Tristana

There is an aspect of Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga practice called tristana. Like "yoga" it is both a practice and the state achieved through the repetition of that practice. I'm hoping to get up a few blogs that will look at tristana from a few viewpoints, all of which have emerged organically from practice and teaching. First of all, though, let's lay the groundwork with some definitions and background.

Other than good ol' blood, sweat, and tears on the mat, I have learned the little bit I know about tristana from study of books on Ashtanga and, to a lesser extent, study with Western Ashtanga teachers. In something like 15 total weeks spent with Sharath, to my knowledge I have not heard him discuss it, but this isn't much of a surprise. He has his hands full; at any given time at least 50% (usually more) of the students at the shala seem to be relative beginners in the sense that they are working on Primary and possibly the first third of Intermediate. Remember that additional techniques (eg Ashtanga pranayama) are not taught until at least the completion of Advanced A, so I usually consider that students are beginners until at least that point.

Tristana means "three points of attention" or, maybe "the union of the three points of attention." "Yoga" can mean a technique or a state, but usually means a technique; "tristana" is the same, but usually means a state, a state of flow attained when everything falls into place just right. However, it can also more pragmatically be used to discuss incorporating the various strands of Ashtanga practice.

The three points of attention are vinyasa, bandha, and drishti. In effect, this is at least four points of attention, as vinyasa includes ujjayi breath + correct movement in and out of asanas. Bandhas are the physio-energetic points of attention along the central axis of the body, just above the perineum and in the lower part of the abdomen. Drishti is a specified gazing point for each movement. So, for every moment of Ashtanga practice, there is a specific breath, body position, internal focus, and gazing point. When, through repetition, these individual, effortful elements of experience coalesce into an effortless, absorbing state, it is called tristana. Tristana, in my humble opinion, is what gives Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga such depth and challenge.

Some historians of contemplative traditions point to a distinct shift in religious ceremony in Indian history. Ancient shamanic cultures believed that their ceremonies drove the universe, and therefore invested time and energy into performing rites properly to ensure the crops would grown, the seasons would follow one another, the rains would come, etc. Over time, these ceremonies become more and more intricate and at some point, the priests began to realize that perhaps the only element of the ceremony not yet under control was the state of mind of the priest. Thus contemplation entered spiritual practice and ceremony.

Similarly, each individual passes through most of the stages of his or her species and culture, in condensed form, during the lifetime. There is a point during Ashtanga Vinyasa practice when one realizes that in attempting to manage all of the separate pieces of breath, posture, count, gaze, etc the most important (and slippery) element is the mind and, in fact, it is the influence of the mind that all of those separate elements aim at anyway.

There is a paradox in that moment, for it becomes clear that the thinking mind can in fact only focus on one thing at a time. Like a smartphone it can keep several apps running, but only one at a time can really, truly be at the forefront at a time. The only way for these elements to come together and be held equally in attention is by weaving them together in an absorbing experience, one that goes beyond simply "thinking about" something. This act transcends the thinking mind.

Just the Three of Us

Usually, we have two of everything. Two mats, two coffee cups, two beers, two towels, two toothbrushes, etc. We like it that way, thank you very much. But for the last few days, there have been three of us.

We took Matthew out to lunch yesterday and had a great time (portobello sandwich with fries—er, chips, if you're curious). It doesn't sound like we will be hosting a Sweeney workshop at tapas anytime soon, as he's moving quickly out of the traveling yoga circus business and trying to set up fixed month-long courses in Byron Bay, AUS and Thailand. Still, it was great fun to be out-nerded in yoga-nerd talk.

You'd think Matthew would want to talk about anything BUT the y-word, but he keeps bringing it up. Funniest story: pissing Guruji off by doing a difficult arm balance perfectly on the first try. "He said 'Uh…correct' and waddled off to get somebody else." Funniest yoga observation: all of the "old-timers" (long-term Ashtangis) are perpetually crabby from the sleep deprivation of getting up too early. "They said it's more holy. I say 'Bollocks!'" Tonight will be another potluck at Fran and Kathy's house. The last one was a blast, so we're really looking forward to this one.

