Archive for July, 2008

sadness

The breeder contacted The Cop. Mia, mother of the puppies, developed an infection and high fever and died suddenly yesterday.

We were going to go see her and the pups today. I was psyched to see the puppies, but really looking forward to seeing her again. She was absolutely the most beguiling dog I ever met — utterly gentle and loving and dear. The pups were weaned recently, so they will be okay, but it makes me so sad to think of them losing their mother like this.

 

Back at it

Back to practice after the workshop, a Moon Day and a Saturday. On the one hand, probably good to get some rest — on the other, it’s always easier just to keep bending away, day after day.

Mental resistance this morning. Why? I think because I figured practice just wouldn’t be as good as the last one I had in MN. The mind is funny, no? Wants more of the good things, always. And looks for ways to avoid any disappointment. Usually by creating distractions.

That’s the beauty of traditional practice: the same thing, day after day. So you can’t pretend the day-to-day changes don’t happen, so you have to face good practices and bad practices. So you can see, in the end, that if you do the same thing every single day for years, you will transform your practice and your self.

But it can’t be measured on a straight line. It’s cumulative, yes, but not in a perfectly linear fashion.

I was fighting this and clinging to the past.

***

Remembered, as I exited utkatasana, that Matthew said NOT to do bakasana (and no eka pada bakasana after virabhadrasana). I ditched these moves a good while ago, figuring I had better things to worry about. But I am reminded, again, that his main concern was the smoothness of the flow of practice, the count and the breath.

***

The kapotasana exercise. (And a disclaimer, of course: Is this what MS would tell you YOU need to be doing right now for your practice? I have no idea. One thing that came through loud and clear over the past week is that a good teacher really does see the individual practice, and responds accordingly. There is no generic bag of tricks that applies to everyone. YMMV.)

First off, Matthew told me that it is more important that I do this exercise than that I just carry on grabbing at my toes. The exercise will help me understand the coordination of standing up and dropping back, which is, as he pointed out, what I really need to be working on right now. The strength/coordination of the bend and return are the issue at hand.

Okay, so set up for kapotasana. Then go back, hands in prayer, arching back, back, back. Slowly. With control. Then, hands touch down (NOT head). Walk hands in. Now push push PUSH through the hands until you launch your hips over your legs and come up. Arms swing out (not up) as you rise.

This is about coordinating and articulating the hip flexors and the spine. As is the next exercise, which comes after urdhva dhanurasana: Wall dropbacks.

Bend back, legs straight for as long as possible. Then a little bend in the legs as the arms (in prayer postion) extend out over the head. Hang… hang… hang… extending the arms. Then lightly touch fingertips to wall. Spring a bit in the arms to get a little momentum, then stand, again (like in the previous exercise) sweeping the arms out and around to the front.

Work to slow each aspect of this exercise down. And work to reduce the amount of momentum. You’re going for long extension time before touching wall, super light landing, least amount of momentum for return, and ideally a stand-up followed by a pause before the arms come forward.

Basically, these exercises mean you spend a lot of time bent backwards and hovering, with gravity doing its work to teach your spine and hips about bending and balance (versus pushing up off the floor).

 

Matthew Sweeney Workshop: Use Responsibly

This morning, I miss the Mysore room in Minnesota. Though, really, the Mysore room could have been physically located *anywhere* — there’s just something magical about the early morning dimness, the flickering candles, people coming in looking sleepy and rumpled, the quiet.

I enjoyed the weekend sessions, and I (kind of) enjoyed the afternoon adjustment workshop sessions, but in the end, what I really miss are the Mysore mornings.

Yoga House has a very pretty practice space — orange walls with intricate gold leaf designs near the ceiling, a beautiful Ganesha shrine, tea light sconces on the walls.

The summer air in Minnesota is heavy and humid, the birds noisy as you walk up the stairs to the shala. Inside, the smell of incense and the flickering light.

What it is about a Mysore space? People wander in and set off on their practices. The breathing gets loud at first, then people find their grooves and it settles down, gets lighter, just flows. No background music, which I prefer (though, in one session, someone asked about music when they practice at home and Matthew just shrugged and said, “Sure, if you want music, have music”).

***

Okay, I’m gonna go to my notes. I had my iPhone with me and would occasionally grab it and type in some text. Felt slightly self-conscious, wondering if people were horrified: “Check out the rude chick who’s text messaging during a workshop!”

