yogas citta vritti nirodhah --slowing the fluctuations of the mind via the body...

Patanjali defines yoga in his second sutra, and states: “yogas citta vritti nirodhah” –yoga stills the fluctuations of the mind…  which is one definition of yoga, and one that we often don’t think of oddly, when we define yoga.  Whenever I ask a class to tell me what yoga means, the most common answer (and it IS a good one!) is that yoga means union, which it does, but it means other things as well. I would like to take a look at stilling the vicissitudes of the mind via the body.

Patanjali is referring to the process of meditation, or moving our attention inwards, so as to slow or stop the many different ways the mind has of jumping around from thought to thought. We can never really stop the mind from thinking –that is its job, after all, and to ask it to stop doing that is self-defeating. That doesn’t mean we can’t train it to be less “monkey-like” –flitting from thought to thought with little awareness of what it’s doing. In meditation, and indeed, in the recitation or singing of mantra, or even in the execution of asanas, we are offered the opportunity to allow the mind to slow down and focus. The key here is slowing down enough to learn to focus.

I am all for whatever brings people through the yoga door, so-to-speak. And if that is in a room full of hundreds of people, with loud music and heat, well, whatever! That sort of practice can be really beneficial to many people (not everyone, to be sure, but for many, already fit people, it’s a way in). That said, at a certain point, we all need to slow it down, start to pick it apart, and really pay attention to the movements being made, so that it becomes more of a deliberate meditation rather than an exercise class done to yoga music with some “yoga speak” in the background. Don't get me wrong --i love those classes; they're fun and challenging. But I know what I'm doing! And I've done the work. Years of it, in fact.

I know what I’m asking is difficult. It’s hard to move slowly; it’s hard to pay attention. But if yoga is anything –it is certainly about paying attention. I’ve heard many people going into or out of vinyasa classes, saying “I just need to flow today” –which I totally understand, sometimes your body just needs to move, and then the mind can start to settle (I used to run 7 miles to ashtanga vinyasa practice and then home –so I get it, I really do!) And I used to HAVE to do 2 hours of asana before I could sit to meditate. I was just not capable of sitting still until I had completely exhausted my physical body.

I still prefer to practice asana first, as I find that it does help to quiet my mind (and in working with juveniles at the detention center, they do much better when we can work out the heebie-jeebies first –then we do yoga nidra, which they love!) The point is: we need help getting the mind to settle. And one of the ways we can do that is to slow down the physical practice and really start to learn the postures. Similar to what happens in a Mysore-style classroom in the Ashtanga Vinyasa system, where a student is given each pose in the sequence one at a time, so she has time to really learn it. 

Interestingly, but not surprisingly though, most people don’t want to start at the beginning –so we have students with little or no yoga experience landing in challenging vinyasa classes where the only instruction they’re given is the name of the pose. This is fine for many people –they can probably sustain that for a while before they get injured from doing a pose in a way that is not suited for their body at the time –or even maybe ever! I’ve seen some headstands that would make anyone who knows anything about the spine cringe if not cry out loud. But again, try to take those students and actually get them to see that a fair amount of work has to happen before their body really should be doing said posture –well, they ain’t havin’ it. They want the big, sexy poses, and we, as teachers, let them.  Because we’re afraid that if we don’t offer the flashy, sexy stuff, they won’t come. And you know what –we’re right. Many of them won’t. I’ve had a lot of feedback from people who when they actually start instructing people in the correct execution of the postures for their bodies (“you need to do some work before you’re ready for that” to use our headstand  example –the shoulders need a fair amount of opening before bearing weight on the head can be done safely) are met with outright resistance, and then they just go to another class where they’re allowed to do what they want. I am in no way saying that we shouldn’t be teaching these poses –but the point is, they need to be taught!!  Calling out “come into headstand” is not teaching the pose, and unless we know every single body in that classroom and know that each one of them is bearing weight correctly through the vertebral bodies and not in any other way, we have no business using that pose in a flow sequence. 

I’m picking on headstand, but there are myriad other postures that also apply. “Pigeon” is another. Unsupported hanuamanasana another, pincha mayurasana another. The human body can sustain much abuse, but eventually –over time, the joints will suffer if these poses are not learned properly, and by that, I mean slowly, with attention and lots of supports if necessary. Now if we want to teach headstand, or pigeon, or any other posture that could be potentially dangerous for the joints, we can certainly do that –but it would necessitate stopping the flow of the class and doing what Patthabi Jois, and my friend and teacher Nicki Doane call “research”, which is essentially breaking the pose down into its components and preparatory movements to actually teach the body how to do the pose safely and appropriately for each individual. I’ll admit –this requires some knowledge of anatomy –and likely more than you got in your 3-week, 200-hour teacher training. It is our responsibility as yoga teachers to actually teach the postures. So you may need to get some more education to be able to really teach people those poses. Just because you can do it yourself, doesn’t mean you can teach it; and similarly, you don’t really have to be able to do each pose you teach if you can understand the basic structure of the pose and how it works in the body.

I guess I’m agreeing with Leslie Kaminoff in his call for a differentiation between those who have memorized a sequence and put together a playlist, and learned how to tell cool yoga-related stories while offering a fun flow, and those who are actual teachers of yoga. But no one wants to learn it the old-fashioned way. Or few do. Few in this culture of immediate gratification are willing to slow down, back up if necessary, and do the work! I was not born with my leg behind my head or balancing on my arms in forearm balance. It took YEARS of hard, persistent work –every damn day, before I could do any of that. Or at least in a way that could be described as yoga.

