I intended to write a blog about my passion for gentle yoga. I mean the kind of yoga class that focuses on breath, mind and body awareness, rather than on a physical work-out. The type of class that soothes the soul and leaves you totally relaxed and in tune with yourself, at least as far as I am concerned. But life had something different in mind for me today. And since I like to go with the flow, what else can you do as a yogi? (although sometimes I can be a little stubborn too: “I don’t want this, I want that!”), I leave my thoughts about gentle yoga for another day.

Today I received a very special healing. It was special because it not only changed my energy (I could literally feel my second chakra fizz like orange Fanta, how about that?!), but also the way I look at the bigger picture called Life. Even though what happened today could be considered as rather personal, I’d like to share it with you anyway. Because I hope that you can benefit from it too. Or at least get inspired.

I lie on the massage table with my eyes closed. The healing practitioner is asking me questions and I answer. It is as if the answers are given by someone or something else. At least I don’t  feel like I am making them up. Then she asks me if I see anything. To my surprise, I still have my eyes closed, I see something indeed. I see a narrow, winding, staircase. Each step is made of a smooth, round pebble stone. The staircase winds down into the earth. There is a space at the end of the staircase. It is dark, but not uncomfortable. I think I have been here before. But it feels totally different. It is not scary, cold and lonely. It just is what is is: dark and nothing. From the staircase light is shining down. I walk up the staircase. I notice that the dark space is not very far under the surface. There is actually only a very thin layer between the “underground” and the “above ground”. I am in a wide and green open space. The sky is blue and the light is bright. It looks like a lush meadow, at the size of a South Dakota prairie. The staircase goes further up. The cobble stone steps just float in the air, each individually. I walk up the stairs. There is a large door. It is closed. I am not allowed in. It is for grown-ups only. I don’t really mind, I rather go play anyways. I go down the stairs and run playfully around in the green. Suddenly I start to laugh out loud. I see that the closed door has changed into an open gate. Light is shining through the gate. I can walk right through it. And here is the funny thing: on the other side of the gate, the stairs lead straight back onto the meadow. I can’t stop laughing. Why bother wanting to go up and through that gate?! “As it is in Heaven it is on Earth”, has a completely different meaning now. What this means to me exactly, I’ll leave for another time (or maybe just to myself). And it is not so important for you to know. On the other hand, I’d encourage you to look within and see what comes up. I hope you too will find some healing therein.

And let’s talk some more about yoga another day. Any thoughts on gentle vs. vigorous yoga? Feel free to let me know!

Namaste,

Marije

 

Atha Yoga Nushasanam. This is the first Sutra of the Yoga Sutras, the ancient yogic scriptures that are attributed to Patanjali. During my yoga teacher training at Kripalu, I learned that these four words of wisdom can be translated as: Now the Inquiry of Yoga. Subtitles again, please! What does the “inquiry of yoga” mean? And what do you do with it? Why should you inquire about yoga in the first place? I don’t know that I have the answer to these questions. Maybe there is no answer to these questions. There is certainly no right (as opposed to: wrong) answer. But let me share some of my thoughts with you.

Inquiry in this respect means, I was taught, to go out into the mystery without knowing and not wanting to find the answer. Which mystery? Knowing what? Answer to which question? On paper it seems all very confusing. And maybe even too theoretical to be used in practice, let alone your yoga practice. But the interesting thing is: somehow these four Sanskrit words keep coming back to me when I practice yoga. I ask myself questions. Ah yes, the inquiry indeed!

Yesterday I took a class at the new yoga studio at the end of our street. I took Margo’s class. She teaches, what I call, “kick-ass” Ashtanga yoga. I mean that in a good way. And there it is: the first question arises while I am walking to the studio (the inquiry!). “Why am I taking this class?”

I go to Margo’s yoga class because I know the practice will be challenging. Physically challenging. At least for me. I don’t think I am lazy otherwise.  However, when I do my own practice I tend to stay within my comfort zone. I practice postures that feel good at that moment (there you have it: after a, apparently, subconscious inquiry I decide what yoga poses feel good at that specific time). And these postures generally do not include Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana or Kurmasana that Margo makes me do. (If you have no idea what I am talking about: again, the inquiry! And maybe Google in this case..) I like being challenged though. I like to explore new edges of my comfort zone. Maybe even stretch them out a little, together with my hamstrings and inner thigh muscles.

There are other challenges during this yoga class too. Did someone say “ego”? Even a yoga teacher still has an ego that wonders if she is doing well enough. Well enough compared to what? To whom? To the girl next to me? She certainly is very fit and strong and jumps into one-legged Chaturanga Dandasana without making a sound, something I cannot do. Quickly enough I become aware of my thoughts and focus on my own practice again. I listen to my breath and move accordingly. This, by the way, has as a result that I am slightly behind the whole class all the time. I guess I am a slow breather. I keep telling myself that it is all about the breath. I inquire how I feel. I feel good. There is not even a moment that I long for a Child Pose, even though my body is getting tired. I have read once, that when you practice well, you shouldn’t even be able to tell what the person next to you in the yoga class looks like. When we are in a Seated Twist, I cannot help but notice the tattoos on my neighbor's arm and back though. I try not to pay attention. I wonder nonetheless what they mean. Oh well, at least I am aware of my thoughts!

I do not intend to fill in what Atha Yoga Nushasanam should mean for you, or what questions you should ask yourself. I do think, however, that it will enhance your yoga practice (not only on the mat, but also in daily life) when you do ask yourself questions. That you are aware of what you are doing, what you are thinking, and why. The challenge is not to be pressed for an answer, and let go of the result. That is a practice in itself, that may last a life time. No wonder these ancient Sutras are still up-to-date!

Namaste,

Marije