Getting Out of My Own Way (and thigh loop)

A couple of years ago, I took a brilliant class with Desiree Rumbaugh in which she used the theme of “getting out of our own way” to lead us to a place to better integrate our shoulders.  As I was practicing with the Anusara principle of “thigh loop” this week, I was reminded of that class.  We’ve all been in the situation where our habitual mindset, physical posture, life style, or emotions get in the way of our finding more freedom and happiness.

When our thigh bones move into the front plane of the body, the forward movement keeps us from opening our hips more fully and from getting into deeper and stronger poses that require our hips to be open (in fact, out of the way).  When we take our thigh bones back, we physically have more freedom, more range of motion and are better able to access the deepest places of power and openness that allow us to soar on the mat.  I’m working on it on the mat as a great reminder to get out of my own way off the mat.

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  • How Injuries Can Help Us Open to Grace

    Earlier this week one of my long-time students emailed me before class to say that even though she had strained a muscle in her mid-back, she still intended to come to practice because she hoped it would make her feel better.  “It even hurts when I laugh,” she added.  I emailed her back saying that I would offer alignment instructions to help with her back, but I could not promise that we would not laugh (which, of course, she reported made her laugh).  In fact, it was a class filled with much laughter, but applying the principles of alignment served to alleviate the pain the student had been experiencing.

    Towards the end of the class, as we were getting ready to move into a seated forward bend, I asked my student what alignment principles she should apply to take care of her back in the pose.  Demonstrating as she spoke, she said that she should spread her toes to activate “shins in;” take her inner thighs in, back, and apart to inner spiral her legs in order to widen her pelvic floor and enable curve in the lumbar spine, releasing some of the strain on her back; and then work outer spiral to engage and protect her back.   “Perfect,” I said, “but what should you do before those actions?”

    Another student jumped in, “open to grace.”  Quite right, but how, I asked, would you apply “opening to grace” as a physical principle in this instance?  That seemed a little like a trick question, so I explained how I use the action of “opening to grace” when I am working with an injury (obviously this applies all the time, but it especially applies both when working with an injury and when moving towards a more advanced pose than you have previously practiced.)

    Opening to grace here means being patiently and exquisitely sensitive, moving slowly and mindfully enough to be able to tell from the beginning and throughout the entire cycle of entering into, reaching pinnacle (whatever that may be under the circumstances), and getting out of the pose whether the movements are serving to heal and expand before causing more pain and injury.  Does any movement into the pose at all aggravate the injury?  Does applying the principles gently make it better?  Does applying them with fierce intensity help more?  If we start with the strongest, we will have already gone past the place where we discover that resting or just a gentle attempt would have been healing or expanding, but any more would be aggravating.  When we start with the gentle and sensitive and then move in deeper and stronger without losing the perfect sensitivity that is when true change can occur.

    It never feels good to be injured, but because of the immediate motivation to get out of pain, injuries can be great teachers of just how much practicing with true sensitivity and awareness can enable us to expand heart and mind instead of just moving towards wilder poses for the sake of some idea that we are better yogis if we can do more poses.

     

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    Waking Up in the Dark (a Hint of Autumn)

    This week I have really noticed the light changing.  When I start my morning meditation, the day is just dawning, not full daylight.  The cat is not waking me up an hour before the electronic wake-up call, but is rather showing up just before it goes off (he is acting in sync with my routine rather than with the birds’).   Even though the days are still hot, there are hints of autumn in the smell of the leaves and certain breezes.  The first of the late summer fruits and vegetables are starting to come.

    Are you noticing the subtle shifts?  Has it changed what you want to practice and how you are feeling when you practice?

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    Observing Another Storm Pass without Raining (and a moment of truth)

    The third front in a row.  It is starting to be a long while not to rain in the summer.  It is a tough gardening year:  extreme drought conditions all winter, overly cool and wet spring, now no rain again.

    Watching how the erratic weather patterns are impacting my garden, I am reminded that I am not a purist about gardening or food or my impact on the earth.   As much as I enjoy tending my garden and eating its fruits, there is no hesitation in my mind that if my garden does not produce, I will buy more food at the farmers’ market.  If the pickings are slim at the farmers’ market because of local conditions, I am in no doubt that I will buy food from whatever source, even if I try to make sure it is first local, then humanely picked, then organic.