Yoga takes years. I’m sorry, but it does. And 5 years of practice is nothing. You’re still a beginner. Which is a good thing!! We want to maintain what they call in Zen practice "the beginner mind". Sure, some people are more in their bodies and can learn the poses safely and properly more quickly than others, but even they need to take the time it takes to learn the poses in a way that is integrated and, yes, yoga! Execution of “advanced” asanas does not a yogi make… nor does calling them out in a flow sequence make you a good teacher. Teaching them does.

To return to Patanjali and stilling the fluctuations of the mind –yoga is many, many things, and there are many ways to still the mind, but all of them require paying attention –if only to the fact that your mind is wandering again! We train the mind using the body –and the only way to really do that in a sustainable way is to do the work. Slow down and do the work. There are no shortcuts, I’m sorry to say. There are ways of distracting yourself to be sure, but there is no substitute for deliberate, slow, and attentive practice. But you know that already deep down inside. 

Why I Am Not Going To Stop Teaching Yoga...

This is not for those who don't like to read... it's long and a little painful!! But worth the read...

https://moonlitmoth.wordpress.com/2014/11/24/why-i-stopped-teaching-yoga-my-journey-into-spiritual-political-accountability/

I'm not sure what to think -- i agree with a lot of it, but some of it stings --should only people who's ancestors practiced yoga be able to practice yoga today? (or any other spiritual practice that is not their ancestor's for that matter--not the exercise regime under the auspices of spiritual practice as it is mostly taught for sure). Not all South Asian's practiced yoga historically, and it is my understanding that Vivekenanda, Yogananda, Satcitandanda, and the others who brought yoga to the West all said that yoga would be reborn here; that it was dying in India, and they wanted to bring it to the larger world.... I'm sure they would roll over in their graves if they saw what parades as yoga practice today --and the commoditization of it, but is she actually arguing that we should remain locked into our own cultural heritage regardless of what that heritage offers us (or doesn't)?

What happens to someone who doesn't resonate with their spiritual/cultural heritage? --What are gay Catholics supposed to do? What if your cultural heritage doesn't speak to you in any way? Should Africans not be practicing yoga? Who gets to decide what cultural appropriation is in a system that is founded on adaptability and change --of both self and system? (And as a couple of my dear friends have pointed out --she's drowning in white guilt. Should I not eat pasta because I'm not Italian; can I not play the djembe because I'm not African?) Obviously not. All cultures shift and change and adapt, and this is not only no exception. Yoga is founded on change. That's what it's all about in a sense.

I'm not one who believes that asana is yoga --it's one very small part (which i know is rarely taught in the West) --but that said --i agree that we need to look at what we are teaching (as a yoga teacher and trainer of yoga teachers) --but the history of yoga itself is replete with upheavals in theory and change --that is one of the amazing things about yoga --it changes and shifts based on what people have needed from it over the centuries --it has changed and evolved and is not a monolithic entity.... the various schools of yoga exist precisely because everyone is different, and there are many doors in. Bhakti, Mantra, Raja, Hatha, Karma, Jnana.... they are all different paths to a similar end --freedom. I have no interest in going to a heaven where God is going to judge me for my sins... am i supposed to suffer through that system just because i didn't have the luck to be born on the sub-continent? She argues that everyone should research their ancestry and adopt a spiritual practice that is culturally appropriate. She points out that what we are doing to yoga is akin to what Christianity did to the ancient earth-based religions of Europe. What if that doesn't speak to you either? Are you really stealing something that was offered to you by those whose tradition it is? Vivekananda and company wanted to bring vedanta (his tradition of yoga) to the world:

Each soul is potentially divine. The goal is to manifest this Divinity within by controlling nature, external and internal. Do this either by work, or worship, or mental discipline, or philosophy—by one, or more, or all of these—and be free. This is the whole of religion. Doctrines, or dogmas, or rituals, or books, or temples, or forms, are but secondary details.  (Jackson, Carl T (1994), "The Founders", Vedanta for the West: the Ramakrishna movement in the United States)

My yoga practice is what keeps me sane, and teaching as well --I think we need to ask the questions --for sure. But am not sure i agree completely with her answers... but then, that's me --a white yoga teacher. Maybe it's my inability to deal with the fact that i have no business doing what i do. Am i left with my ethnic heritage's spiritual practice or no spiritual practice at all? I hear that some South Asians feel the west has appropriated their religious/spiritual identity and has changed it in an ugly way. I cannot argue with that. But I would also offer that the nature of yoga is change.

In no way am i suggesting that the way things are today are they way they should continue ---and as a white-privileged woman, I certainly can understand that some South Asians are horrified by what is out there as yoga --but I've also heard from some Indian students that they found yoga here in the West, and feel that they have been given access to something they wouldn't have had access to at home --and that it's being re-introduced into their culture that was largely letting it go, or had been encouraged/forced to do so by colonial British rule. Vivekananda spent much time touring India teaching, and trying to reintroduce his interpretation of vedanta to his homeland. He was a tireless social activist who argued that we need to work to end poverty first and foremost. Mahatma Ghandi added that he was among the reformers "who have maintained this Hindu religion in a state of splendor by cutting down the dead wood of tradition" (Parel, Anthony (2000), Ghandi, Freedom, and Self-Rule)

This isn't the first time that yoga (which has its roots in vedanta) has had a reformation of sorts --when Patanjali codified the yoga sutras (if he was indeed one person, which is highly unlikely) --it was in response to the disassociation of spiritual practice from the people. The priests set themselves up in a system that birthed the caste system --which they were at the top of-- --then Patanjali (around the same time as the Buddha) came along and said that people do not need priests to communicate with God or Spirit --it is accessible to each and every one of us -and you don't even have to believe in God necessarily to be free of the confines of material existence... it is available here and now. That's "classical yoga"

Then later in time --it became clear that people were unable to sit still and meditate; --which is what classical yoga practice is (our minds were too busy and unsteady) --and someone came up with the idea that we access and train the mind via the body --so along comes Hatha Yoga --the yoga of the body and the codification of asana. Asana is at this time only a part of a larger system designed to train the mind to meditate... not an end in itself.

