Monday, December 06, 2010

empty cup

In the Hatha Yoga Pradipika it says, Uddiyana bandha is called the rising or flying bandha because through its practice, the great bird (shakti) flies upward with ease (III.56), and Pulling the abdomen back in and making the navel rise is uddiyana bandha. It is the lion which conquers the elephant, death (III.57). Of the three major bandhas (the others being jalandhara bandha and moola bandha), it's the one that often feels the most accessible. The inward lift of the belly seems to focus the fiery strength of the agni, and unleashes a usually untapped storehouse of power. Because it can only be practiced on the exhale it also seems to create space – space to be still, space to feel uncertain, space to embrace emptiness.

This controlled emptiness is called bahya kumbhaka. As BKS Iyengar writes in Light on Pranayama, Bahya kumbhaka is the state in which the yogi surrenders his very self, in the form of his breath, to the Lord and merges with the Universal Breath. It is the noblest form of surrender, as the yogi's identity is totally merged with the Lord.

Sunday, December 05, 2010

laughter spoken here

Recently a student told me she appreciates that she can laugh in my classes. And another said that she liked that she gets to feel very "natural" with me. There are days when I struggle, still feeling like the new guy in town. In those moments I remind myself to show up, shut up, and SERVE so that I can hold the kind of space where yoga can become the vehicle for this laughter and naturalness. Some days it is so hard and I wish that was easier. Then I remember that evolution and change are never easy. On the other side of this struggle is the still point. The only way to get there is to go through the rough places – the trenches of doubt, ego, and attachment. I'd rather get there bloodied and beaten than not get there at all.

Saturday, December 04, 2010

the sweet satisfaction of surya namaskara

In the wee hours of the morning, I often pray for the day to delay its start. I light the candles and unroll my mat before the alter. After a little time on the floor, after my breath has begun to really breathe, after a few adho mukha svanasanas and an extended uttanasana, I stand and embark on Surya Namaskar. When I start, it often feels like these salutations to the still-sleeping-sun are the beginning of my practice. But as the repetitions increase, they become my practice. That's when I start to wish that there were more hours in the day.

Surya Namaskar is pretty perfect. It's a complete practice that fully incorporates pranayama, asana, mantra and devotion. With each bow and lunge my breath gets fuller and more expansive, and these asanas begin to free my body and mind from their dark slumber.

With this familiar set of movements as the beginning of my day, my entire practice becomes exactly what I need every time. What a terrific gift.