Fridays are supposed to be self-practice days just like Mon-Thursday, but they are to be "adjustment free." In practice, this means that each of us does our own thing, including Matthew. You'd think everyone would come out just to watch him practice, but you'd be wrong. Friday mornings are a ghost town, and today it was just the three of us from about 7-9a. Pretty fun. Still not sure who it was that farted…

K and I are both "splitting" on Mondays and Tuesdays and practicing Intermediate Series only on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and then either Primary or Moon on Fridays. "Splitting" means doing Primary up to Marichyasana D or Baddhakonasana and then beginning Intermediate Series.

We've been told to only do half of the jumpbacks during Primary, based on a rule that goes something like: "If you CAN do all of the jumpbacks, then you don't HAVE to." Presumably, this is specific to the phase of adding on Intermediate postures. It IS nice to have a little left in the tank when getting to the difficult middle section of Intermediate. K is working on Karandavasana and I (E) have been stopped at Nakrasana, though I do a pretty lame "knee friendly" Karandavasana modification.

One distinct thing about Matthew's teaching is that he likes students to emphasize the backbending section of the practice. Standard format for a Primary-level student is three press-ups, three dropbacks, and then assisted backbending. He suggests doing four or five of each of these things, as well as prefacing each with one or two modified, easier versions (half-bridge before press-ups, half-bends before dropbacks, etc). Both K and I are right in the thick of learning hand-stand dropovers, so also in our practice are a few exercises for this, which include headstand/forearm balance dropovers and handstand half-bends. I'm exhausted just typing it all. It DOES, however, make for a sweet, sweet rest at the end.

K continues to wow with assisted Tiriang Mukhottanasana (standing backbending all the way around to hold the ankles/legs). With Matthew's help, she is catching close to the knee—imagine a person bent around backward, holding the knees with the hands, shaped like a capital letter "P." It's usually quiet enough in the room to hear the Rice-Crispy pops of the spine. Wicked!!

One weekend of workshops left. Tomorrow (Sat) will be lead Simha (Lion) sequence in the morning and a technique-based inversion workshop in the afternoon. Sunday will be Pranayama and Meditation. Next week we expect to learn the Lion sequence, which we will then practice over the next year or so with Matthew as correspondence teacher. Things will wrap up on Thursday, with Matthew, Fran & Kathy all leaving town on Thursday night.

Maffew

One week into this one month yo-cation with M Sweeney and things are going very well. In our limited experience, the traveling yoga life seems to have certain common elements: hot climate, small quarters, early mornings, friendly people, and lots and lots of coffee.

Basic schedule—

Sunday afternoon: Pranayama & Meditation
Monday-Thursday morning: Mysore-style practice
Monday afternoon: Teacher Training
Friday morning: Mysore-style practice, but "adjustment free"
Saturday morning: Led class
Saturday afternoon: Technique workshop

There are no more than 25 students here for the bulk of the program (Mysore practices & workshops). The weekend workshops can be attended ala carte, so those have a few more students. Some students will only be here for the first two weeks. We have met students from other parts of North Carolina, Texas, Minnesota, and Alaska (!!). The studio hosting Matthew is Ride the Breath, owned by Fran Slavich and Kathy Hallen. The studio is located in the back of their house just a stone's throw from the east part of the Duke campus here in Durham. It is relatively small and wonderfully intimate. The morning practices are warm (not hot) and moist.