And here we are --yoga is not what it was during vedic times, medieval times, nor even at the beginning of the 20th century. (As a matter of fact, what we know as yoga dates from the 1930's) --so what? Are we to dismiss it completely because it has departed from its origins in the Vedas? If that is true --then no one should be doing yoga. The rishis (the vedic "seers") took psychedelic plants, and journeyed --and came back and sang the Vedas. In most countries of the world these plants are illegal, thus unavailable to the larger population --and i have a feeling that even if we had access to those plants and medicines, that we have devolved spiritually so much that we wouldn't be able to hear the songs... at least that is the theory. The practices have evolved to meet the needs of humanity --and we have become so gross, that we need to be hit over the head with the grossest aspects of the practice to find the more subtle ones.

So --i guess I would have to argue --yeah --we need to smarten up our yoga --we need to study the history and place it in context. And you're not necessarily to get that at your local vinyasa studio --or gym, or even in a 200-hour teacher training. (You will find a lot of enthusiastic, loving souls though!) We need to do the work --and part of that work involves recognizing that we have adopted an ancient system and changed it. It is rarely "traditional" any more --and i'm not sure that's entirely bad. Not everyone has the patience to study it in this way, in this depth... i know this because my classes are small, as are my trainings. It's difficult. It is not an easy path --but as to the cultural appropriation argument against my even attempting it --what in this world remains the same? Do we really want it to? These are questions i'm asking honestly. I'm not saying it's okay to take a 2-week teacher training after having attended a retreat in Costa Rica and go out there and claim to be able to teach yoga--that is arrogant and frankly dangerous in some ways. (ok, maybe you're qualified to lead a class that you've memorized a script for, but I would argue (and agree with Leslie Kaminoff here) that you're an instructor, not a teacher). Having spent a large portion of my life studying the different systems of yoga --in depth, and with much effort, I have to say --i'm not sure I agree with someone who barely has scratched the surface of the larger yoga lexicon --and i'm not sure it's okay for her to tell me that I shouldn't be practicing or teaching because it's inauthentic and appropriating another culture's spiritual practices and history, of which she is fairly ignorant. Though to her credit --she at least knows that!  

She's right --she shouldn't be teaching yoga if what she knows as yoga is an exercise regime. To be fair --she acknowledges that her training was not all that --and has declined to further the illusion of yoga as exercise, which is good. But to stop practicing because she's afraid she's stealing someone else's spiritual practice is, in this instance, unfortunate. Vivekenanda and the others wanted to bring yoga to the world to help save humanity and integrate all religious and spiritual traditions. Again --i am in no way arguing that what we have today is what they envisioned. But I have to wonder if yoga is not more powerful and transformative than she is giving it credit for. In my experience, many people come in the door through the exercise regime (which makes sense --there is a vinyasa studio on every corner these days). But many of them become intrigued by something that goes beyond the physical. Yoga changes us. For the better. (Which is precisely why so many of us want to bring it to "underserved" populations!) I've seen its effects on kids in jail --it changes them, and I'm sorry, without going off on another tangent, it is our obligation as yoga teachers to offer this to whomever we can --whether in jails, in inner cities, or in countries where they've never heard of it before.  You don't have to go into those communities with the attitude that you're going to "save" anyone --all we do is offer what we have. Breath, movement, and self-inquiry. That's it. I'm not telling anyone to believe anything. I'm not saving anyone. I'm sharing what has helped me to become a better person and what has saved my life. I don't imagine that I'm responsible for saving anyone else. But if I can offer another person even a part of the peace i have found through my yoga practice, then i have a hard time believing that's a bad thing. I believe that even if all one ever accesses is the physical practices, that person is going to find more peace. Part of the beauty of the system is its accessibility. All you need is desire and a body in which to work. Desire to see and feel things differently --and this is universally available to everyone. Though we bow to the traditions that have brought us this far (Vedanta, Samkya, Classical, Tantra, to name just a few), we also accept that change is part and parcel of the deal. The original codifiers of yoga never argued that it was a system that was static. The nature of the philosophy was based on heated debate and adapting to changes in the human experience.

There are some authentic yoga teachers out there who offer a full understanding of what yoga is. Admittedly, they are few and far between. But they honor the tradition from which they came --which they were offered by their teachers. Yes, there have been changes. Again --yoga is all about shifts and changes, and I am unsure if that qualifies as cultural appropriation, or further indication of yoga's universality. I'm not saying that we are not appropriating the spiritual practices --we are. I'm not Indian. But I think when we are talking about spiritual (or even religious) practice - - the idea of separateness is the problem. The idea that one way is okay for one group of people and only that group of people, further separates us from our 'brothers and sisters' (as Vivekenanda greeted the world parliament of religions in 1893). Until all religions understand the universality of Spirit, then we will continue to be locked in a world where innocents are killed in the name of religion and spiritual hierarchy. As Patanjali argued --it is the mistaken identification of the larger Self with the smaller egoic self that is the cause of suffering. Our inability to see that we are ultimately all Spirit --that this life we live is one created by the ego's attempt to define itself as "all that" is what creates the suffering. Yoga takes on the larger problem of consciousness --and that knows no cultural boundaries. Consciousness is a universal experience that cannot be bound by dogma --whether Hindu, Christian, Wiccan, Muslim, or non-denominational. And those who brought yoga to the West were all about dismantling the barriers that keep us from realizing the true Self.