Friday night

Chandra krama. I have the poster, and I’ve played around with it, but it was terrific to have Matthew talk us through each vinyasa. What a lovely sequence. Very lower back and hip focused. Lots of rolling around on the floor, which I love. I wish he’d make an audio of this sequence, because it’s so much easier to practice via voice commands…

Matthew has very even energy, which is astonishing, really, given his travel schedule. I am a crappy traveler and get all crazed when I go to new places, but he is sailing along with no apparent highs or lows of energy, no over- or under-enthusiasm levels. And, delightfully, no “I’m a star” vibe at all.

Discussion includes an interesting dichotomy re: 1) sequences he suggests as alternatives/therapeutic practices (e.g., chandra krama and sequences in the new book), and 2) a spiel that promotes really settling down and consistently doing the practice as it is prescribed, for *years*, before you try any alternative asana options.

He’s definitely a “you have to learn the rules before you break the rules” kind of guy. The catch with this, of course, is that people who want an excuse to skip over the rules generally feel they have in fact learned the rules. It’s a slippery argument (learn the rules before you break ‘em) that comes with a built-in rationalization system all ripe for misuse, particularly if someone goes looking for right and wrong and black and white.

It is well worth noting that Matthew answered all “either/or” questions with “yes” and a laugh.

After the evening session, I drive back to the hotel in a downpour so intense that I can’t even see the road. In the bar of the hotel, televisions are broadcasting about all the tornadoes that are being spotted in the area. There are maps with tornado icons all over the place. Luckily I have no idea at all where I am on any of the maps.

***

Saturday

AM: Led primary

Normal led primary.

Post-practice discussion turned to how he assesses readiness for intermediate practice. Number one, far and away, is correct vinyasa/breath. He also watches for frustration level and indications of exhaustion.

The core poses that need to be in good shape before moving on are familiar to us all: marichyasana D, supta kurmasana, baddha konasana. For some reason I can’t quite fathom, he also sees bhujapidasana as important to master (…”master” is the wrong word here — let’s say he’s looking for substantial ease in the pose) before moving into intermediate. He also (and he said this many times) looks at ubbaya padangusthasana, urdhva mukha paschimottanasana, and setu bandhasana (with hands crossed on chest, unless there is a medical contraindication). In these end poses, he looks to see if concentration is still available to the student (i.e., not too much exhaustion) and expects smoothness of breath.

Some discussion about wrist placement (i.e., rotating the hands outward a bit to point forefinger toward front of mat, rather than middle finger). About how it should be explored by each individual to find optimal placement, and do note that placement may change from day to day, etc.

A bit on how primary builds lots of strength in upper back/shoulders. How after a number of years of practice it is common for the practitioner’s upper body strength to be tremendous, core strength strong, and leg strength poor (or, as he said in Australian, “fuck all.”)

Re: moola bandha. If you think you’re doing it, you’re not. It’s not a physical application, but a clearing away of whatever may be blocking it. Don’t stress, but practice and it’ll come.

PM: Jump throughs and backs

I didn’t take notes on the jump throughs and backs. The high level report is this: he breaks down the movements into their component parts and suggests one learn incrementally, adding on as each component is more or less mastered. I believe he may lay out his program in the new book. (Patrick, you got the book, is this true?)

All I can say for sure is that it is similar to how I learned jump backs and throughs, so I just checked what he was saying against what I do, and didn’t pay much more attention than that. (Sorry, Grimmly, I know you were looking for more detail…)

***

Sunday

Wake to an “On the perimeter of a shooting. Miss you” text from The Cop. He’s so romantic.

AM: Led intermediate through LBH

Fun. Happy for a chance to check my breath counts and vinyasas. Definitive answer re: do I go into chaturanga in the vinyasas after salabhasana/bhekasana/dhanurasana/parsva dhanurasana? No. Just into upward dog on pointed toes.

PM: Inversions

Goofed around and enjoyed. I’m a stiff-backed gal who learned inversions from the Anusarans, so they’re happy play time for me. Except for the part where I help other people do inversions. As I mention to Patrick later, this is like trusting someone you don’t know to be your belayer, which is something I never do — hence, I have lived long enough to attend this session.

***

Monday

Mysore practice [give me a moment while I slip into present tense, where all Mysore practice takes place]:

Had insomnia last night, of course. Nerves? I don’t really feel particularly nervous, but maybe so.