Matthew teaches both Ashtanga sequences (he has mastered the first four) and his own sequences from his book Vinyasa Krama. Mysore classes are much different than with Sharath. For one, Mysore classes here are limited to 15 people (there are probably about 10 in our 8a time slot) so attention is the norm. There is quiet conversation, levity & joking, and none of the gravitas (and pseudo-gravitas) of KPJAYI. It is that environment we try to create: genuine but not (necessarily) serious. There are students working on Matthew's first two sequences (Moon and Lion) as well all four of the Ashtanga sequences that Matthew teaches. Fran is 2/3 of the way through fourth series, something he talked about at a potluck and he Kathy hosted on Friday night. A few notable quotes:

"I'm about 2/3 of the way through fourth and I don't know if I'm going to finish. I'm 48, and that shit is hard!!"

"Mulabandhasana is the first posture. It's 530 in the morning!"

It has been a bit jarring to slip into what is ultimately a very comfortable teacher-student relationship with Matthew. K and I both realized that we were operating from a Sharath mindset at first, and therefore found a few things off-putting:


1) Matthew remembered who we were.
2) Matthew takes an active interest in teaching. Creepy…

A little hyperbole there, but our experience here so far has truly been the opposite polarity from the gruff, Indian experience.

We are both at about the same place in practice: Primary is good and we'll probably be learning the rest of Intermediate along with Intermediate backbending (handstand dropovers with control) during the next two weeks. We then expect to learn the beginning of the Lion sequence during the last week. Unlike the Moon sequence, we have not dabbled with the Lion sequence on our own (except in subjecting our students to sections of them in Vinyasa classes!!), but have heard rave reviews from Fran and Kathy.

Two bits of tapas news…we will begin instructing the Moon sequence to interested students upon our return, especially in Mysore classes…we have tentative plans to begin early morning Mysore sessions this fall, so start getting up a little earlier to get ready…

The end is nigh

“Tomorrow you come. 430. BOAT!” (Tomorrow you should both come at 430.)

The last week of shala practice stretches before us…Time seems to accelerate here as numbers dwindle and thoughts turn to home. It is strange how the process of ending our study here (decreasing classes sizes, farewells to friends, packing up, etc) interacts with feelings about studying here. We feel ready to return home, but that is due in large part to the fact that the “season” is ending. We are staying until the end of the party, and it’s nearly done. Yet, it also feels that, under different circumstances (e.g. Sharath were not taking a break) we could easily stay for another four months (six months is the maximum for any one trip). In many respects, this ending of the yoga “season” is the exception: Guruji taught virtually unceasingly for nearly 60 years. Usually, students stay for as long as they can and when they leave the shala is still running at capacity, and continues to do so while they resume their home lives and think about the next trip.

There is that twinge of sadness when anything so anticipated and enjoyed ends, but there is no alternative: there is something about the culture of the shala and, in particular, the bearing of Sharath, that states clearly that this is not about staying indefinitely. He is not supportive of the yoga bum lifestyle. He does not want students shirking responsibilities or foregoing a “normal” life to simply live here. What he wants to see is a stability in and integration of the practice both here and in a daily home life, whatever that may be. We have heard from other senior ashtangis that one of Guruji’s main qualifications (perhaps the only one) for granting teaching authorization was the witnessing of a transformation in the person by practicing at the shala and, especially, NOT at the shala. Sharath also hinted at this when he mentioned “seventh and eight series’: marriage and children.”

The final student conference ended with an appropriate topic: guru and sadhaka (student). In his usual oblique way, Sharath did not directly say that he chose this topic because all of his students will soon be leaving, but the connection was clear. Surprise, surprise, dear reader, but Sharath has NOT tried other forms of yoga, nor does he have any interest in doing so. He feels what he has been taught is working for him. He also feels that his students, if they feel what he is teaching them is working, should stick with this method, returning to study with him and/or other senior ashtanga teachers. We couldn’t agree more. The difficulty is determining what is meant by “working” and distinguishing between the inherent discomforts of the system and true pangs of change when it is time to look elsewhere. Unfortunately, it is ultimately, entirely, up to you.

Before long the serious tone of conference was gone and it was again time for Sharath to bust a move (or two). This time it was Sirsasana B: the “lift-up” headstand, plus some other variations. Hard to say why Sharath is so eager to demonstrate these days: perhaps because he is more proficient in asana than English, or perhaps because he knows what we all want to see. All we know is people get damn excited when he takes off his shirt and ties up his lunghi!