    When I write about gardening and eating and yoga, I am sharing what I enjoy, what makes me feel healthy.  I do not think of myself as trying to set an example.  In some senses, my yoga practice is similarly about what works for me personally and no more.  The yoga teachings are fairly clear that the design and purpose of aligning with the subtle energies, including living in a more peaceful, less destructive way, is for the enlightenment of the individual practitioner and not for “making the world a better place.”  If by seeking to live in a healthier, more aligned, more peaceful and compassionate way ourselves also brings more global benefits, that is a bonus.

    Looking at our lives from this perspective could cause discouragement.  I hear this question all the time:  “why should I change what I am doing [consuming/eating/driving]?  My behavior is not going to change the world when there are all of those billions not changing.”  In some senses, looking at shifting our behavior from a completely selfish perspective makes it more accessible and meaningful.  If we see our choices having the possibility of making ourselves healthier, happier, and more at peace with ourselves and the world around us, why would we not want to try to live more consciously?

  • How I Injured My Wrist (a Reminder)

    About a month ago, I strained the top of my hand near my wrist as I was moving from uttanasana–standing forward fold to adho mukha svanasana–downward facing dog. I was certain that I had placed my hand properly. I always place fingerpads down first and then ground my metacarpals, with the emphasis on the index finger metacarpal. My fingers were evenly spaced. It felt like perhaps I had jammed the bones or slightly dislocated them–the wrist/hand version of a sacrum “going out.”

    My initial reaction was to work harder, but it was not feeling any better. I resorted to resting for a few days and then concentrating on forearm balance instead of handstand.

    When I was at the weekend workshop in New Jersey last month, one of my friends suggested that I was working too hard. That was definitely on the right track. Once my hand was in place, though, what felt best was to work very strongly. During the first intermediate/advanced workshop, I was fortunate enough to be able to spend a few minutes with John Friend, who gave me an adjustment that rearranged the bones. This cleared most of the pain, but my hand was still extra sensitive.

    I found myself placing leaving my hands soft and placing them with great delicacy. Before going into weight-bearing I added the actions of clawing the fingerpads and drawing the thumb and index finger together, while making sure my metacarpals were firmly rooted. No pain.

    I went through this sequence of events with my Wednesday night group practice students yesterday. I showed them the difference between engaging strongly as the starting point of the hand alignment and sweetly touching, immediately followed by full engagement.

    “What principle of alignment had I been leaving out?” I asked. Without hesitation, they chorused in unison, “opening to grace.” Exactly right. Sometimes practicing the Anusara principle of “opening to grace” is subtle, but it always comes first and, in my experience over the past decade of study and practice, is always essential to have the most life-expanding and holistic of practices.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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    Tatah Dvandavah Anabhighatah (and “winners and losers”)

    Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra II.48, tatah dvandaha anabhighataha is translated by B.K.S. Iyengar as “from then on [after the yogi through steady practice has absorbed him/herself in the practice of yoga), the sadhaka (practitioner) is undisturbed by dualities.”  This sutra follows the only two in all of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras that specifically discuss asana, which Patanjali describes as a controlled and perfect ease and steadiness of mind and body.

    I was thinking about the freedom from the “pairs of opposites” — pleasure and pain, etc. — when I read an article in the Washington Post yesterday dividing everyone who was impacted by the blizzard as a winner or a loser.   Children off from school were winners, frustrated parents, travelers who were grounded from flying, and politicians sure to be blamed for not having planned in a Southern city to have the snow removal equipment, personnel, and budget of a city like Buffalo, NY, were losers.  I am fairly certain (based on the harangues on the blogs) that the author was not alone in seeing everything as winning or losing.  To me, though, it feels like one of the “afflictions” described by Patanjali.  I was a grounded flyer.  I was much looking forward to a trip to San Francisco to see a dear friend from college and then to attend the weekend workshop with John Friend.  It would have been great fun to be there.  I was disappointed.  But it never would have occurred to me to label myself a loser.  Do so so would just had me hold onto unhappiness.

    Yoga teaches us to look for the good, to accept what we cannot change, and to seek to respond in the highest.  In essence, we are changing what we can change, which is how we react.  If my only reaction to the storm was pain and sadness from having the pleasure of my planned trip taken away from me, then I would in fact be a loser.  If I just accept that no one can anticipate when record-breaking winter storms are going to arrive and then have the best day I can under the unavoidable circumstances, then I am a winner.  I am not a winner in a game where someone else is a loser.  I am not a winner in that I did not let Mother Nature win.  Rather, I have learned that the steady practice of yoga makes life more easeful and delightful even in challenges and disappointments.  I am motivated to practice more.  The lessons learned from being confined a blizzard when I was warm, well fed, and surrounded by friends are a hopeful prelude for how the yoga will serve when I really face a challenge.

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