It is weird to practice so close to so many people, and weird to practice in humidity. I am accustomed to a desert practice where any moisture is coming from my spray bottle. I am also the only person who brought a spray bottle. (Must find an “I heart AZ” sticker for the spray bottle.)

There are about 20 people in the room. I have, greedily, mixed feelings about this, as the advertisements said Mysore would be limited to 12. I understand, though, that it’d be hard to turn people away, particularly students from the local area.

Matthew watches the room for a good while — no surya/down dog adjustments unless someone is really misaligned. Same with the standing poses. He seems, at least from my perspective (i.e., these are the poses he adjusted for me over the four days, not sure about everyone else…), to focus on the poses most commonly adjusted in primary: padottanasana C, supta kurmasana, baddha konasana.

He also tells me to align my head with my inner shin on janusirsasana A (and all the forward bends, I presume), rather than aligning it directly over the forward leg (because that puts a twist in the neck).

The heat and humidity is kinda getting to me during the beginning of the intermediate poses. (And yes, I am definitely nervous for this portion of my practice.) I think about quitting after bhekasana, after dhanurasana, after parsva dhanurasana, blah, blah. Carry on through laghu vajrasana, then go to closing.

As I am leaving, Matthew asks how far I went in intermediate.

“Laghu vajrasana.”

“Tomorrow we’ll do kapotasana.”

I roll my eyes a bit.

“Your nemesis?”

I just laugh.

Afternoon adjustment session:

Opening portion of this afternoon’s lecture: ethics. Personal ethics of the teacher. Matthew expressed strong feelings against “draping” adjustments or anything that would create too close an intimate space.

Then we adjusted the first half of primary on each other. Does that limited description suggest my discomfort with the whole thing?

***

Tuesday

Mysore:

The morning is all about containing my nerves–I get discombobulated by travel, Matthew Sweeney is due to help me in kapotasana. Seriously, my nerves are pretty jangly when I go into the room. So I really slow down and stick like mad to the breath. And in return, I get a ringside seat to watch MS assess a practice. He is quite methodical–comes by to adjust padottanasana C. Back to adjust supta kurmasana. Comes by and asks me to repeat baddha konasana so he can see. Treats me to a great adjustment for all three parts of the pose (yes, he likes to leave in the sitting upright third part of the pose). He “listens” very carefully during adjustments.

He comes over to tweak pasasana. Asks, “What is this called?” When I respond, he says “Good” and goes on his way. A few minutes later I hear him ask someone else what the name of a pose is. She doesn’t know. He says, “Stop there.”

Adjustment in bhekasana. He circles back later and asks about laghu vajrasana. Yes, I just did it. “May I see it again?”

Then kapotasana. The kapo experience is interesting, and funny. My anticipation was much more dramatic than the actual experience, of course. He’s a fan of starting the pose (at least for beginners) by arching back a bit, coming back up, going a bit deeper, etc., all the way until hands touch the floor. He tells me to walk my hands in, then to put my head on the floor. Each time I walk my hands in, he puts his over mine to stabilize them, then tells me to raise my head again, try to bring it in closer. Then walk hands in again. Etc., etc.

[My mat is slippery when I try to walk my hands in. I immediately flash on the idea of cutting some horizontal grooves into one of my old mats... Later, when I tell Patrick about this, he laughs. Secretly, though, he knows I'm not kidding.]

Matthew takes a few minutes to explain that in my practice I should do urdhva dhanurasana, then add half dropbacks and dropbacks to the wall (which Patrick explains nicely here), getting progressively lower. “This is an intermediate practice. You have to figure out the dropbacks at this point. It’ll come.”

Then, assisted dropbacks.

Nice.

Afternoon adjustment session:

Again, discussion about the careful awareness of teacher and student space. Even a comment about allowing people their privacy. Being an introvert, I find that incredibly admirable. At the end, a little speech about how adjustments are lovely because, like massage, they allow us appropriate and bounded human contact, which is essential to our happiness.

He commented on how sad it is we can’t feel free to touch each other because touch is now viewed almost exclusively within the context of sexuality and/ or violence. Ashtanga offers an opportunity that should be carefully protected and respected.