We need to listen --listen to those teachers who are still alive --who still maintain a tradition of scholarship and inquiry. We need to read all we can and learn about the history of yoga and its philosophy. We need to make sure that what we are putting out there is not just yoga-speak, new-age mish-mash. Read the Sutras. Read the Pradipika. Read the Gita. For that matter, read the Mahabarata and the Ramayana and the Puranas and the Upanishads! Read the Bible and the Quran. And do your practice --whatever form that takes. Spirit --God, if you want-- cannot be confined by the human experience or mind.

When Krishna says to Arjuna, 

You should know that My spirit is your soul. Your soul is the sprit of God in you... I am in everyone's heart, in everyone's memory, their wisdom and their thinking... the soul, the spirit of God in you, is real forever

he speaks to humanity --not just Arjuna. I'll keep teaching and practicing. To do otherwise would be disingenuous.

Opening the Heart

We hear it all the time in yoga class, especially in backbends: “Open your heart!” “Lead with your heart!” “Reach your heart up and push it forward!” The problem is, I’m not really sure that we actually want to do that. Not exactly. You see, anatomically, the heart attaches to the back of the breathing diaphragm via the pericardium, a fascial sac that wraps the heart and interfaces with the lungs and the breathing diaphragm. When we inhale, the breathing diaphragm presses down; and, if we apply bandha, the pelvic floor widens. On exhale, the breathing diaphragm domes up; and the pelvic floor condenses and lifts slightly. So, when we inhale and the breathing diaphragm spreads and drops, which it does; then the heart also drops down slightly and rocks back, massaged between the lungs. In fact, each breath is an opportunity to allow the heart to rest.

So, why would we ask our students to push their hearts forward in a backbend? Go ahead and do it. Push your heart forward and up as you reach your arms up over your head. Now, do it again. But this time, pause. Close your eyes and allow your heart to rest back and down on that inhale as you reach up. As you exhale, continue to allow the heart to rest on the cradle of the diaphragm. With each breath, allow the heart to be supported and massaged by the lungs. How does that feel?

I understand that we’re probably asking people to do is to open up the heart space – in an effort to encourage emotional opening, or to counteract physical restriction and collapse of the front chest. But, in giving the direction to push the heart or lead with it, we’re asking people to do something that actually goes against the natural rhythm and movement that the breath itself creates; we’re asking them to do something that causes a restriction of the breath! I believe there’s a softer way.

We can (and we can ask our students to) lift the sternum and rib cage while resting the heart on the back of the breathing diaphragm. This way, the heart stays soft and quiet. We aren’t giving our bodies mixed messages, but rather we’re encouraging the natural movement of the heart and breath together. I think it’s much more productive to encourage students to soften the heart/heart space rather than encourage them to push through the heart, which will lead to the hardening of its fascial sac – the pericardium – and ultimately, the heart itself.

Over the years, I’ve resisted that direction of reaching with the heart, or pushing the heart forward/up/anywhere. Following that direction just never felt right to me in my body. As a matter of fact, it causes me to become fairly anxious! I already struggle with anxiety and depression, so those “heart opening” backbends are arguably poses of which I should avail myself, and do . . . But not in that way. I’ve found that I’m much more able to find the lift of the chest with the heart resting back than I am by initiating that movement with the heart itself.

In Chinese medicine, the heart is the storehouse of Joy. Its element is Fire. “The power of fire comes from its ability to liberate heat and light and realize joy and fulfillment.” Beinfield, Harriet, and Efrem Korngold. Between Heaven and Earth; A Guide to Chinese Medicine, (New York: The Random House Publishing Group, 1991), 189. But it needs to be tempered. Too much fire/heart can cause mania and burnout. We want the uplift, but not too much! Again, I believe that what we really want to ask our students to do is to soften the heart.  Not push it, or even reach it. Surely we want to encourage our students to love and allow love; we want them to experience the softness of a heart that trusts. But I don’t think we really want anyone to push her or his heart anywhere. I think we want them to learn to feel. And we learn to feel by softening and slowing down – paying attention to what we do and how it makes us feel. A friend of mine recently posted a beautiful quote by Cynthia Ocelli:

For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out, and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction”

Yes. And in order for the seed to crack open, it requires moisture. Softness. Richard Freeman mentions it in his audio lecture series, The Yoga Matrix: The Body as a Gateway to Freedom. We are like little seeds. We water the seeds, and they soften so that the spirit living within can emerge and begin to be known. A seed in dry soil isn’t going to grow until the rain comes. The rain softens the ground and the seed’s covering so that the seed can open up and make its way towards the sun.  We need a balance of softening and effort in the body, so the soul can make itself known, much like the seed in the soil needs water and sunlight to grow!  

Now, if pushing or reaching with your heart makes you feel good, protected, and ready to love then do so! But if it’s never really worked for you – if you’ve ever wondered what an open heart even is – well then, try softening the whole operation. Try allowing your heart to rest while it nourishes the entire body/mind with precious life-giving blood. Its steady rhythm keeps your body’s time. When coming into any back bend, try lifting the sternum without pushing the heart. See if you can find the buoyancy that the lungs provide the thoracic halves (the rib cage), and allow the lungs to massage the heart, softening it back as the breathing diaphragm carries it along on the journey of the breath.

