The Yoga Blog

East meets West

In reading a book on yin yoga for our next TT session, I was struck by the descriptions of yin and yang as they apply to exercise, yoga and the body, not to mention Chinese medicine. The two aspects work as complementary and symbiotic opposites, but they also imply paradoxes. It’s interesting, for example, that the front body is considered yin, the “stable unmoving, hidden aspect of things,” and the back body is yang, the “moving, changing, revealing” aspect. In yoga, the front body is also the eastern side; the back body, the western side. To the degree that you accept duality and a black-and-white world, fine.

So this made me think of the sunrise and sunset. (It also made me think of a Shakespeare passage I had to memorize in high school: “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.” Oh! And the “Fiddler on the Roof” dirge. “Sunrise, sunset // Sunrise, sunset // Swiftly flow the days // Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers // Blossoming even as we gaze.” Then there’s “Annie,”  but I’m not going there.)

Anyhoo, back to paradox. The sun “rises” in the east and “sets” in the west. Yet we greet the day, and the world, with our seemingly exposed front body. How can it then be considered hidden? Because we naturally seek to protect it — well, really, what we’re talking about is the heart here — at the same time? It is the side of the body we present, the side that we ourselves can most easily see. The sun “sets” in the west, when day is done, and yet the back body is largely invisible to us, even repressed or ignored, in daily life. We don’t walk backward, after all. I’m not sure what to make of this duality. In asanas, paschimottanasana (seated forward fold) in Sanskrit means a stretch of the western (paschima) or back body. So as we fold into our front, hidden(?) selves, we stretch the largely unseen and yet, according to yang descriptions, exposed side. Maybe exposed here could also mean vulnerable. I guess this explains why backbends, which call upon our yang/western bodies and stretch our yin/eastern bodies, are exposed, look-at-me, heart-opening poses. Then there’s the horrible (for me) purvottanasana (upward facing plank), a stretch of the eastern (purva) body. Stretching the hidden side. Hmm.

I guess what it comes down to is that I still wonder what it means if one is naturally drawn to forward folds vs. backbends. Are you a sunrise or a sunset kind of person? A morning person, or a night owl? I think one goal of yoga, or at least one major point to it, is to unite and eradicate dualities and create a third, pure channel (the spine, hello?). Absolute balance and alignment. Fleeting though it may be.

I hope this makes sense. Still trying to work it out.

Hare calm

In the middle of a yoga class Monday, there I was, lying on the ground doing I can’t remember what, when I heard music. But it was all in my head: The hare rama/hare krishna chant that we teacher trainees did in class with Leah B. Saturday had bubbled up during a moment of peace and relaxation, like a silent lullaby. The funny thing is, it also bubbled up a day later at work during, shall we say, a not so peaceful and relaxing moment. It helped calm me down, as if the mantra was knocking on some sort of door to say, Remember me? Get a grip. It was nice that it popped up spontaneously, but I wondered: What if I can call it up whenever I want? Wherever I am? Sweet.

Cultivate the opposite

I am reading Dona Holleman’s “Dancing the Body of Light” Chapter 6 (yes, I am doing my homework very last minute for the Boundless Teacher Training program!) and I am struck by this idea of deliberately and intentionally cultivating the opposite emotion when we are faced with stress, anger, anything negative. Acknowledge the negative and then, cultivate – in your heart, your mind, your actions, your behavior towards others – the opposite. So simple, and yet so unbelievably hard. There is a four alarm fire going off in my brain right now. This is a skill I must work on! I want to begin to create my own reality by figuring this out. How have you cultivated the opposite? How has it helped?

“hope her wings don’t fail her now.”

so, i’m driving to the studio this morning, and it’s so overcast, and for whatever reason it’s making people drive unbearably slow. i am situated behind a turtle of a driver trying to practice my patience when i decide the real problem is how utterly bored i am. so i decide to randomly shout in my car, “THIS IS SO BORING!!!!!! BORING BORING BORING” outloud. great idea!!!!!!! as soon as i heard my voice aloud, i remembered what interests me most – -  MY FEMUR BONES. here’s the deal – i’m a vocalist, and i’ve got to tell you, since practicing yoga at Boundless, I have discovered that my femurs are fascinating. As are yours, I promise. so i shout to myself in the car “BORING BORING BORING!” (which in and of itself is amusing) and i get to (YAY) hear my own voice. (i highly recommend you talk aloud to yourself and listen. there is a goldmine of information about your body in what you will hear.) what did i hear this morning????

i heard a little grey, a little cloudy-ness. and i cleaned it right up by relocating my femurs in their sockets by engaging my quads and softening my calf muscles. and squeezing my butt a little, fine i admit it. before i knew it – i was belting out this song (cue youtube link) : how it feels to fly by alicia keys, key lyrics of interest: “i hope my wings dont fail me now.”

i hope your wings don’t fail you now, on this and any cloudy day. stay un-boring by being interested in yourself and your body and your voice. for inspiration come to my yoga class on sundays at 4 pm!!! i will teach you everything i’ve learned from james foulkes and kim weeks about my femurs and my butt. i want you belting out beautiful lyrics at the top of your voice!! xox kelly

So you think you can pose

Why are yoga asanas, by and large, discrete? Why are they meant to be held? Who designed and named them and figured out that holding them is a good thing? More than asking what yoga is, I wonder why we do it at all. If you’re drawn to the spiritual aspects, what do you make of the asanas? Why does the larger practice have a physical component, aside from the obvious mind-body aspirations?

What does it all mean?

I was wondering about this while watching the Mark Morris dance company Saturday at George Mason. After the first of the three numbers, I said to my husband, Well, that was nice and all, but did it mean anything? He said, Does it have to?

I imagine the dances mean something to their creator and the performers, but like any art form, dance is subjective and open to interpretation. Morris is known for grounding his works in music, which is its own art form, but in watching the second piece Saturday, I had to scratch my head in wondering how the movement fit with the music (which I wasn’t familiar with) and what the two parts, music and dance, meant together. What were the dancers trying to tell us? Their bright costumes reminded me of a psychedelic marching band that ran off to join the circus … during the Civil War? My husband said it reminded him of Chinese guards (and the piece was called “Empire Garden,” so he might’ve been on to something).

I don’t have the stomach to get all post-modern about anything anymore, so I decided to just let the sounds and movement wash over me, which was easier in the third piece, a lovely and flowing number with blue and green costumes and lighting that made me think of the ocean. Or of flying through the sky, looking down at the earth. I watched as the bodies formed shapes and then joined other bodies to make bigger shapes, using an alphabet of steps and gestures, some of which were repeated in patterns that formed a larger narrative. I’ve no idea what the narrative was supposed to be in any of the pieces (there were no Cliffs notes in the program!), and it doesn’t really matter.

Art, and yoga, can certainly be transcendental, but sometimes a grand jete is just a grand jete, and a down dog is just a down dog. And that’s okay.