our-yoga

Wow, it's been more than two weeks since I wrote anything here. I haven't been that busy, although the beginning of the academic year does bring with it its share of things to make one run around a little more than usual. I think the more significant reason for not blogging is a certain sense of ennui with online interaction: Recently, the idea of churning out a whole bunch of blog posts that are read by a whole bunch of people that I probably will never meet just seems... old and unsatisfying. Why go through the effort of doing that when we can interact with "real" people in real time?

But I see I'm being a downer here. So let's talk about something else. Well, what about this: Yesterday evening, I met a couple of friends for beer at a local brewery. When we came out of the brewery, it was drizzling, the sun was casting a very surreal light on the town, and there was a double rainbow in the sky! It was the first time that I had ever seen a double rainbow. One was brighter and more vivid than the other, which seemed to be a sort of shadow of the first. The brighter one was so full of color and vivid, and stretched from one end of the horizon to the other. Again, this may also be the first time I have actually seen a full rainbow that stretches from one end of the horizon to the other. Should have gone to the other horizon to see if there was a pot of gold there :-) Anyway, my friend took a picture of it, and I have asked her to email it to me. Maybe I will post it here soon.
 
Well, here's another problem with blogging: I just spent an entire paragraph painstakingly describing an experience whose essence has already been carried away and covered in the mists of time: No amount of vivid description will ever bring back that moment. So there is a certain futility about the whole process of blogging (and maybe even the very act of writing in general): We are trying to bring back something that is gone forever, using tools (words) that are hopelessly inadequate to the task. True, there is such a thing as great writing, but one gets the feeling that even great writing does not so much reconstruct the moment as create a new, virtual moment, one that exists only in the consciousness of the reader.

Update: Here are the pictures my friend took of the rainbows:

In other news: The weekend after next, I will be attending a workshop with Lino Miele in Bozeman, Montana. This is Lino's only trip to the US this year, and he will be teaching at the newly-opened Ashtanga Yoga School of Montana, which is run by his student Randa Chehab. I am very excited to have this opportunity to meet and study with Lino. If you are unfamiliar with Lino, have a look at my favorite Lino video:

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

During practice this morning, something which had never happened to me before happened: In Prasarita Padottanasana C, while trying to bring my interlaced fingers to the ground, I lost my balance, fell forward, rolled over and landed in that region somewhere between my butt and legs. It didn't hurt at all, but I think it would have been pretty funny to watch, if somebody had been watching. I'm not sure why this happened this morning, when it has never happened in all these years of practice, but I won't try to analyze this here. This makes me think that somebody should maybe put together a Youtube video consisting of practice bloopers (falling out of the prasaritas, falling out of handstand/headstand, landing heavily on one's butt when jumping through into Bhujapidasana... can anyone think of anything else?). Might be fun to watch :-)

Tim Miller's latest post on his blog is a great read. He relates his struggles with his Monday evening Intro to Ashtanga class. The entire post is very insightful, but the first few lines caught my attention:

"For the past 25 years I have been teaching an Introduction to Ashtanga Yoga class every Monday at 5:30pm.  This class began when we opened the North County Yoga Center in 1988 as my attempt to initiate beginners into a practice that is very challenging on many levels simultaneously.  Over the years I have attempted to present the practice in a user-friendly format, but if the practice is watered down too much it loses its primal potency."   

That last sentence ("if the practice is watered down too much it loses its primal potency") struck me as being a very apt description of what the practice is about. There is something about moving the body in accordance with the breath and a strict vinyasa count that gives a primal, potent transformative character to the practice. In her book, Sacred Fire, Kino observes that you can't beg, borrow, or fake your way through transformation (I'm paraphrasing here, as I don't have the book with me, but I'll be doing a proper review of the book here soon, so stay tuned). The only thing to do is to move and breathe with the vinyasa count as honestly as you can, and let the practice transform you on its own terms.

At his Montana workshop this past weekend, Lino emphasized the same point as well. He said that, in the early days of his studies with Guruji, he knew nothing about the vinyasa count; he didn't even know the names of the poses! He didn't have to, because he had memorized the sequence of postures, and all he had to do was listen to Guruji's instructions on when to do what during practice. The whole time, Guruji was saying a whole bunch of things in Sanskrit (what we now know as the vinyasa count) that nobody understood anything about. Somewhere in the early nineties, Lino began to spend more time studying with Guruji and asking him questions about the practice and the vinyasa count. And this led eventually to his publication of that book detailing the vinyasa count of the primary and intermediate series which is now almost a bible among many Ashtangis. By the way, Lino has published a new book, which I purchased at his workshop. This new book has the vinyasa count for primary, intermediate, as well as Advanced A and B. It also has a Q&A section at the beginning, in which Lino talks about his experiences with the practice and with Guruji. Perhaps I'll try to share excerpts from this book in future posts.