Bhavani Maki, in her book The Yogi’s Roadmap: The Patanjali Yoga Sutra as a Journey to Self Realization writes, “As we become empowered by our own personal process of healing, our hearts are rendered open, revealing astonishing insights hidden within.” I think one of the key words in that statement is “rendered.” When we practice yoga – asana or otherwise – we progress along a path of spiritual healing; whatever that may look like for each of us is going to be different. It is in the practice and in the surrender to Self where our hearts are opened. We don’t have to DO anything. We simply trust and allow. (Simply!!!)

So, although I may be accused of splitting hairs, I believe that our language is important; what we ask our students to do bears examining. I think we all want to encourage our students to open their hearts in whatever way is safe for them. And I believe the most useful way is to soften and allow, not to push or force. The heart will be rendered open as a result of the practice. We don’t need to push anything anywhere. Do less; feel more. ☺

where do we go from here?

The greater Sacramento yoga community has lost a dear teacher.  She took her life on Easter, after teaching 2 classes that morning.  She went home and shot herself.  We'll never know what happened or why.  None of us saw it coming --it blindsided all of us.

She was attending one of my teacher trainings, and interestingly, at the beginning of the training, she pulled me aside and said that she was glad this wasn't a training where everyone would have to share their "shit" so-to-speak.  She said that she didn't have any issues and wasn't really interested in hearing other people's.  I explained to her that in a year-long training, it comes up, but not usually until month 5 or 6 --which seems when everyone really starts to look inside and hold up the mirror.  We're at month 6.  I think maybe she might have had something to share.

As I said, no one saw it coming.  We'll never know the depth of her suffering, as she never shared it.  I think that we all failed.  We failed as a community.  We failed to create a place for her where she could be real.  She was a bright light; always bubbly, and her classes were fun and inspiring to her students.  No one saw her shadow side. 

Here's the thing:  yoga doesn't cure anything.  It's a tool in a toolbox, but if you were to listen to some people, it will make you beautiful, healthy, and happy.  It's all about bliss and peace and love.  Well --it's not.  Or at least not only about that.  The lotus flower grows in the muck and mud, through the water, reaching for the sun.  In the larger yoga world of the West, we've created what Patty Townsend calls "spiritual mood-making".  We're exhorted to drop our fear, step into our power, let our lights shine, step into grace....  From a popular yoga book's introduction:  "sculpt your ideal body.. .free your true self... transform your life... your body will transform, you will change your destructive patterns permanently at a cellular level, your life will be infused with life and equanimity, and your relationships will be truer, deeper, and more fulfilling."  The author argues that in his two-week trainings he's witnessed people's transformations --"by the time they leave, they're no longer carrying their emotional baggage"...  and while this may be true for some people, it's certainly not true for everyone.

The problem lies here:  Yoga is not something that gives quick results.  It's a lifelong STUDY. Sure --you may feel better after your first yoga class; and you may in fact get stronger and healthier; however, I  believe that the real work of yoga comes much later.  After the honeymoon, when the stuck patterns that have haunted us for our entire lives reassert themselves, we're left with either "I've failed" or "yoga has failed".  More likely, we'll see it as something we're doing wrong. 

The larger yoga community has created the 'seat of the teacher'.  We've got rock-star yoga teachers wearing microphones who teach to crowds of hundreds of people.  We have people who after 5 months of practice attend an intensive 2-week training, and presto --they come out a yoga teacher.  All of a sudden, they're thrust onto a stage where they're to guide people through a practice, bringing all of the gifts yoga has to offer.  Really?  I'm not saying they have nothing to offer --far from it --they have fresh eyes and lots of enthusiasm.  But again, what happens when they butt up against a toxic old pattern?  Self-blame usually.  And guilt and shame.  "Why isn't it working?  What's wrong with me? "  What once brought nothing but bliss now fails.  Here's the thing:  Yoga doesn't cure anything.  Yup.  Nothing.  Yes, if you practice, chances are you'll see some very positive changes in your life.  But it's just a tool in a toolbox.  The person who you were up until this point is still there.  There is no magical transformation for anyone.  It's about hard work and looking in the mirror --over, and over, and over.  It's about using the tools we learn on the mat (placing ourselves in somewhat uncomfortable positions and holding them --sitting with discomfort) and learning to apply them to our lives.  While I'm sure that some people never look back --they drop their old patterns and move on; I don't believe that's most people's experience.  For most of us, the practice is about showing up.

Regardless of whether we come to yoga to cure some spiritual malaise or with stiff hamstrings (or both!), when we hold up the mirror, we may not like what we see.  Our job is not to make those things go away.  Our job is to sit with them and not react.  So, the rock-star yogis who claim to have the answers to life's problems, and who claim that yoga will cure you of all of your ills, have helped to reinforce a culture of shame, guilt, and lies.  We have a culture of competition (yoga in the Olympics?  Who "wins" --the person who sits on his cushion and meditates for hours or the person who can stand up with their leg behind their head?) that is being reinforced in our yoga studios and trainings, regardless of the lip service paid to "being real".  When was the last time you walked into your yoga studio and asked your teacher how he/she was, and they responded with, "pretty shitty"?  Actually --some teachers do cop to it, but more likely we answer, "great" or "fine".  I've done it.  Repeatedly.  What we do when we do that, is put out an image.  We have created a place where yoga teachers are put on a pedestal, revered for their beautiful asana practices, and expected to be "on" 24/7.  I had one student who saw me outside of class at a restaurant having a glass of wine, exclaim, "wow, I didn't figure you'd drink wine!  I didn't think yoga teachers did that kind of thing".  We're supposed to be vegetarian, have clear skin because our diets are so clean; and never get depressed --basically, be more than human.  And I think that it's our fault.  We've cultivated it and embraced it --we want to be that teacher that has 50+ people in their classes.  We like the pedestal.  We like the status that comes with the job.  It's time to let it go.  It's no longer serving us, if it ever did.  We need to create a space where yoga teachers can be real, without shame or guilt that they're not enough.  We need to do it for ourselves, and most certainly for our students.  We need to teach them that yoga is not about exercise, or becoming perfect --or even becoming the best we can be.  It's about looking in the mirror and seeing what you see, and if it's something you can change easily --great.  If not --well, we sit with it and try not to react.