Then we adjusted the second half of primary on each other. Does the torture never end? ;-)

***

Wednesday and Thursday sessions were similar to Monday and Tuesday. Lovely Mysore practice in the morning, adjustment session in the afternoon. More details won’t make this any more clear. Oh, just one tidbit: he expressed dislike of adjustments done by more than one person. Said it was “too much invasive energy.” Another MS insight that holds deep appeal for this introvert.

Next up, I’ll talk about the two exercises for kapotasana. And then I want to write a bit about MS’s classroom management skills, which are quite interesting.

 

Conflicted

“When will you start writing about the workshop?” The Cop asked within about an hour of my return home.

Why do I find that question so worrisome? I wondered.

This morning, I am slowly unpacking and kind of puttering about aimlessly. I have a cranky right Achilles and sore lower quads — the former from heroic attempts to deepen pasasana, the latter from a little kapotasana exercise I learned.

Coming out of the workshop, I feel like I learned a lot, but in the simplest terms of the exchange relationship, I got my money’s worth because Matthew Sweeney taught me two exercises that will help me learn kapotasana on my own. That, plus an objective look at my personal practice, is what I went to the workshop to accomplish.

***

Okay, so I am still thinking about writing about what I learned.

One thing that was interesting was how often I got asked, “Do you teach?” during the workshop. Yup, pretty much continuously. Is teaching yoga a given, if one is a practitioner? Or is the question simply the yoga workshop equivalent of “Hot enough for ya?”

At first I just laughed at the question, because it is so clear that I have no business whatsoever teaching, and if anyone sees my practice or (horrors) experiences one of my adjustments, that ought to be pretty apparent. I felt pretty disconnected during the adjustment workshop sessions. I love to coach people, and am frequently a “mentor” at work. But physically adjusting people? Gah! UNQUALIFIED!

Then I started getting worried.

At the risk of setting off some kind of riot, I have to ask: is the teaching bar set too low?

I’m not trying to be incendiary — this is just what’s on my mind. Seems a fair question. I mean, if I am traveling to work with a teacher in hopes of getting some kind of perspective on my own practice, how in the world could I be expected to help other people with theirs? Let’s get real here: I am at the very beginning of an intermediate practice.

Offering useful information based on my own experience? UNQUALIFIED! (Interestingly, Matthew specifically asked people NOT to go into “teaching mode” with each other during the adjustment sessions. He just wanted us to look and try to learn by our eyes and our hands and simple “yes, that’s better/feels more stable/etc.,” kinds of feedback from the adjustee. This is very wise counsel.)

***

“Knows enough to be dangerous.” That’d have to be the tagline on my yoga teacher business card. The thing is, people would laugh and possibly think the tagline a sign of humbleness, but then they’d probably STILL let me teach them.

I don’t know, maybe I will re-think this and it won’t seem like such a big deal. For now, though, it all just makes me want to step back.

What can I tell you about the workshop that will actually be practical and useful?

***

I’m going to try out the exercises I learned for a while and see how it goes. If they are fruitful, I will detail them (or video them). With a repeat of the disclaimer above, of course.

Because seriously, you shouldn’t trust me to be your teacher.

 

MS: Day 6 of 7

What to say about the Matthew Sweeney workshop… I don’t want to go into too much detail, as I am typing this on the iPhone, which is an enormous pain.

One thing I know for sure: it rocks to just do yoga all day. Mysore practice in the morning. Next accomplishment? Have breakfast. Next accomplishment? Reading or a nap. Adjustment workshop from noon ’til 3. Early dinner. Read. Go to bed.

Heaven.

Here’s my high level review of Matthew as a teacher:
1) He is absolutely respectful of each individual’s personal and psychological space.
2) He is all about empowering the practitioner.
3) Neither 1 nor 2 is a marketing gimmick.

Interestingly, he seems more free of transference issues than any teacher or professor I’ve ever dealt with. And this does not come at the expense of humor or charm.

He seems absolutely committed to teaching individuals, and equally committed to not creating psychological entanglements. Maybe this is a characteristic of traveling teachers? Whatever. It is incredibly refreshing.

If you need (or want) to learn to contain your own practice within your self, you might want to spend some time practicing with Matthew.

 

Diamond Story

I go into work at noontime today. One of the managers tells me she’s having a bad day. She looked at her hand when she was typing and realized the diamond was missing out of her ring.