Anyway... that was a whole bunch of neither-here-nor-there thoughts about everything and nothing about the practice and vinyasa and breath. Maybe I'll have more to say later, but for now, there are a whole bunch of things that I need to get done for the day. So I'll leave you here with these thoughts.    

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

I suppose the more correct expression would be to say that I got stood on my hands during this morning's practice with Lino. But even this sounds wrong. But anyway, here's what happened. Towards the end of this morning's self practice with Lino, I did three Urdhva Dhanurasanas and three dropbacks and standups. Then I crossed my hands in front of my chest and waited for Lino to come over and drop me back. Lino came over, and asked me if I ever did handstand before. I said no; which is not, strictly speaking, true. I do play with handstands outside of practice now and then, but I knew that Lino was referring to going up into handstand and then dropping back into UD, so I simply said no, this is not part of my regular practice. Anyway, Lino asked me to give it a shot. I kicked up into handstand, Lino caught my feet and guided them part of the way down to the other side, so that my landing into UD from handstand wasn't so hard. And then he stood me up from UD. We repeated this handstand-UD-standup action three times. Then he dropped me back and stood me back up five times, before I went into the finishing sequence.

Now I'm wondering if I should incorporate this half-tick-tock sequence (I'm guessing this is what it's called) into my regular home practice, now that I have a senior teacher's blessing to do it. But then again, I won't have anybody at home to help me to cushion the landing into UD from handstand, so I am a bit hesitant. I suppose I'll come to a decision about this soon. But in the meantime, if you have any feedback and/or suggestions about this, I'll love to hear them.

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

Ha! I can't believe I am actually writing my second post in one day, after going for weeks where I would write once a week (or less). But it's been a great day here in Bozeman, Ashtanga-wise, so I thought I should write all this down somewhere before the mood leaves me.

So after lunch today, we had our second session with Lino, which was a Q&A session combined with some pranayama towards the end. Like many other senior teachers, Lino has his fair share of amusing Guruji stories, which he told in his Italian-accented English, complete with priceless lively gestures and facial expressions. I won't try to relate any of these here, as it is impossible to do justice to them in writing; you have to be there in the moment to hear them.

In addition to his Guruji stories, Lino also fielded many questions from the workshop participants. I asked him a couple of questions myself. One question I asked was about whether I should sweep my arms out to the side when coming up into Virabhadrasana A in Surya B (see previous post for more details on this), as I am afraid of hitting the person next to me if I do so. Lino replied by saying that when one sweeps the arms out to the side, one takes in more oxygen, and the pose also has a more energizing effect when done this way. As for the possibility of hitting people, one just has to be more aware of where other people are and what they are doing, in order to prevent hitting them.

All in all, the whole Q&A session was very engaging and enlightening. I'm very sure that all who were there benefited much from Lino's experience and insights.   

After the Q&A session, we had a little party in the parking lot of the building where the studio is in. There was a band playing, and lots of good food. I asked Lino if he would take a picture with me, and he agreed:

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

It's now about 9:20 a.m. in Bozeman, MT. About an hour ago, I finished self practice with Lino and his assistants at his workshop here at the Ashtanga Yoga School of Montana, and am now chilling and writing this post in a coffeeshop.

Self practice a.k.a. Mysore was good. Lino seems to be a very unassuming, no-nonsense kind of person, and he and his assistants do a very good job of working the room and giving adjustments/assists. I got a few interesting adjustments. In addition to the de rigueur adjustment in downward dog that pretty much everybody gets in the Suryas, I also got a few interesting pointers:

(1) In Surya B, one of Lino's assistants stopped me and asked me to redo both Utkatasana and Virabhadrasana A again, and told me that the arms should sweep outward to the sides as they arc up to the final overhead position. Over the last couple of years, I have gotten used to kind of just moving the arms straight up overhead from my torso, mainly for fear of hitting the person next to me if I sweep my arms out to the side. I wonder if there is some kind of anatomical or energetic effect that one can get from sweeping the arms out to the side that one can't get from simply moving them straight up overhead from the torso. Hmm... maybe I'll ask Lino during this afternoon's Q & A.

(2) In Padahastasana, Lino came over and asked me to get out of the posture. He then informed me that my feet were too wide in this pose; without being really conscious of it, my feet have been way wider than hips width in this posture. He told me that the feet should not be wider than the hips. Point taken :-)

(3) As this was my very first time practicing in front of Lino, I decided to just do full primary today. I assumed that also meant that for backbending, I should just do three Urdhva Dhanurasanas, then go into Paschimottanasana. Which is what I did.