It was also a great final registration with Sharath (we had to pay for our last two days). Steeled for a desperate attempt at an actual conversation, we found him to be open and willing, if not eager, to talk. We shared out “situation” (no authorized teacher for 200 miles in any direction), asked about his break (going to Africa to take some wildlife pics), and ended up looking at quite a few of his pictures. The man loves big cats. The pictures were really pretty impressive: of lions and wildebeests, tigers and elephants. He also showed us some of the “over 300” asana pictures he has had taken of himself at the old shala in Lakshmipuram. His mock secrecy about these pictures (“for a ‘project’”) quickly dissolved and we ended up with quite a scoop. Read on…

After nearly three weeks with barely a glance, K has been given five postures in nearly as many days. Today she practiced up through Kapotasana. Sharath then asked how it went for her and, basically, if she cheated in Laghu Vajrasana (the posture before Kapotasana) or not. She claimed innocence; however, tomorrow it will be down to the nitty-gritty: “You show me.” Being moved this far into Intermediate Series (Kapotasana) was the “best case” scenario before the trip, so it’s satisfying. However, it’s a hell of an intimidating posture, especially learning to dropback straight into it, as is the practice here: lean back and catch the heels before putting the elbows (or hands, for that matter) down.

I (E) have receive no postures, but plenty of $hit from Sharath: “This NOT ashtanga yoga” (remarking on my ardha baddha padmottansana modification); “Wery bad garbha pindasana” (repeated three or four times until I realized he was talking to me); etc. I think he was maybe expecting that I wouldn’t still be modifying… There is no doubt that I am the only student doing any modifications who has also been granted any (two) Intermediate postures. His comments are not the cuddly, supportive atmosphere we might expect in the West, but some how—the sadomasochistic tendencies of ashtangis—it is part of the allure. His comments are pretty half-hearted and really, if he’s not giving more postures, what else is there to say? Don’t worry Sharath: I ain’t mad at ‘cha.

As Sharath gets ready for his break from teaching, we are looking forward to our return to it. It is very difficult to say why coming here helps teaching: we haven’t learned any new postures or adjustments or applications, or anything like that at all. To some extent the immersion back into being a student renews the import of the teaching role. In other ways the shala itself is inspiring: there is a depth and solemnity amidst the superficial, frantic energy of the practice space on any given day. Finally, strangest of all, there is Saraswathi. As a teacher, she’s just so damn HAPPY all the time, bopping around the shala, backbending students, humming to herself all the while. When you come up out of the deepest backbend of your life and see her smiling face, you can’t help but grin stupidly, feeling the scream die in your throat.

We are saying goodbye to our friends Vanessa and Vikram. Last week the silence of the shala was broken during Vikram’s backbending with Sharath. It started off with the usual exchange when a student is just learning to grab his/her own heels/ankles.

S: “Walk your hands.” (In toward the feet in Urdhva Dhanurasana). “Good, now catch.”
V: Claws his way into holding his right heel.
S: “Walk. Other side. Catch!”
V: Reaching…reaching…desperation mounting…finds the left foot and gets a grip.
S: “No, no, that is MY foot!”

Ok, back to “the scoop.” The asana photos Sharath showed us included some recognizable poses, but also some very advanced postures, almost certainly fifth and sixth series: hovering in chatvari w/ the legs in padmasana (only the hands on the floor), each foot in the same side armpit (dwi pada yogadanasana?), etc. As he showed us the pics, we guessed about the “project”:

“Are you working on a book?”
“Yes. Maybe one or two years. Many things I want to say.”
“There are many yoga books.”
“Yes. Many of them are crap.”

Soon, ashtanga yoga returns to the Quad Cities. No crying!

Hell yeah

All signs in Gokulum indicate that the yoga season is winding down.

