Astanga

When I first ventured out of my little home-practice-cave into the larger Astanga world, I think a motivating factor was my hunger for a community. I didn’t really care about the adjustments (Hatha adjustments are so tame, I really didn’t know what I was missing!). Travelling to another space for practice definitely wasn’t a draw. I was happy with my solitary practice and had even found motivation for a six-day practice on my own. But my encounters in the Astanga Blogosphere piqued my interest in other practitioners and their experiences. It made me hungry for connection.

Because I love this practice, I enjoy talking about it with others. I’m a perpetual student: I love learning new things. Hearing about the experiences of others shifts my perspective, shakes up my convictions. These conversations are particularly fruitful when I’m talking to practitioners who are coming from a radically different place in their practice - whether it’s different teachers or different styles, traditions or methodology. And when asked to defend my own beliefs about this practice, I find myself digging deep, excavating my knowledge and conceptualizing it. I learn so much about myself in this process. I uncover the limitations of my understanding. I grow.

Also: We Ashtangis are a quirky lot. Many of us are vegetarian or vegan. We eat supper early, if at all. We go to bed early. We get up early. The commitment to our practice forces us to make tough choices about things like double-chocolate cheesecake, Too Much Wine and dancing ’til the wee hours.

I’ve heard all the ‘cult’ jokes, but there’s some truth to it! There’s a language around the practice (not just Sanskrit!) and a lifestyle that emerges from our commitment to it. My ‘civilian friends’ often don’t get why I would want to stand up from a backbend, or put my leg behind my head. The subtle and not so subtle changes that come from practising Astanga are better understood by people who also do the practice. When I went through my CrazyPants week a while back, my regular friends were mystified, but I found comfort and encouragement from others in the Astanga community who had experienced similar challenges.

I’m not exactly sure what I expected from my shala experiment, but my experience so far has been a mixed bag. Though there is definitely a sense of camaraderie that comes with practising near the same people day after day after day, we often don’t talk. We can’t! We’re practising! And then we’re leaving. I’ve genuinely treasured the few conversations I’ve had with shala-mates before or after practice, but they have been few and far between. I know that I hoped to make some friends out of this.

I love the idea of a ‘yoga community’, where people can practice together and also come together outside of the practice. I’m aware that there are two schools of thought around this. Some people believe the experience of our practice should remain private and not be talked about at length with others, that doing so may even be harmful. It’s been suggested that discussing the practice can fuel comparison and competition. Some teachers even discourage viewing YouTube videos and DVDs for the same reason.

But others view the practice as a catalyst for connection - both with other practitioners and the world at large. In terms of establishing a regular practice, there’s great value in community. I doubt I could have stuck it out for so many years without the encouragement and advice offered by readers of my blog. In a sense, my blog has become part of my practice - writing about it has helped me grow as a practitioner. I hope that my encouragement has helped others to grow their practice. This thing we do, six days a week, is not easy! Being in the ‘same boat’ with other practitioners is helpful.

In Yoga Mala, Guruji talks about the power of speech and says: “...it is not good to talk too much. By talking too much, the power inherent in the tongue decreases and the power of speech is destroyed. when the power is speech is destroyed, our words, too, lose their power...” But he also goes on to say that ‘speaking of spiritual matters increases the tongue’s power’.

I’m not certain that an all-or-nothing approach is useful. I think there’s a balance to be struck, a middle-ground between idly gossiping about our practices and finding comfort and inspiration in each other’s experiences. Genuine connection with other people is a spiritual act. It brings us together, connects us to the greater whole. Beyond the edge of our Mandukas, there’s a big, wide world out there. We have a choice. We can choose to leave the energy generated by our practice on the mat or we can take it with us out into the world. I believe a supportive community can help us do that.

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Today’s practice: Technically a day off, but I hit the mat for a ‘criminal’ second series practice. Primary through Marichyasana D, then Intermediate to Laghu Vajrasana and the finishing poses. Five backbends today and a State-of-the-Backbend photo:

Eek! My hips look *less* open. For awhile, I was making such fantastic progress opening my hips, I’m frustrated to find myself regressing. But I finally figured it out: cycling. I give up my monthly transit pass in the summer in favour of riding my bicycle to the classes I teach. My hips always get a bit tighter in the summer months; it’s a tradeoff. I’ll need to do more hip openers to counter this.