by Jamie Shane
The only details you have to worry about now are keeping the spine long and breathing slowly. Keep your awareness on the spine and feel it wringing out, like a soaking wet dishrag. This is a very personal posture, and your twist will look different than your instructor's.
So listen to your internal boundaries, take up the challenge and explore. Gently. Continue to spiral yourself around into your deepest posture.
Yours. Nobody else's. Postures like the twist can be dispiriting.
Theoretically, it should be easy. But years of spinal abuse can make this posture difficult. You may feel frustrated or discouraged. Its OK, just try. Do the best you can.
And, no, it is not fair that the lady next to you can twist like a Gumby doll and you can't, but what in life is really fair? You deal with what you've got and take it from there. That's yoga, y'all. So, if you have any questions, feel free to call me. My number is printed below. I always do the best I can to help. Sometimes I won't have the answers, and it may turn out that I am not the person you need. That's fine.
But the great thing about being where I am is that you can be darned sure that I know someone.
74
Sometimes teaching yoga is like being a chef. Every day you go into that giant refrigerator and look around at all of your ingredients, making choices. Some teachers stick to the menu: I will always teach this and this and this. Like a familiar family restaurant, the student always knows what to expect. Other teachers, like myself, tend to look at those ingredients and pull together ‘specials’. When you come to one of my classes, you simply come in for the ride. Who knows what’s on the menu today?
However, like seasonal ingredients, a teacher often uses what is fresh for them at the time. It may be an issue that makes a star appearance in every class for a week, then fades off of the menu for a month. I can’t even begin to describe why this is. But such is the way.
This last week or so, I have found myself reaching for a particular breath that I haven’t sought for many, many moons. This week, this breath has made me so happy that I feel compelled to share it with every student, every class, and now, every reader. This is, apparently, my special de la semaine.
We have already discussed the importance of the breath in yoga. Not just any breath, but that long, full breath often called the ‘three-part-breath’ or the ‘yoga breath’. This is the breath that travels down into the root of the belly, expands into the ribcage and then up into the chest. It takes rather a long time for the breath to fully move through, ideally, up to fifteen seconds for inhale and exhale. This slowing of the breath, in conjunction with the depth of the breath, is what produces that calmness of mind that is characteristic of a good yoga practice. And it is this focus that allows one to move through challenging postures with confidence and grace.
However, there are times when a pose becomes so challenging, or when the heart rate has accelerated too much, that this slow breath simply vanishes. Poof! Suddenly, you are huffing and puffing as if you were in a race instead of Warrior. Oftentimes, you don’t even realize it is gone until matters quickly deteriorate and your mind wanders into, “Get me outta here!”
Here is where you must meet my good friend Ujjayi (oo-jiye). This is a modification of the three part breath specifically designated for focus. When things head south, turn to ujjayi. When you are trembling, find ujjayi. When your heart is pounding and you breath is racing, it is time for ujjayi. This is also called the ‘Victorious Breath’, quite simply because it will help you to regain control and achieve.
If you allow the tip of the tongue to rest behind the front teeth and then tighten up the back of the tongue, you can start to feel the back of the throat constrict. This narrows the passage of air and forces your breath back into the slow, deep pattern required for yogic control. You will still get as much air as you did before, but because of this constriction it just takes noticeably longer.
The ujjayi breath is also quite loud. It resonates in your ears. I often teach it as the “Darth Vader” breath, and this is an accurate comparison. Everybody in the room should hear it. And if it helps you through a difficult series, put on that black helmet and breathe as if the Universe were yours to command. With ujjayi, the force is on your side.
Remember, a fast breath is a panic breath. The slow breath is the breath of power.
Life is yours for the taking if you just remember how to breathe.
75
Just for the sake of a little philosophical exercise, let’s wonder for a minute.
What if we don’t really have our own individual source of experience or emotion? Perhaps we are not as self-contained as we like to believe. What if we are simply networked to a larger whole? Perhaps, like a network server, there is only one source of human experience and we all tap into it when we feel love, strength, anger, desire, et al.
Hmmm. That might explain how we can all define something as ethereal as personal strength. Not everybody is strong; But everybody can tell you what strength is. Could that be because we all share one heart and draw upon Its understanding? Maybe I’m wrong, but I think that’s an interesting theory nonetheless.
So let us conduct an experiment. Right now. Come on up to your feet (lose the shoes). Step your feet wide, as far away from one another as they can go without feeling like your thighs are going to split open. Ground the outer edges of your feet to the floor. Now rotate your right toes 90 degrees so that they point away from the arch of your left foot.
Stretch your arms out from your shoulders with the palms facing down.
The arms want to feel strong, but not tense. Your shoulders should be relaxed. Now look out over your right fingertips and begin to bend the right knee into a right angle. If you look down at your knee, you should still be able to see your big toe. This will let you know you haven’t bent the knee too far. And if you can see all of your foot, you haven’t bent your knee far enough. Keep the outer edge of your left foot on the floor. Gaze out over your fingers into the beyond.