Sharath’s last day teaching will be Friday, April 9th. Saraswathi will continue teaching keeping the shala open until the end of April, and then again beginning in June. Sharath will run the second annual session of teacher trainings (invite only) in June and July, and then resume teaching in mid-August. Many students are already planning their next trip back, even as this one winds down. And for the time being, winding down is certainly what is happening.

We’ve watched students depart and noticed smaller and smaller classes on led days and waits on Mysore days. This week Sharath cancelled the second Led Primary class on Sunday, as the number of students has dropped enough to fit them all (though not exactly comfortably) into one class. Direct result: less haste from Sharath in turning over the room to the next group, meaning Sunday’s 430a class had, according to Sharath, “longest savasana since January.” This is true, but not all that remarkable, as many led classes didn’t have any rest, and often not even a closing chant. We will reregister one more time, as our current registration will expire two days before the end, and in all likelihood end up with a 430a start time on Mysore days, beginning with the first group of the morning. That will also be the last and best opportunity to say whatever we have to say—if anything—to Sharath.

The posture distribution (or lack thereof) is forever an interesting and entirely useless topic of conversation. K’s long drought ended this morning when she was given two new postures. She is now up to parsva dhanurasana. There is loose talk about using that last reregistration time to ask to Sharath for “help” with the postures up through kapotasana, in effect requesting more postures. Usually asking directly is a serious faux pas, but the ways in which students ask-without-asking are myriad. (Read some thoughts on this by long-time ashtangi Matthew Sweeney here.)

Most common is to simply do your last posture over and over again, giving Sharath that many more opportunities to notice you and your obvious need for the next posture. Some students who really make use of this strategy seem to be stuck in a loop and, especially if they are on the mat next to you, it can take a few cycles and some mild deja vu before you realize that time is still passing for everyone else. Another strategy is making sure to get Sharath, not Saraswathi, for backbending.
















A quick recap: in backbending, the typical procedure is three “press-ups” (urdhva dhanurasana) from the floor coming up to standing after the last one. Then three cycles of dropping back and standing up. At that point, you wait for the assist, standing at the front of the mat with your arms crossed (the signal). Most people want to get Sharath for this, because he will often use the opportunity to give another posture. Accomplishing this (getting Sharath) is often a matter of avoiding Saraswathi by: adding extra dropbacks, going to the locker room, fixing your hair/mat/clothes, doing your own improvisational “warm-ups,” and generally keeping your eyes open so that you can appear ready if Sharath comes near and not ready if Saraswathi is near. Be warned, though, Saraswathi is cagey. She’s less than five feet tall and moves through the room largely unseen. Many a yogi has confidently crossed the arms in the “I’m ready” signal upon seeing Sharath approaching, only to have Saraswathi spring up out of nowhere.

Both of us have made peace with Saraswathi’s assists and have made significant progress with her help. This simplifies things and avoids the most significant risk in using any of the stalling tactics mentioned above: Sharath may come over and tell you to hurry up and finish, because people are waiting. This means: “Hey, I see you already and I’m not going to give you a pose, so let’s wrap this thing up.”

As this season draws to a close, we’re saying goodbye to the students we’ve met, and the far greater number that we don’t know, but recognize and therefore have developed a system for referring to. So, to Incense Lady, Sleeveless, Line Cutter, Guy We Thought Was Fabio, Tiny Shorts, Line Cutter’s Friend, That Awesome Chick, Fashionista, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Boris, The Bobsey Twins, The Russian Mafia, Old Hollywood Girl, The New Hollywoods, Guy w/ the Baby, Lululemon Bra, and so many others: we can only guess at your names for us; see you all again soon.

