How does our practice become our own practice? One that is created from and supported from within? Who is the one who will always be with us, inside of us, holding the space, the sacred space that allows for the intimate observation of our breath, our life, even at the time of our very last breath, the very end of this life? How intimate are we with this innermost host? Do we have time for this relationship?

Underneath all the other voices, the voices of our parental figures and teachers and all with whom we have been in relationship, underneath all of those voices, the chattering, poking and prodding cacophony of our histories, is a silence and a space that holds our innermost host or teacher. It takes real courage to hear and feel this silence, and then to see and listen into all that is revealed. What if we don’t like what we see? Or it doesn’t take the form we expected?

Take the limbs of practice called Yama and Niyama, for example. The Mahavratam. In the classical yoga of Patanjali, these great vows (maha-great, vratam-vow) and personal observances are the essential and transcendent principles of practice.

For example, try simply (though not necessarily easily) creating and holding space for the observation of Satya or truthfulness, one of the Yamas. Try observing truthfulness on a deep and cellular level. The cells of truth revealing themselves from within. What does this truth sound like, look like, feel like? What is it to see, hear, and feel our cells in this sacred space of truthfulness? And in creating the space for truth, cellular truth, and holding the space for such an observation, much else is revealed. But this space holder, this inner teacher, is not a judge, or critic. But rather simply holds the space for observation. Listens, sees, supports, and guides by being a continuous and powerful space holder. The space holder like a sort of super hero or heroine. And the space holder can hold space anywhere. Because the space holder is inside. For instance, you can take a walk with the space holder, who holds space for the observation of satya (truthfulness), or ahimsa (non-violence), or anything with which you are willing to hold a space for observation. This could be your breath, for example. The space is created and held by this innermost host, or space holder. But this necessitates a willingness to create and hold a sacred space for observation. And can be challenging for a number of reasons.

Of course, the willingness to be receptive, to receive whatever is revealed through this lens, or in this atmosphere, of truthfulness, for example, it isn’t necessarily easy. It can be very challenging. Mahavratam means great vow. Maha is the Sanskrit term for great. And vr (‘to will’) is the root of the word vratam (or vow). The vow, vr ‘to will’ being willingness. A willingness to see, to hear, to feel, to awaken to what is. Not as necessarily ‘to will’ as in “will away’ or will something to happen. It is more like the willingness to hold the space with out any desire or expectation. The vr or will is the willingness to provide and hold the sacred space for a particular observation. And the willingness to be receptive to whatever is revealed there.

Springtime Salutations to your Space Holder!!!

A belated and wholehearted “Thank You” to all the lovely people who attended the retreats in both Australia and New Zealand. The warmth of the folks in St Kilda was a lesson in the power of Maitri (friendliness). And the mystical and magical New Zealand was a land that is, in so many ways, beyond my capacity to describe. As with most everything in life, it is to be experienced.

As a yoga teacher I travel a lot either to study with my teacher, teach weekend workshops, or go away on retreats. I like going on retreats because I am able to focus entirely on my practice without the distractions and/or work demands of my normal schedule. It is an opportunity for going deeper, for reflection, and to soak myself in the inquiry.

I will often do a vigorous asana practice that includes plenty of twists and backbends, before going on a long trip like the one I am about to go on. The backbends are especially helpful whenever I will be sitting on a plane for a long period of time. I find that if I do a practice of these poses before I travel, I am less fatigued and my body does not feel as stiff when I arrive at my destination.

When I travel long distances I always make sure to carry a belt or two in my purse or carry-on and sometimes a super light travel mat. If I have a layover or a long delay in the airport, I lie down and do the Supta Padangusthasana cycle (leg stretches and hip openers) with traction belts and then some simple forward bends and twists like Janu Sirsasana, Parivrtta Janu Sirsasana, Ardha Matsyadrasana, and Supta Padmasana (reclining lotus). These poses ensure that I can lay low and practice without attracting too much attention. I find that these poses are incredibly relaxing and refreshing. I use these poses as a way to keep my body and mind quiet amid the chaos in the airport.

Once I am on the plane and if on a long flight, I will go back around the galley and do various shoulder openers, standing leg stretches like supported Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana (standing hand to big toe pose), Utkatasana (standing squats) and standing quad and groin stretches. If I am stuck in my seat, I will do seated leg stretches with ankle circles, some simple shoulder stretches and Padmasana (lotus) or other seated postures. For the flight I also like to bring a variety of reading materials, lots of liquid (for the plane), some light snacks and an itty-bitty book light (the airplane reading light for my eyes is awful). I’ll be able to put my full travel asana repertoire into play during my journey to Australia and New Zealand for the retreat I’m leading in February! It’s one of the longest trips I’ve ever taken and I’m super excited about it.