But I suppose I should have known better than to think I can get away so easy. When I was in Sarvangasana (shoulderstand), Lino came over, pointed to my feet, and said, "Down! Down!" At first, I thought he meant that my feet were too far over my head in shoulderstand, and that he wanted me to move my feet so that they were more in line with my shoulders. So I tried to follow accordingly, and moved my feet as much above my shoulders as possible without having to get out of shoulderstand. But he still said, "Down! Down!" Which was when I realized that he wanted me to exit shoulderstand altogether. So I exited shoulderstand, and got to my feet. This is roughly how the conversation proceeded from this point: 

Lino: "Did you do three dropbacks and standups?"

Nobel [Ha! Busted!]: "No...I did three UDs and then Paschimottanasana."

Lino: "Okay. Now you do three dropbacks and standups. When you are finished, then you cross your hands in front of your chest like this [he showed me the crossed-hands-in-front-of chest position], and wait for me to come drop you back."

Nobel: "Yes." [What would have happened if I said no, I wonder?...]

So I did as he instructed. And after the three dropbacks and standups, he came over, dropped me back halfway five times. On the fifth time, I dropped my hands all the way to the ground, and he stood me up. And then I went into Paschimottanasana. End of story.

I've noticed that this workshop has attracted a lot of people from all over North America. I drove four-and-a-half hours to get here from Idaho. I noticed somebody who had driven here from Arizona, which is at least ten hours away. And a few other people drove eight hours from Saskatchewan, Canada. Which is not all that surprising, considering Lino's stature as a senior teacher, and the fact that he doesn't come to North America all that often.

That's all I have to say for now. I'm probably going to chill here for a few more hours till this afternoon's pranayama and Q&A session. Maybe I'll visit the used bookstore next door. Bozeman is a really nice town to visit. More later.          

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

It's now around 10: 45 p.m. I am in Bozeman, Montana. I got here a few hours ago, in preparation for Lino's workshop tomorrow morning (for more details on Lino's workshop here in Montana, see this post). Just learned that I am in the earliest batch of Mysore practitioners (actually, Lino calls Mysore "self-practice", but whatever... Tomato, Toe-Mah-Toe, all the same) tomorrrow morning at 7 a.m. And I just broke two cardinal Ashtanga rules: (1) I ate after 9 p.m., because I was just too hungry on arriving in Bozeman, and (2) I had two glasses of wine.

Will there be enough time for the wine and the food to be metabolized into my system by 7 a.m.? Well, there's one way to find out :-) I may or may not post about Lino's workshop while I'm here. Really can't seem to find much motivation to blog these days. But we'll see.

More later.  

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

This morning, I did my usual practice (full primary and second up to Supta Vajrasana). When I looked at my cellphone at the end of practice, I realized that the whole thing had taken just one hour and twenty-six minutes.  And I'm very sure I didn't skip any postures.

So yes, I did full primary plus one third of second series in a sizzling one hour and twenty-six minutes! Which means I had broken the "sound barrier", as far as my own practice is concerned: I've never been able to get through a practice of this length in so short a time before. Which is curious, because the pace of the practice didn't feel particularly sizzling when I was doing it. I didn't feel like I was rushing through anything. I suppose it is always possible that I was rushing through chaturanga, thus shaving off a few minutes... but really, how many minutes can one shave off by skimping on the chaturangas? Or maybe it's the weather; it's finally starting to get really warm here in Idaho. Could warm weather make one move faster? Or maybe I had shaved another few minutes off by breathing shorter breaths in Navasana; for many people (including probably myself), unless you are following somebody else's count (e.g. Sharath: "Ashtau up, exhale down, Supta aagain Nawasana!..."), there is always a tendency to speed up one's breath and count in this pose (for rather obvious reasons).

Well, speaking of Navasana, let's take a look at what is arguably the most famous Navasana video ever made. Here's Lino, floating from Navasana into handstand and then back into Navasana, and looking like he's taking a walk in the park the whole time:

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities

I'm now in Bozeman, Montana, attending Randa Chehab's workshop at Down to Earth Yoga. Randa has recently returned from her annual studies with Lino Miele in Kovalam, and is sharing what she learned with us in this workshop. Randa is a person who is real, full of zest for life, and also full of stories. I won't share any of her stories here, not because they cannot be shared, but because I don't feel like relating them now :-)

This morning, we did led primary to her count. Unlike Sharath's vinyasa count, which is very brisk, her count is very deliberate, measured, and almost melodic. I'm not sure if this is how Lino himself counts, or if it's just her. Although the substance of the count is the same, there are nevertheless a few interesting differences between Lino's count and Sharath's. For instance, in Baddha Konasana, Sharath counts you into Baddha A, then Baddha B, then you lift up and jump back into the vinyasa. With Lino, however, there is an additional five breaths (Baddha C?) where you just sit upright in Baddha Konasana, before you lift up and jump back. I actually like this way of doing the posture. Gives you an extra five breaths to open the hips some more. Besides, when in Rome (and Lino, incidentally, is Italian), one should do as the Romans do.