We’ve wrapped up a busy week (for us, for Gokulum), the highlight of which was surely a five day anatomy course with Noah Mckenna. Noah is one of the yogi/entrepreneurs here who does not study at the shala, but comes into town when the numbers at the shala are high. He teaches anatomy courses and gives individual body scan/typing & yoga therapy sessions. We found the anatomy course very useful, with just the right combination of information and application to keep it relevant and interesting. Focusing primarily on the skeleton, musculature, and nervous system we talked a lot about kinesiology and the impact of body types and movement patterns on posture. Also inherent were some indirect but significant challenges to the rigidity and, in some ways, poor sequencing of the ashtanga vinyasa system. Noah kept these subtle, obvious-but-unstated conclusions to be drawn, of course, not wanting to be run out of town, but as a yoga therapist who sees many ashtangis come in with MRIs and blown out joints the universal application of the system and especially its tendency to breed blind faith must be, at times, bewildering. It may seem odd, but we love these challenges just as much as—in fact, probably more than—the hero worship, and fundamentalism in the air. It seems that the more we get to know the inherent limitations and flaws of any given system, the better students and teachers we can become.
So we are enjoying the last few weeks, indulging (but not too much) in all the favorites: Hot Chips, street noodles, mangoes, etc., saying things to each other like “Just so you know, I’m up for Gobi Manchurian anytime.” We are systematically working our way through the list of chats (snacks) at Gokul Chats, the best little restaurant in town. We’ve pegged the best dosa joint and know where to get gossip and coconuts in one spot. It’s a strange place to be at times, perhaps most analogous to a college campus. There is a diverse but small (relative to the size of the community as a whole) population here for one central reason. Within the larger Indian community there is a modest infrastructure to support the yoga population and most students exhaust all the opportunities in that infrastructure in a number of weeks. It can become claustrophobic or even boring if you’re not careful. Luckily, we are.

And…we're back

This brief blog hiatus was brought to you by Indian stomach flu/food poisoning/ick.
Another week has passed in Mysore and I (E) haven’t seen the inside of the shala since leaving with chills halfway through student conference. Digestive problems—what we might call “stomach flu” in the states, though in this case it’s definitely bacterial and not viral—is a risk and on our last trip we both fell ill after eating some fruit from a street vendor. This time was better, as only I got sick, but it was also worse, because I was really sick. Anyway, to shorten a long story, after some antibiotics and rehydration at the Gokulum hospital I’ve gradually improved all week (with wonderful caretaking!) and think I’m up to returning to the shala for 430a led class on Sunday.

Word is that the numbers are quickly dwindling. Sharath’s last teaching day of April 9th is fast approaching (though he has since announced that he will resume teaching in mid-August of this year) and many students are finishing up and leaving. This means that most students with any level of experience are getting in to practice by 630a or so. It also means there is a terrific logjam of students from about 530a on. Sharath’s policy seems to be “You wait so I don’t have to;” as long as he can say “One more!” and have a student quickly appear out of the waiting room, he doesn’t much care about shortening your wait time, so he has moved a huge number up students up to 530a. It is just as it used to be at the old shala with Guruji in Lakshmipuram. There it was the legendary wait on the stairs outside, with some students cutting in line and vying for position, or simply being called in out of turn by Guruji. Just like at that time, in the end everyone gets to practice and is almost certainly humbled by it.

Speaking of which, we were very excited to see the arrival two weeks ago of Alex, a very advanced student we first saw two years ago. At that time we saw him practicing at least part of the fourth series (Advanced B), which makes him the most advanced student we have seen. I, for one, distinctly remember seeing Vrschikasana (forearm balance with feet on the head). That was two years ago, so we are waiting to see what he does this time.

For advanced students (those proficient in two, three, or more series’), it seems standard to build into capacity: each student does Primary for the first week, Intermediate the second, Advanced A the third, etc until reaching his/her threshold, depending on how many times they’ve been. Alex has been doing Advanced A this week (seemingly his third week). It’s not clear whether such students follow the daily schedule here (Intermediate on Sunday, Advanced A on Mondays, etc) or if they do what other students do: their most advanced, “leading edge” practice every day, periodically receiving new postures. For us, it can be hard to do your own practice while constantly gawking at another student—especially if you are across the room from one another, for example—but we’re getting good at it.