This is called Warrior (Two. There are others…). While you are here, take a moment to experience the posture. Your arms are long and focused, like a spear. The legs are strong and grounded, but dynamic. Your torso is poised between them, perfectly balanced between the two. For all intents and purposes, you are focused, grounded, active and balanced. You are a warrior of life.
Now breathe. Deep, slow breaths that allow you to connect more fully to the sensations of the warrior. Feel that warrior heart beating within you. Take the time here to know what it means to be ready for anything that comes at you. To have a sharp sense of the calm center that precedes the chaos of battle. You are the both the warrior and the spear, the actor and the action. Think about that. Feel it whispering in your chest and radiating out through your body. Know what it means to be a warrior and understand that experience. Focus, now. Can you feel it?
Now where on earth did that awareness come from? Who here has ever picked up a spear or a sword and gone running into battle? Surely not me. Have you? Could it be that all of the warriors who have come before have all drawn upon a common well of strength? Does that well live in a place that we can all reach?
I don’t know. But I do know that the practice of yoga has shown me that there exists some kind of great connection. There is some source that enables us, supports and heals us as we move through this battle of life. And, the more I practice, the more I realize that for all of our differences, at the core we are all very, very much the same. Perhaps it is because we are all sharing one heart that merely wears a million faces.
Hmmm. I wonder.
76
One of yoga's most endearing qualities is its absolute flexibility.
I'm not talking about the inherent physical flexibility that yoga brings to the body, or the intellectual flexibility that yoga brings to the mind, but the flexibility of the practice itself. Its ability to be or not to be whatever the practitioner needs.
Hear me carefully, reader—needs, not wants. A subtle differen
ce, but a crucial one.
Me, I need yoga to be allegorical at times. I love the rich tapestry of myth and story that underlies the scientific philosophy that is modern yoga. I have said before, and I will say again, that yoga itself is not a religion. Alone, it is not. But it sprang from the religious tradition of Hinduism, an ancient faith ripe with story, folktale and myth. And while yoga today does not promote the Hindu faith, these stories are still available to those who wish to support their practice with them.
One advanced posture that I have mentioned before is a perfect example of this. Hanumanasana is a forward split. It takes open hips and a flexible spine to achieve the pose, and, alone, it is a method to lengthen hamstrings and hip flexors. But to practice Hanumanasana without its allegorical understanding is really just an exercise in "See how flexible I am?" (Or, in some cases, "See how flexible I am not?")
The posture takes its name from Hanuman, the Monkey King and loyal servant of Rama. Hanuman loved and held faith with his God over all others, trusting Rama implicitly. When he was asked to bring a ring to Rama's consort, Sita, he, of course, agreed. However, Sita was imprisoned on an island way out in the sea. Hanuman, trusting that he was supported by Rama, lept over the ocean — an impossible jump — to satisfy the task. It was his faith that carried him through.
So, you see, to practice Hanumanasana is to take a leap of faith. It is to allow your trust in God — any god, all gods — to become part of your practice and part of your life. And, no matter what your personal faith, to allow this kind of wholesale trust is to be prepared for whatever may come at you. It is also to understand that no matter how deep the chasm below you, or how wide the gulf before you, you are supported. It is possible to make astounding leaps based on faith alone and no matter whether you succeed or fail at your task, you are successful for undertaking the effort. You have already succeeded by trusting enough to try.
For me, this kind of marriage between posture and allegory is what makes my yoga a foundation for my life. I can remember to be like Hanuman when I feel frightened of a big challenge. I can invoke Hanuman when I approach Hanumanasana to believe that my body is capable of making this long-legged leap.
Does this mean I am practicing Hinduism? No. That religion, while lovely and rich, is not mine. I am practicing yoga. And in yoga, there is room for whatever faith supports you.
It is up to you to allow this into your practice. No one can take you there, and you would probably be pretty ticked if they tried. It is such a personal practice and faith is a matter between your heart and God. Your yoga is only as deep as you let it be. And if you never want to feel this faith, so be it.
But that doesn't mean its not there.
77
One of the many things that I love about yoga is that it can be prescriptive. By no means is it only that, but within it’s nature is a kernel of, “What’s the problem? Let me see what I’ve got for that.” And while I recommend a complete yoga program for anybody and everybody, there are times when you can simply pull out something that you need, be it a posture, a stretch or a breath and apply it to the problem at hand.
During the course of my study, I have found that the different methods of breathing are far and away the most useful tools in the arsenal of yoga knowledge. You can breathe a certain way to calm yourself down. You can breathe another way to energize yourself. You can breathe for focus.
There are breaths that bring your mind back into play when it gets sleepy, and breaths that convince it to shut up when it is racing. The study of breath is a fascinating one as it is multi-faceted. I have found that there is a breath tool for almost any need.
The breath we will discuss here is called the Sitali breath. I have pulled it out of the canon because it has one, very handy specific function and many, equally handy peripheral ones. But its primary use is for cooling the body and, I figured, as we all live in Florida it might be a nice thing for y’all to know. Aren’t I sweet?