I do get tired of carrying props when I travel, but I always bring a mat, some belts, and a foam block or two. The mat and belts are essential. A foam block or two is also great because when I am traveling I really like to use them for supported chest and groin openers. Most of the time I can use hotel blankets and towels as additional yoga props, although I sometimes travel with my own light-weight yoga blanket.

When I pack for my trips I always bring practice clothes, and comfortable lightweight pj’s. Over the years I have learned to bring less and less. It depends where I am going, but most of the time I will take 1 pair of pants, a dress or a skirt, a couple of tops, a vest, and lightweight jacket or sweater and a wrap of some sort. As for shoes, I like clogs for the plane since they are easy to slip on and off. And I might bring tennis shoes or sandals. I like black or deep colors for my clothes because of spills and things, and I will use accessories for color. Pretty boring, I know, but I have learned that you have to lift and carry what you bring along, and it can become a burden. It’s not what you wear but how you wear it. Travel light and you will feel lighter!!!

Happy Travels!

Ancient yoga wisdom has it that we are
each gifted a certain number of breaths
in our lifetimes.

More recently, someone suggested that
a life could be better measured by the
moments that take our breath away.
These two strands of thought will come
together in what promises to be an
adventure of a lifetime: a ten day
retreat to the bottom of the world,
led by senior iyengar yoga teacher
CARRIE OWERKO.

WHEN & WHERE
FEBRUARY 24 TO MARCH 4 2012

AUSTRALIA
Yoga study at the St Kilda Iyengar Yoga School, Melbourne. Accommodation (deluxe room) at the nearby historic Prince Hotel, with rooftop pool, complementary breakfast, and in-house spa – a 5-minute walk to the yoga studio.

NEW ZEALAND
Awaroa Lodge, Abel Tasman National Park. The Lodge is a four-star property in one of the most secluded and beautiful settings in New Zealand – access is only by boat, or a two-day walk. Its organic gardens provide a large part of the produce served, and fresh local seafood is a speciality. We will sleep, study and eat at Awaroa; we’ll also be free to swim in its turquoise waters, sea kayak off the beach, and take long walks in the surrounding estuary and native bush.

JOIN US!
FULL RETREAT
Friday arrival Melbourne; Sunday departure Awaroa
Single Occupancy…………………………………………………$3400
Shared Occupancy……………………………………………….$2700

For additional options, e.g. shorter or longer stays, please contact us at carrie at carrieowerko.com.

A non-refundable deposit of $US600 is due by December 15, 2011 to reserve your space.
Balance must be paid in full by January 15, 2012. No refunds can be made if cancellation is received after January 15, 2012.

Please click to register and submit payment.

A Sanskrit word for support, or foundation, is alambana. The ‘lamb’ portion of that word means “to rest on.” You may be familiar with variations of the word such as salamba sarvangasana, or salamba sirsasana (the head and shoulder balance poses that are done with the support of the arms) verses their unsupported niralamba variations.

But an alambana can be thought of (or rather perceived to be) as a support in a much larger and more profound way. We sometimes take the support of a prop, a person, or a wall in an asana, so as to relax the nervous system sufficiently. This allows us to more accurately perceive what is going on in our bodies and with our breath. Taking the support helps increase proprioception (how we know where our body parts are in relation to each other and the environment). Taking support also allows a release of unnecessary muscular tension and the accompanying physical and mental effort, which allows us to be more sensitive and perceptive in our asana. Support allows our nervous system to relax a bit, so there are less fear-based reactions and more deliberate, skillful actions. In other words actions we take actions, which are founded on, and supported by, awareness.

But this is true in relationships as well.

I am remembering an experience that I had back in the fall of 2009 when I took my Senior Intermediate Iyengar Teaching Examination. In the US, this is the highest level of certification for which an exam is required and consequently there can be a lot of stress involved in the exam process.

I had always traveled to my exams (called assessments) by myself. There had been several, and they had been spread out over the course of several years. My husband suggested that he accompany me (that is, drive me to DC and stay with me in a hotel) and support me during the exam process. At first I was taken aback, since I had always done this by myself. And a part of me was afraid that receiving the support of another person would mean I was in some way not up to the task. I thought his presence might distract me. He assured me that he would be there as a support, someone to lean on if and when I needed it. The sweetness and selflessness of his offer softened me. “Why not?” Why not receive the support of another person? Asana, pranayama, and the philosophy of yoga (particularly) have been amazing supports for me in stressful times. So why not take the support of the one person I love more that anything, in what could be described as a stressful situation.

Needless to say this was a very powerful experience for me. Not solely because I passed the exam, but because I let myself receive the support of another. Could I have done it alone? Perhaps. But to choose to share the dance, which is really always the case in some way or another, turned out to be the single most rewarding aspect of the whole experience.

