand several times as it seemd that a previous question was near to being answered. I had decided in advance that I wanted to ask a question, and had devised one I thought interesting enough to the group which I did genuinely want to know the answer to (about bandhas in the first few years of practice). Unfortunately a few people sitting at the front preferred instead to ask multiple questions, turning it into more of a dialogue than a Q&A and I found myself getting quite wound-up. My friends were trying to encourage me to keep raising my hand but eventually I realised that it was my ego which was so very desperate to ask a questions so instead of getting frustrated and not listening to what was being said, I lowered my hand and adopted a softer approach. OK so it seems strange to come along on an ashtanga weekend and not be aware of who Pattabhi Jois/Manju/Sharath are or what goes on in Mysore, but everyone has to learn sometime don’t they? And true, personally I don’t consider a Q&A session to be a “this is your life” where we ask the teacher what was the hardest pose for them, questions about their personal practice and history (especially not when I’m a swot so I know all this stuff!) but again, it made me realise that I am very fortunate to have been guided in my early weeks of ashtanga by wonderful teachers and friends so that I had a base of knowledge right from the start. Additionally although I am immersed in the world of ashtanga with a regular teacher, a daily asana practice at a shala filled with like-minded individuals and a bookshelf full of resources, not everybody is (or would want to be). And this weekend was as much for them as it was for me. So I started practicing a little more compassion and instead of getting frustrated I stopped rolling my eyes and started just listened to whatever questions that came.

So that was the Friday night! This post has turned epic already so I plan to write up the rest of the weekend separately. Although that sounds a bit like famous last words... 
Read more in parts 2 and 3