Chicken Soup for the Ashtangi Soul
Today was the first time I chose intermediate series after being sick. I have been battling a bit of a flu the last few days and today was my first day back on my mat since falling sick three days ago. Usually i opt for primary series, “yoga chikista” as they say -yoga therapy. Primary is often used as a reset, a regrounding, regrouping practice. Something nourishing to reestablish any funk we may have gotten into. But for me it just felt too heavy. After being in a sick bed for close to 72 hours, the last thing I wanted was to be pulled further down.
It was curious to me, as I made my way through standing poses and felt the voice of second series beckoning me forth -was I actually craving kapotasana? This is not unheard of, but I found it an unusual request after a bout with the flu. Now I wanted to battle my existential demons as well?
So, while modifying a lot to conserve strength, I dipped my toe into intermediate. Pasasana stretched my chest and I felt growth and expansion in my heart and throat. I knew I had made the right choice. Settling into my rhythm, it was beautiful how I could meet these intense postures with more softness and surrender than I have before. There's usually this sort of undercurrent of fiery prowess bubbling beneath the surface during intermediate practice. Showing up in bursts like kapotasana, the lift out of eka pada, and of course the mighty karanda. What if I just turned this down to a simmer? What if I just rode the current through these shapes and allowed the experience to happen? Well friends, the most magical thing occurred. I found my breath and played around with deepening it, while keeping my muscles all but the slightest bit engaged. How much effort is really required? Or rather a better way to say it is -what *kind* of effort is required? Because that is quite different indeed.
Walking along the edge of the body’s energetic landscape is a subtle art, arcane even. Which gives credence to the importance of having a teacher in our tradition, as well as the emphasis on “practice” in the yoga sutras. How else can we navigate these paths without actually traversing them? In Ustrasana, for example, how do we complete the circuit between fingers and feet? How do we find presence within our big toes without overly contracting some muscle and hardening the process? Can we learn to isolate each and every moveable part from the inside out?
I’m convinced this is the difference between people who do asana, and people who practice yoga. This subtle understanding that asana is a tool meant to reflect our obstacles here on the physical plane. It would be absurd for me to expect my practice to feel the same after a flu, as it does when I’m at the peak of my health. Riding these waves for the last few years has given me the chance to practice against a myriad of life experiences, and eventually we learn to meet ourselves where we are at on our mats, and take what we need.
I feel drawn towards a superficial softness. Like I need to blur my edges a little bit. My core seeks fire and purification, but my limbs beg for a rest. How do I pull back without losing my edge? Well maybe thats the thing -maybe I have to be willing to lose a bit of an edge…