And learning to share this dance was a rehearsal for the much more difficult dance that occurred when my father died this summer. My husband was again there, an incredible support, as I try to be for him. We all do in fact lean on each other in various ways. How wonderful though to see this as a deliberate dance of shared support. We support and are supported by each other, and in that we can expend a little less effort in this process of living, we can feel a little more fully while we are here, and learn to surrender the sense of separateness that keeps off the dance floor of life.

“Without imperfection, neither you, nor I, would exist”
Professor Stephen Hawking.

What compels, propels, inspires, or calls you to practice? Why are we involved in this inquiry? Again, what motivates you…the answers? the questions? the observations? the reflections? the imperfections?

My Mother alerted me to an interesting segment on the formation of the Cosmos by Stephen Hawking on The Discovery Channel. In it he says “without imperfection, neither you, nor I, would exist.” He describes imperfections as opportunities… without them nothing would happen. The cosmic dance of creation would never have occurred. He illustrates this with an absolutely beautiful dance of steel ball bearings on a bare floor. He examines the questions of, and the effects of, gravity.

Aren’t we, as practitioners of asana always observing the effects of gravity in one way or another? And then there are the deeper questions of the forces, both outer an inner that compel, propel even, our thoughts, emotions and actions. And so I thought about my practice, because it is to me, in a microcosmic way, this type of inquiry. And I thought of something that BKS Iyengar recently said in China about practice. He said, in practice we have an opportunity for “reflection, observation, absorption, and repose”.

So I reflect once again on what compels me to practice. And the observation of imperfection does come to mind. So I wonder about the type of thinking that would define imperfection as a problem, something to be done away with, as if we could… and feel that perhaps it would be better to delve more deeply into the observation of these supposed imperfections, with the wide open eyes of wonder. To open my heart enough to take in all the imperfections and more, and in doing so allow for the depth of absorption that might reveal a much bigger picture. Revealing perhaps the bigger picture of the interdependency of relationship, of existence. Revealing, perhaps, an awe inspiring vision of a truly grand dance, one so vast that only a radical opening of mind and heart would support such an observation.

So Stephen Hawking says imperfection creates the dance of existence. Our practice may indeed be propelled (like particles in the cosmos) by these imperfections, and our observations thereof. And I am inspired by the possibilities…

We, as practitioners of yoga (and especially of asana) have many challenges when dealing with the changing nature of our bodies and minds. For those of us in the Iyengar tradition, and as students of a master such as BKS Iyengar, the physical aspects of yoga can be a particularly sticky area. I am thinking sticky because of the inevitable: Attachment. Attachment to the body. Attachment to the mind. Attachment to what they can or cannot do. Attachment to some external ideal of alignment that may be in conflict with what is. And seeing what is brings an internal alignment, an integrated state because of a profound and deep acceptance. Because of the fact that all things change, especially with regard to the body and mind, the concept of alignment cannot be a static, fixed archetype of a pose or a state, but rather a fluid, dynamic, ever – changing observation of relationships. And when this observation is truthful in its acceptance of what is perceived, then there is the possibility of some harmony in the strangest of circumstances.

Are we relating to ourselves as we actually are? Are we relating to others as they are? Or are we imposing some external idea, concept, or definition of how something, some person, ourselves, ought to be on the vision and experience of what actually is. And in doing so…missing the point (alabdhabhumikatva), missing the vision, the darsana, of what is already here. One of the reasons we practice may be to uncover the courage and confidence to see what is rather than our projections of what should be.

When I saw my father’s ravaged body in the hospital before and after he died, I thought to myself how beautiful he is, now, as he is. This body, this vessel has truly been of service. This body has been of service for his being, his country (he fought in the South Pacific in World War II), his friends and family. This vessel and all the heart, heat, ALL that it housed for 86 years, this vessel, as it is, has been of service. It is beautiful. And especially beautiful because it housed a heart that loved and hurt, and was of service.

So I am thinking that it may be helpful, for me, and perhaps for others, to remember that this body, this vessel is being of service, as it is. This vessel, when it is appreciated by heart and mind, is aligned with heart and mind, and this is the true alignment. So align body, heart and mind and live life as an offering. See, and love things, as they are, as an offering. And allow for the perfection of imperfection, as an offering. So practice as offering. Body, mind, life and love, all offerings. All appreciated. All accepted. All blessed. All divine.

The practice of Eka Pada Sirsasana (as with many of the deep, forward bending asanas) can be difficult and challenging. Besides the physical requirements of the pose, the student must demonstrate some maturity and some degree of discriminative discernment (vivekakhyatih) so as to approach the practice of these asanas intelligently. And this pose can be particularly challenging as we age, due to the accumulative wear and tear of life and the toll that this takes on our bones and joints. As we age degenerative changes can occur in the intervertebral discs of the spine, along with some degenerative changes in the cartilage of the hips and knees, etc. Given this, a certain mind (a sattvic mind) has to be developed by the practitioner so that the practice of these poses is truly Sattvic and non-harmful in nature.