I hope it goes without saying by now that when I discuss a breath it usually refers to a long, complete breath. There are some short, quick breaths, but unless otherwise stated, you should assume that a “breath” means one that uses the full mechanism. In other words, breathing through the belly, the ribs and the chest. The Sitali breath is one such.
So we will begin with this complete, slow breath. Sitting comfortably, really take the time to set this flow through the whole mechanism. In through the nose, out through the nose. Become comfortable with the cadence of this breath so that when you begin to move on to other things, the fullness of this breath will not leave you.
To move into the Sitali breath, stick out your tongue and curl it like you used to when you were a little kid. Almost like you were making a straw out of your tongue. Now, some people just can’t curl the tongue in this manner. (Somebody told me it was genetic thing, but that could be poo-huckey for all I know about it.) If you are one of these people, don’t fret. You can simply stick out the tongue like a dog. Not like you’re sticking your tongue out at a mean person, but relaxed, like a lazy pup on a summer day.
Still working with the long, slow breath, inhale over the tongue. Then pull it back into the mouth, exhaling through the nose. Then the tongue comes back out, inhale. Slips back in, exhale. And so on, and so forth. Because the tongue is naturally wet, this style of breathing cools the breath before it gets into the body, much in the same way a dog is cooled by panting. You should begin to notice this sensation after only a few inhales.
This is particularly useful after a workout, especially if you have been outside walking, biking or running. It is also remarkably successful at managing the effects of hot flashes. Furthermore, the Sitali breath is calming to both the body and the mind. So, not only do you cool off physically, but mentally as well.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I find that to be a good something to know. Maybe we’ll all save a few kilowatts on the A/C this summer. Or at least keep our heads out of the freezer….
78
Every instructor has a few favourite postures. Certain poses that they manage to slip into almost every class. We can’t help it if we love them.
Anyone who has studied with me for any length of time knows that one of my ‘frequently recurring’ asanas is Tree Posture. So much so that almost all of my regular students no longer need instruction. All I have to say is “shift your awareness to the left foot…” and everyone is suddenly an Oak.
I love this posture because it is so grounding. And so relevant. It connects you to the earth and expands you to the heavens. I adore it because it challenges the balance and strengthens one’s belief. Belief that a bridge to God is as common as a tree. To practice Tree is to trust that the earth supports you, the heavens accept you, and that the link between them resides within you.
Tree is very simple. Most days. Start in Mountain Posture with both feet firmly rooted into the ground. Try to achieve that lifting sensation out of the ankles, knees and hips that allows the spine to lengthen and expand out of the crown of the head. Think of standing as straight as possible without rigidity. Feel the four corners of the foot reaching into the ground like roots.
Shift the awareness to the left foot, softening the right foot from the floor. Bring the weight of the body completely onto the left foot and the sole of the right foot onto the inside of the left calf. The right knee is softly bent and rotating out. Bring the palms together, thumbs pressing into the heart. You may stay here if you like.
But to move on, grasp the right ankle in the right hand and bring that foot up so that the sole of the foot is pressing into the left groin. This helps to stabilize the left leg. Bring the hands back into prayer position. Try to lift out of the left hip and keep that right knee rotating out. Balance. Breathe. You may stay here if you like.
But to move on…lift the elbows up towards the sky and drop the joined palms behind the neck fingers pointing down. Then expand the hands up and out like branches, spreading the fingers as wide as you possibly can. Drop
the shoulders and lift the heart. Breathe here, reaching to the heavens and rooting into the earth.
While you are here think about trees. Connect with them. Could you stand like this for a hundred years? Would it hurt if someone cut you down? Would you want to hold up the sky and hold down the earth for the entirety of your life? And, relevantly, if the wind tore off your feet would you want someone to mourn your passing?
Trees are ancient and precious creatures, revered throughout myth and story as bridges between man and god, heaven and earth. They are the filter of the planet and part of its majestic beauty. Our lovely little town would not be half as lovely without our fine, old Banyans, Oaks and Palms. While they may seem a nuisance now, casualties of Hurricane Wilma, littered along yards, roads, and rooftops lets not forget their intrinsic value and presence. They are—or were—living things. They contribute. And I’m sorry if one landed on your roof, that stinks, but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t a malicious, kamikaze mission on their part. Right?
So as you look upon our fallen comrades and pick up the pieces of their shattered bones, stand on one foot and make a promise. Say, “Thank you Big Brother, for all of your work. I’m so sorry for your loss. Rest assured I shall put another in your place.”
Its only right.
79
Ever since I moved out of my parent’s house, my living spaces have been small--college dorms, crappy apartments, divided Victorians, old beach cottages, you name it. If it can be labeled ‘charming’ by a half-desperate landlord, I’ve probably rented it.
Having lived small for most of my adult life, it has become imperative that I learn how to purge. If an item hasn’t been used or seen in over a month or two, sayonara. Get rid of it. Pass it on. Sell it. Donate it. Whatever. Just get it out of the house. Sure, this has backfired a few times. (Read: crazy woman searching madly for those long gone pants--I didn’t get rid of them, did I?) But for the most part, this is a habit that I am grateful to have acquired.