Patanjali argues in Sutra 2.17: " the cause of suffering is the mis-identification of the Seer with the seen."  or, in other words, our suffering is caused by our confusing what the ego-mind perceives as all there is.  The job of the ego is to assert its individuality.  There's nothing wrong with that, but we need to put it in perspective --we don't want the ego-mind driving the car all the time.  So ---we practice. He also argues that further suffering can be avoided (2.16).  This suffering due to the misidentification of consciousness (purusha) with (prakriti) material existence, is necessary!  ( 2.23) In order to realize the true nature of the self (which for him is consciousness) we have to go through the process.  We have to experience the suffering to realize the true nature of the Self.  We use abyasa (practice) and viveka (discriminative mind) to cut through the illusion of separation from Self that the ego-mind creates.

What this means for us, is that in our rush to enlightenment, or peace, or whatever it is that we think yoga will give us, we're bypassing the experience.  We're actually short-changing ourselves and our students.  By not copping to our own struggles, we're telling our students that they should aspire to not be human.  The work is not to shed the old self  --it's to integrate it.  And to integrate it means that you can't just get rid of it.  Again, the lotus flower doesn't try to get rid of the mud from which it came --it simply reaches for the sun.  If its roots were pulled out of the mud, it would die.  I'm not saying that we need to unload all our troubles onto our students.  Not at all --save that for your therapist.  But we do need to let them know that this practice is not all about puppies and rainbows and peace signs and feeling good.  We need them to know that feeling bad is part of the process --an important part actually --and it's part of being human.  Our yoga practice may give us some tools to help navigate the muddy water, but, ultimately, we need to be able to see ourselves clearly and accept what we see without trying to run away from it, or distract ourselves with something else that makes us feel better.  I'm not saying don't get on your mat or your cushion when you're feeling low --DO --it usually helps!  But if it doesn't, well, then it doesn't, and then there you are.  And we need to be okay with where we are.  We may not like it, but we want to be able to see that and not react to it.

I have experienced the shame and guilt that comes up when the practice doesn't work the way I want it to.  I've suffered with depression most of my life.  It's part of what brought me to yoga, and certainly why I stayed.  I've desperately tried every alternative treatment --and they all help some, but on occasion, I've found myself at the end of a rope where I feel alone and desperate, and I've hurt myself on numerous occasions.  I've sliced my wrists in a rage, I've beat myself up with my asana practice, or running, or whatever, I've overdosed and ended up in the ER.  All while being a yoga teacher.  I shared it with no one, until I finally told my teacher, when I thought I really had no business getting up in front of a room and teaching this stuff, given that I so do not have a handle on my shit.  What she told me made me pause.  She told me it makes me real, and a better teacher for it.  For years I resisted taking medication for depression, because I was so locked into the idea that I should be able to get past it myself.  Yoga should work.  Diet should work. Exercise should work.  But sometimes, despite all my heroic efforts, they don't.  And I lose it.  I dissociate and watch myself like I'm someone else, doing some pretty outrageous shit.  After my last episode, where I ended up in the ER (on my son's birthday no less), I started to take this disease seriously, and I take the meds --and I do all the rest of it too. The meds don't work alone.  I go to therapy, I do my practices, I take care of myself.  The meds allow the other things that I do to work.  They give me space to negotiate the old patterns.  I'll say that once I'm hip to a pattern, I'm usually able to step back the next time and not react.  But I can always find a new way to go sideways...  and I'm done fucking around.  I'm accepting my reality.  And if I hear one more yoga teacher say we need less medication and more meditation, I might explode.  Or cry.

I don't know whether our friend and colleague suffered from depression or not.  I have to think that maybe she did.  She didn't let on.  She didn't tell her best friend.  She didn't tell her teacher training community.  She didn't tell anyone.  I have to think that we didn't create a safe place for her to be real; to cop to "un-yogic" thoughts or actions.  In the competition to be the best teacher, have the most fun classes, offer the most awesome sequences, we've boxed ourselves into a lie.  We put our best faces forward --and not just in the classroom, but on facebook and other social media outlets.  We are bombarded by people with exciting lives, doing fun things, with amazing families who love them.  No one posts anything when they're not on the top of their game --well, maybe a couple of people do, but largely, it's a world where we're never enough. We're bombarded with posts to think positively, create our own happiness and reality.  Not that there's anything wrong with that, but if you're low, and maybe have been for a while, you tend to think that you're doing something wrong, because everyone else seems to have it all wrapped up. We're constantly comparing ourselves to others --on the mat and off the mat.  We do it --we're human.  And we usually find that we come up short.  We need to let our students know that we're just like them.  We're not super-human.  We struggle, we suffer --it's probably partly why we teach!  And sometimes yoga doesn't work.  Or at least we think it's not working, because we're not seeing the results we want to see.  I'd argue that it is working, and has been all along.  The fullness of the practice includes the darkness.  We are darkness and light in equal measure.  Sometimes the light wins, and sometimes the dark.  It's part of being human.  We need to know --really know --that it's okay.  It's okay to have bad days, it's okay to feel like a failure. We don't need to feel ashamed about it, and we really don't need to run away from it.  We can sit in that place of discomfort with what is without reacting to it.  But if all we focus on is the light, we do a disservice to ourselves and our students.  We have to allow ourselves the space to experience our shadow sides, so that they don't get bigger than they really are.