The ring is beautiful, a combination wedding/engagement ring. Avant garde design, with a pressure setting. The metal of the setting has two finishes, one matt and one shiny. And a detail line of small diamonds. The main diamond was from her husband’s family. She felt really bad about losing something that had been in his family for so long.

She’d looked all over the building, in her car, across the parking lot. By the time I got in to work, she’d given up. She’s quite calm and philosophical, so she was busy coming to grips with what had happened.

As she told me the story, I flashed on a memory of being in one of our conference rooms, talking with her and another manager. I recalled looking at her ring from across the table and being curious that I could see the detail diamonds flashing, but no reflection from the main stone. I thought it was an optical illusion of some sort.

It took me a minute to remember what day the meeting had taken place and which meeting room we’d been in. I didn’t say anything to her, but took a stroll over to the room, recalled where she’d been sitting and looked under the table. There, sure enough, was the diamond, exactly as I imagined.

It was very cool — unravelling all of this from a little fragment of perception.

I went back to her desk.

“Close your eyes and put out your hand…”

“You found it!”

She was so happy. What a nice way to finish up on my last day before vacation.

 

Sabda Brahman

Philosophy of the Grammarians

Three-quarters of language remain hidden in a cave, while the fourth part fashions creation.

Thinking is seen as internal speaking to which not enough prana or breath has been added to make it overt. Writing, the focus of attention for the modern West, is seen by vyakarana as a coded recording of the oral, which can never perfectly represent all the nuances of the spoken word and is therefore always secondary.

 

Puppies, holiday practice, sage

A few pictures from the breeder. The puppies are getting bigger.

Aren’t they hilarious? I am amazed at how excited I am about the new puppy.

***

Led class with VBG this morning. Small group; nice and warm (102). My hip flexors shockingly ache-full in urdhva dhanurasana. Like angry steel cables. I persevered.

Afterwards, chanting. Sanskrit Scholar led. I always feel bad, subjecting her to my tone-deafness, but she is gracious. It was challenging; I hate being the center of attention, so the getting called upon to chant solo was pretty scary. Again, persevered.

In the end, though, it was worth it: went out for a nice lunch with Sanskrit Scholar. Time to catch up after all her travels. She is a dear soul, and I’m grateful for her friendship. Stand out in the parking lot, after lunch, sun so hot you can smell the sage bushes surrounding the parking lot. Summer in the desert. Nice.

 

Small things

Wake up. Walk into the kitchen. Think, “Oh crap, I’ve given myself arthritis in my hips.” Consider how hip replacement will mean too much time off from practice. On the up side, maybe I can get bionic hips with freakish range of motion. Google glucosamine.

Start practice. La la la la la. Baddha konasana. Holy smokes, that hurts! Lie back on the mat. Okay, something is freaking out in there — vibrating, like Elvis leg on a scary climb. Could it be the psoas? Maybe. But I’m starting to suspect the adductors are the culprits.

Good. Hurts like hell, and bothersome all day, but at least not my joints.

***

This morning the trees were delivered from the nursery. So pretty. Two mesquite and a palo verde. Also a weird little tree called a Texas Ebony. An ocotillo and half a dozen sage bushes.

And the fan palm we rescued when my parents’ neighbors were going to get rid of it is finally starting to send out new leaves. It’s a survivor.

 

Making tools

I can’t help myself; I love props and tools. For yoga, or for any endeavor. My professional background is in learning technology, which is all about enabling learning through the use of tools and technology.

Lately, I find myself scraping for kapotasana adjustments. Sure, I can work my lumbar and thoracic in urdhva dhanurasana and any number of other backbends, but what about my stubborn shoulder/tricep inflexibility? How can I address it more directly? Trust me, I’ve used sandbags, wall rope configurations, the couch and bunches of blocks to try to get at the shoulders, to no avail.

Last night, in (my favorite!) hypnagogic state, I had a little brainstorm. It involves rope, but not my wall ropes. Nope. My old climbing rope.

I cut off a length of rope, wound it through the handle on the floor under my wall ropes, and tied some knots into it.

Then I stepped into the ropes, went over backwards, and grabbed the knots with my hands. Started pullin’ ‘em in.

Woohoo! It works. (Kinda. Look at my elbows. So sad.) Anyhow, no warm up, since it’s a Moon Day, but I’m psyched to really try it tomorrow after a proper practice. Begging for kapo adjustments? Perhaps a thing of the past…