Like anyone proficient in a skill, advanced students have a “style.” Alex does’t have the same powerful, gymnastic presence of some other advanced students, but is light, poised, and, seemingly, completely unaffected by the difficulty of the postures. He is also great fun at student conference, and often spends nearly as much time talking as Sharath. There is a great and obviously long-standing relationship between the two, and they often tell stories about one another. For example, Sharath said that at one point Alex said to Sharath “I want to see your asana practice.” Sharath said that that was impossible, because he practices at 230a, but Alex insisted. (You’ve got to love anybody with the stones to do that.) So one morning Alex came over and watched Sharath’s practice. “Such advanced postures,” Sharath said, “that just seeing them, he became enlightened.”

We celebrated the Hindu New Year on March 16 by having some kind of sweet flatbread with our landlord and family. It’s great fun to experience a set of holidays “from the outside” and take in the traditions in complete novelty. Also a wonderful random moment in the marketplace: as we were buying some fruit, a sadhu (a wandering holy man) shuffled over. He looked the part: white hair and beard, walking stick, barefoot, naked to the waist. He was hunched and little palsied with age, with a face absolutely lit up with a beatific smile.

This is a tradition we obviously cherish, so we are cautious not to be taken in by the many charlatans in orange robes, but we both had the sense that this guy was the real deal. He seemed somehow totally apart from the craze of the market and everyone in it. He shuffled over, used a long thumbnail to pinch red tikka powder from a bag, smeared bindus (forehead dots) on us, and then rested his hand on top of each of our heads for a moment (he was so small and hunched we bent down for this). Beautiful.
Finally, one more funny story, completely unrelated. Our friend David (who has since gone back to Toronto) told us about the last years of Guruji teaching. Guruji officially retired in 2007 though for some time before that Sharath was shouldering most of the load (there are stories of Guruji doing things like dozing in his chair during Mysore practice days). David said that he was in some of these Mysore classes in “the later years” and it was not uncommon to be in, say, a standing posture like Utthita Parsvakonasana and feel Guruji’s old-but-strong hand on your shoulder, side, or head. Expecting an adjustment, you would be at first surprised to see Guruji moving on to the next student—only to realize that Guruji was not giving adjustments, but instead using the students as support to cross the room. Getting a handhold wherever he could—shoulder, side, head, arm, or whatever—he would lean on one and then grab the next, like a horizontal rock climber. No disrespect here—the man was in his 90’s—but that makes for a funny visual, Guruji walking/leaning/swaying through the room, his touch at first bringing excitement, then confusion, and then possibly annoyance from each student as he bounced from one to the next.

Guruji is no longer around to wreak such havoc in the practice space, but Sharath’s youngest (two-ish) does his best, tearing into the room at any given time, echoing his dad’s count at the top of his lungs during led class, or banging his plastic cricket bat against any given thing in the otherwise quiet room. It’s hard to keep a straight face when you are in, say, setu bandhasana, reclined with the head back, shaking with effort and you suddenly see tiny, sneakered feet creeping by with all the care and caution a two-year-old can manage.

Five Weeks In

Re-registration went well. It’s a little awkward being alone in the office with Sharath, and we never know what to say, and you have to pay in cash and it’s thousands and thousands of rupees so you have this cumbersome, ridiculous wad of bills and you have to count it all out and then Sharath runs it through this bill counting machine and you can’t help but be sort of put off by the money part of it, as if that somehow taints everything, but of course THAT’S stupid, and if we could only think of something to TALK about to break the awkward feeling in that tiny office…and then it’s over. We were officially moved up to 630a, and within two Mysore practice days are sitting at 530a. There must have been quite an exodus of students in the last few days, with more arriving to fill in the later times as the students who have been here for some time move earlier and earlier into the morning. Also, strangely enough, Sharath used the re-registration time to assign me (E) Krounchasana.