Another interesting difference is that Lino incorporates pranayama into the finishing padmasana (just before Utplutih). What this means is that the ten breaths in padmasana are long breaths: Five to eight seconds inhale, five to eight seconds exhale, with a brief breath retention in the space between inhale and exhale, and between exhale and inhale. I have a feeling that Grimmly would have liked to be at this morning's session :-)

And actually, I think I got a high from doing this pranayama. After the session, I went to the local co-op to get something to eat. After I had finished my food (roasted potatoes with rosemary, assorted fall vegetables, and kale), I suddenly felt very, very calm. It kind of felt like I was sitting at the bottom of the ocean floor, and everything and everybody around me seemed to be moving just a little slower than usual. I just sat there for a few minutes, looking into space, not feeling like getting up. Eventually, I made myself get up, because I had this feeling that people around were starting to think I was a little... out of it. I think this "deep ocean" sensation may have been induced with that pranayama thing we did in padmasana, because that is the one biggest thing we did that was different from my usual practice, which actually does not include pranayama at all. Well, actually, come to think of it, maybe it could also have been induced by that unusual drink (some kind of infusion made from the flower of the Hawaiian kona coffee plant) I had with my food. Well, who knows? ;-)

In addition to the workshop, I have also been spending my time here at Bozeman reading zombie literature. Yes, you heard it right. I'm not usually a fan of horror novels, but I picked up this book, World War Z, at a bookstore in Pocatello the other day, and haven't been able to put it down since. It's about a mysterious infection that originated in China (seriously... I think China is becoming the new boogeyman of American pop fiction) which quickly kills off its victims, and then reanimates them into flesh-eating beings with primitive brains carried around in what was once their bodies (i.e. zombies). The Chinese government, as usual, tries to hush up and contain the infection. However, thanks to modern wonders like international travel and illegal organ trade (be careful: You may unwittingly become the recipient of a zombie heart or a zombie kidney), and thanks to American complacence (most middle class Americans are too preoccupied with more immediate worries like paying the mortgage and having enough funds for retirement to worry about some distant infection from China, until it's too late...), the infection quickly spreads around the world, and soon becomes uncontainable. Before we know it, mankind finds itself finding a new world war (World War Z) against zombies.

A very compelling read this is. I highly recommend it. Oh, and here's a fun fact about zombies (you may already know this, anyway): Since zombies are basically dead people with (minimally functioning) brains, they cannot be killed by most conventional methods: Trying to destroy their hearts and other vital organs is useless, since they really don't need those organs to survive (they're dead, remember?). The only way to "kill" a zombie is to destroy its brain, either by blowing it out with firearms (come to think of it, if there really are zombies, wouldn't the NRA have a really good case?) or by smashing it to a pulp (there are many ways to do this; I shall leave this to your imagination). And this fun fact about zombies also lends itself to some interesting philosophical/existential musing. Consider this little speech by one of the characters in the novel:

"...why wouldn't destruction of the brain be the only way to annihilate these creatures [i.e. zombies]? Isn't it the only way to annihilate us as well?... Isn't that all we are? Just a brain kept alive by a complex and vulnerable machine we call the body? The brain cannot survive if just one part of the machine is destroyed or even deprived of such necessities as food or oxygen. That is the only measurable difference between us and "The Undead." Their brains do not require a support system to survive, so it is necessary to attack the organ itself."

Hmm... are we really just brains "kept alive by a complex and vulnerable machine"? If this were true, why do we spend so much time doing things to the body that are not, strictly speaking, necessary for its functioning to keep the brain alive (putting on makeup, wearing nice clothes, "looking presentable", etc., etc.)? And, by the way, do we do yoga only in order to keep the body functioning to keep the brain alive? I doubt it...

Anyway... I don't suppose you were expecting to hear this long-drawn-out treatise about zombies and the human condition. So I guess I'll stop here. Oh, and by the way, if there were ever a zombie invasion, Montana and Idaho are probably very good places to hide out. Zombies, as you know, move very slowly and have limited mobility compared to humans (which kind of makes me wonder why more humans aren't more successful in running away from them). Which means they can't climb. Which means mountains are good barriers against them. Another fun zombie fact :-)               

we recommend you to buy some goods below for comfort, safety and ease of your yoga activities