I know what I've said is going to piss some people off.  Oh well --it certainly won't be the first time!  But I feel strongly that this stuff needs to be talked about and dealt with.  Yoga is bigger than we're allowing it to be.  It's a system of self-study that never ends.  It's a vehicle for the work --it's not the work itself.  And sometimes what we see is pretty, but sometimes it's not.  And actually --that is okay.

So, my friend and colleague ---I hope you find your peace.  We'll miss you and your smile, and I for one wish I had known the full you.  We'll go on --we have to.  You will be missed.  I hope we as a community can take something away from this tragic event.  I hope we can embrace being real.

Deep Front Line Image

The Deep Front Line

Thought a visual might help for the previous article!

chaturanga dandasana revisited...

Chaturanga Dandasana:  the missing links

I've been (surprise, surprise) thinking about chaturanga dandasana of late.  I've noticed that in practice, chaturanga can be an easeful fully-embodied posture, but it can also be a source of frustration when it's not.  There are so many things that need to happen in chaturanga dandasana that it bears looking at (again!).  

I'm going to suggest that there are a couple of structures we can access that fall under the category of Tom Myer's Deep Front Line --a myofascial meridian that links muscles and other structures together to provide the spine , and arguably the entire body,with support.  The DFL plays a part in lifting the inner arches of the feet, stabilizing the legs, supporting the front of the spine, stabilizing the chest in breathing, while allowing for the expansion and relaxing necessary for a full, easy breath; and balancing the neck and head on top of all of it!  

As we know, nothing in the body operates in isolation.  One way of looking at how the body is organized is through the lens of the fascia and its attendant structures.  We know that the fascial web is one continuous structure throughout the entire body.  It surrounds and pervades every organ, vessel, and muscle.  The meninges surrounding the spinal cord and brain are fascia.  Literally every structure in the body is invested with or surrounded by fascia.  The human body can be described as a biotensegrity structure.  Biotensegrity refers to biological "structures that maintain their integrity due primarily to a balance of woven tensile forces continual through the structure as opposed to leaning on continuous compressive forces like a stone wall." (Tom Myers, Anatomy Trains, 2nd edition p.45) So, we no longer really look at the skeleton as bones stacked upon one another, in a compressive structure, with muscles that lever them through space, but as a structure where the compressive forces and tensile structures balance one another.  The compressive structures (here, the bones) are afloat in a sea of fibrous connective tissue that lend the body lightness as well as stability.  In this concept, the bones are seen as spacers pushing out into the soft tissue, the tone of which determines the balance of the structure.  The fascial continuity model would imply that the myo-fascia (or the fascia of the muscles) acts as a tensegrity structure around the skeleton, where a continuous inward-pulling tensional network supports the bones within the connective tissue, and the bones act as struts, rather than compressive structures that are stacked upon one another.

So --the Deep Front Lin (DFL) is a huge player in supporting the body, especially from the "core".  The DFL goes from the sole of the foot --the attachment of tibialis posterior and the long toe flexors, up through the popliteal space behind the knee, through all of the adductors, through the ilio-psoas complex, pectineus, and including the fascia of the pelvic floor (important for the bandhas) and then divides into three tracks, which function as one.  The deepest track follows the anterior longitudinal ligament (ALL) up the front of the spine through longus coli and longus captis to attach on basilar portion of the occiput.  The middle track includes the breathing diaphragm and its stem (which we know when embodied goes all the way to the tip of the coccyx tail); the pericardium, the mediastinum, the parietal pleura of the lungs, continues up through the scalenes, the pharyngeal raphe to attach on to the cervical transverse processes and the basilar portion of the occiput.  The anterior track also follows the breathing diaphragm and its stem, up towards its bony attachment at the xypohoid process, behind the sternum (the endothoracic fascia) through the infrahyoid muscles and the suprahyoid muscles via the hyoid bone to attach on the mandible. 

The DFAL is a continuation of the DFL to the arms --it consists of the thenar muscles, from the lateral side of the thumb, through the inner arm, via the radial ligaments, the radial periosteum, the biceps brachii, to the pec minor and clavipectoral fascia, to attach onto the anterior surface of ribs 3, 4, and 5. In Embodyoga®, we would take that all the way to the tail, even though in terms of the meridian itself (which is determined largely by lines of force) it doesn't follow that track all the way down to the tail.  Besides, hands-to-tail and feet-to-head in practice go through the pancreas, which is also a huge support, but not a myofascial one.

Let's look at a couple of the myofascial structures that I think will be helpful in learning and doing chaturanga dandasana.  The ilio-psoas complex acts as the bridge between the upper and lower bodies.  Now we know that chaturanga dandasana requires that the entire body be involved.  The more supports you can layer on, the more easeful the pose will be.  But for now, let's focus on the myofascial supports.  I see a lot of students in chaturanga pulling themselves forward into the posture... which isn't surprising, since that's largely how it's been taught.  (ie. yoga journal, etc).  What I have found is that if we use yield and push, and take it all the way through the entire body --from hands-to-tail and from feet-to-head, and come into chaturanga by pushing down and away, not dragging yourself forward, then you hit the myofascial sling of support, and there is no collapse in the pose.  I'm not arguing that this is easy to do at first, but once the connections are made, this way of entering the pose has many benefits.  For one, there is almost zero compression in the wrists.  You create space by pushing down and away, and when you come forward (yielding your weight into your hands) --maintaining the push down and away as you come forward, you maintain the space created in the wrists.  Additionally, the the shoulders don't collapse, the butt doesn't tip up, and you have all your supports in play.  You don't want a big arc in the lumbar spine in chaturanga.  In order to maintain axial extension in the spine, we'll look to the DFL for the myofascial supports.