Sunday proved to be quite an interesting student conference. We have not been typically impressed by student conferences in the past. They are often vague, with few questions, or with questions that Sharath doesn’t really address in specific. For whatever reason, this conference was different. Sharath was in an expansive mood and talked in specific about breathing and bandha techniques. Over the course of a few follow-up questions about how to work in the lower belly, he stripped to the waist and demonstrated uddiyana bandha (lifting and stabilizing the lower abdomen) as well as a jumpback from padmasana, saying “Now, can you do chatvari like that?” It’s nice to be taunted by your teacher. No comments about visas, so we’re guessing it’s all good for the time being.

Sharath also talked about Guruji’s final days (he died in May of 2009) as an illustration of his (Sharath’s) understanding of the purpose of practicing yoga postures: cultivation of equanimity. Though Guruji often comes up during conference, there is usually an element of deification that makes it feel superficial and saccharine. This time, however, Sharath talked with poignancy and objectivity about “this 94 year-old-man” in the hospital, being stuck with needles, in obvious pain, but serene and gracious. It was more than a student saying the obligatory things about his guru, it was a man talking about watching his grandfather in his final days and being truly surprised and inspired by the composure and mastery he saw. Sharath studied under Guruji for something like 30 years, and their bond must have been remarkable. The spontaneity and candor of Sharath’s words about Guruji’s death brought this home more powerfully than anything we have read or seen before.

It has been a nice, long week of Mysore-style practices, with no moonday getting in the way. K continues to work on the no-touch jumpback and in general we’re both working the jumping aspect of the practice intensely, as always. We are both catching the ankles consistently during backbending with both Sharath and Saraswathi. My knee continues to slowly, slowly stabilize. We’ve had some discussions with other students about injuries, and have come to appreciate something we already knew: they can take a long, LONG time to heal. One person described tearing a psoas muscle (!!!) during “hangbacks” (standing backbending practice), an injury which took “a good three years” to heal.

When practicing at this level and intensity, it is virtually inevitable that injury will happen periodically. That said, it may be useful to qualify and flesh out the understanding of “injury,” which in this context is more nuanced than usual. No doubt there are good old-fashioned injuries—as in pulled, broke, or sprained something (this current knee injury is one of these). However, in other cases a yoga injury is often the peak experience of an imbalance, or a blazing beacon to draw attention to a dead zone in the body, or a strong (possibly perceived as violent) shift in the body. It would be nice if opening/awareness always progressed slowly—it usually does—but occasionally the movement is abrupt, the way that decades of slow, imperceptible adjustments in the Earth’s crust lead to a sudden shift. After the body has healed/pain has resolved, what remains is balance and awareness, but it can be rough going in the middle of it.

With good reason, this process not often discussed by yoga teachers, for fear of encouraging recklessness. It is mostly in advanced postures that this sort of thing occurs. One student who is beginning Advanced A under Sharath was given Kasyapasana (supine leg-behind-the-head). As Sharath adjusted him in the posture, he (Sharath) said “Knee will break.” The student said “It feels ok…” and Sharath said “No, MUST break,” meaning that he (Sharath) perceives that there is still a major shift needing to happen in the knee. It’s food for thought when you consider that a) Sharath is probably one of the most advanced teachers and practitioners in the world and knows his $h*t and b) he has been known (mostly in the past) for “blowing out” knees by overadjusting. Hmmmm…

There is much buzz around Gokulum about teacher training with Sharath. It’s obviously invitation-only, but we have heard of at least one meeting he called with hand-picked students to fill out forms/gather info about teaching and teacher training. The surprising thing is that these students are not all on their 10th or 20th trip: some have only been a couple or a few times. This, of course, has set everyone speculating. It is remarkable to consider how much time and energy must be wasted every day by students trying to figure out what Sharath is thinking.

We’re looking forward to off-day, including dinner with some friends tonight, then led class on Sunday and moonday on Monday. Off-days (and especially the nights before: off-day/moonday eve) are always good for staying up a little later and sampling street food. Let the feast begin!