There are a couple of what I think may be small but important missing links along the myofascial meridian of the DFL.  The first one (going from feet-to-head) --you could just as easily look at it from head-to-feet-- is the psoas minor.  The psoas minor runs along the anterior surface of the psoas major, and attaches from the front of the pelvis (the iliopectineal eminence), to the bodies and discs of T11-12, and acts to flex the lumbar spine and posteriorly tilt the pelvis. Although it only expresses as muscle in about 51% of the population, it expresses as a fascial band in 100% of the population.  So --many people may not have a lot of control over the psoas minor, but I think when we start to embody it, and see how it works, we can develop the muscle portion, similarly to the way the stem of the breathing diaphragm develops with full use.  The core work below will aid in that discovery and development. The psoas minor acts to slightly flex the lumbar spine, and aids in posteriorly tilting the pelvis.  This is important in chaturanga dandasana.  The psoas major, as i stated before, acts as a bridge between the upper and lower bodies --it blends in with the stem of the breathing diaphragm to continue up the deep track of the DFL.  When we can fully access psoas major and minor, along with the other supports of the DFL, chaturanga becomes a different experience.

The other structure that is very important in chaturanga dandasana is the hyoid bone.  The hyoid bone (one of the bony "stations" of the DFL) attaches onto the tongue, and the hyoid muscles, some of which attach to the posterior surface of the sternum, and to the upper border of the scapula.  When we place the tongue lightly on the hard palate of the mouth and keep it there, it keeps the hyoid bone snugged up and back --drawing the sternum up ever so slightly, and securing the shoulder blades on the back, both important supports in chaturanga.  It also helps to keep the jaw soft and the breath even --and is also called jiva bandha!

So --to execute the pose --start in plank pose, with your shoulders slightly behind your wrists --yield and push down and away, drawing the pit of the belly in.  Keeping the tongue on the hard palate (anywhere --it doesn't matter where --and lightly perch it there) see if you can activate psoas minor and psoas major.  (You'll feel a slight "hooking" of the sitbones towards the fronts of the feet.)  It's not a big tuck of the pelvis --and the tail remains rooted towards the heels (pit of belly still drawn in).  Keeping all of that, slowly start to lower forward and down by pushing down and away.  As you lower down, spinning the elbows in towards your ribs, don't let go of the psoas minor (even if you don't have it expressed as muscle, it can act as the support --you can do the action itself using the iliacus/psoas major).  Of course, you also need to maintain the feet-to-head connections provided by the entire DFL --but just pay extra attention to the psoas minor and the hyoid if you tend to collapse in chaturanga.  

When done in a fully-embodied manner, you can hold chaturanga dandasana for several breaths easily.  If you cannot ---return to core work and stay aware of what happens along the front of the neck.  If the chin dips forward, you've lost the longus coli/captis and hyoid support.  In order for chaturanga dandasana to be easeful, you need to maintain the connections all the way from the soles of the feet up to the head.  The DFL provides us with the material to do that.

Here are a couple of core exercises that can help you find your psoas --both of them!

Lie on your back with your legs slightly more than 90 degrees away from your torso. (The psoas only fires up to 90 degrees, if your legs are closer to your torso than that, you're in your superficial abdominals) Place your hips about 6 inches from the wall, and rest your legs on the wall, heels touching, legs straight.  Feel for the natural arc of the lumbar spine here.  Placing your hands behind your head (just for support) a block between your thighs, inhale your breath (tongue on the hard palate) squeeze your block and press your low back into the earth (not lifting the pelvis off the floor --it's a very small movement) by curling  your tailbone towards the ceiling.  Your pelvis stays on the earth.  You're just pushing the low spine towards the floor.  Your feet will move very slightly towards the ceiling. Retain your breath. Exhale and curl your chin in towards your chest, gaze down at your belly. Elbows towards knees. Retain your breath.  Then inhale and release your head and arms, keep pressing the low back into the earth, curling your tail up towards the ceiling, and then exhale and release your tail. The natural arc returns to the lumbar spine.  Repeat this 5 times.  When you feel like you've found the action in the psoas, take your legs away from the wall and do it again, this time reaching your feet up and away from your face instead of up the wall.

Then do the same thing with your legs bent, so that your shins are parallel to the floor, and your thighs at slightly greater than 90 degrees from your torso. Again, do this at the wall to isolate the action.  Place your heels on the wall, shins parallel to the floor;  hands behind the head for support (don't push your head forward, use your front neck muscles to curl the chin towards the chest).  Squeeze the block, inhale and curl the tail (low back presses down), kicking your heels into the wall. Retain your breath, then exhale, curl chin to chest, elbows towards knees; retain your breath, then inhale and release your head (tail still curling up --low back on the earth, heels still pressing into the wall) then exhale and release your tail.  The natural curve returns to the lumbar spine.  You can then take this one away from the wall as well --which will be a little bit more challenging.  Repeat 5 times.

So --to recap --in chaturanga dandasana --start with yield and push, maintain axial extension (neutral curves with bandha)  access the supports of psoas major, minor, and the hyoid bone and its attaching structures.  In short --find the entire Deep Front Line --and as Patty Townsend would say, "have a party!"  Have fun, and let me know how it goes!!