A well-established practice of, and firm foundation in, the standing asanas is essential, beginning the process of “sattvasizing” the body, mind and senses of perception. The practice of these poses both stabilize and mobilize the body (and mind) and begin the process of developing awareness and sensitivity in the practitioner. As Geeta Iyengar writes: “a practitioner of yoga needs both qualities-mobility and stability, the inspiration to proceed and the adhesiveness to establish oneself”. And one needs to be able to perceive and do simultaneously. In other words, the effort to do the pose cannot overwhelm one’s ability to perceive what is happening in one’s vehicle. Developing maturity in the standing asanas is where the student begins to work on these very important principles.

The lateral standing asanas are very helpful for cultivating this stable-mobility or mobile stability, especially when one learns how to open the hips, pelvis and lower spine without destabilizing them. As the feet and legs are developed, the relationship between them and the lower portions of the spine is established. The student learns the importance of keeping the femoral heads well connected into the sockets of the hips, which helps create a stable freedom in the hips and lower back. The standing forward bending asanas along with the Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana variations further develop the necessary stability and mobility as well as a sattvic steadfastness necessary for true progress. And the practice of the revolved standing asanas can be very helpful with developing further the qualities mentioned thus far. These poses, particularly Parivtta Parsvakonasana and Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana and Parivrtta Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana, require that the student simultaneously stabilize, mobilize and integrate the actions of the feet and legs with the lower and upper portions and the spine and shoulder girdle.

The seated asanas and seated forward extending asanas cultivate even greater freedom in the hips, groin, buttocks and spine. Though the effort to stand and balance is lessened, one learns to maintain the alertness and intelligence in the lower portions of the body that the standing asanas necessitated. These poses help pacify the nervous system, further cultivating the relaxed state of alertness that is indicative of a sattvic mind.

The seated lateral twisting asanas and revolved forward extending asanas further develop the necessary stable range of motion, significantly liberating the hips, lateral buttocks, and lower and upper portions of the spine required for Eka Pada Sirsasana. And the Supta Padangusthasana cycle, especially Supta Padaguthasana III, along with Akarna Dhanurasana, Eka hasta Bhujasana, Dwi hasta Bhujasana, Bhujapidsasana, Malasana, and Kurmasana, all bring us very close to the shape and action required by Eka Pada Sirsasana.

The inverted asanas are also important, not only to stabilize the mind, but to help strengthen the upper portions of the spine and neck. These asanas must be strong before attempting to practice Eka Pada Sirsasana, as the weight of the leg can put a lot of pressure on the neck. Some students will be helped more by emphasizing a certain group of asanas and other students by yet another, so having different approaches helps keep our awareness and approach alert and dynamic. “Mobility is dynamic awareness whereas stability without mobility will lead to stagnation”.

The concepts of stability and mobility that I have been focusing on are the subject of the Yoga Rahasya article that I have been quoting in this essay. Geetaji examines these concepts and links them to Patanjali and the concepts of Abhyasa and Vairagya. She writes on Sutra I.12: “He (Patanjali) instructs us to have the abhyasa, to practice, and also to develop vairagya, the desirelessness. We think that he has given us two methods, abhyasa and vairagya. But abhyasa indicates mobility and vairagya stability. It is a perfect combination or chemistry of stability and mobility”.

Patanjali writes of nine obstacles or impediments to practice: “The obstacles are distractions caused by disease, dullness, doubt, carelessness, laziness, craving, delusion, non-attainment of desired objective and unsteadiness.” (sutra 1.30, Rohit Mehta, The Art of Integration). BKS Iyengar translates sutra 1.30 thusly: “these obstacles are disease, inertia, doubt, heedlessness, laziness, indiscipline of the senses, erroneous views, lack of perseverance, and backsliding.”

Some of the commentaries suggest that these obstacles all emerge from the first one on the list, “dis-ease” or vyadhi. In the second chapter of Patanjalis yoga sutras, we learn that Patanjali sees avidya or ignorance as the root or even the soil from which the other afflictions of egoism, attachment, aversion, and fear, or clinging to life, emerge (sutras 2.3 through 2.5).

In some ways, misunderstanding, or avidya, is somewhat like the “dis-ease” of vyadhi in sutra 1.30. When we are uneasy, upset, ill at ease or not well in some way, physically or emotionally, the subsequent afflictions can easily become manifest and further distract and disturb our consciousness and sense of well being.

Look at your mental, physical or emotional landscape from this perspective. For instance, if you wake up and if, for some reason, you are not feeling well or have an underlying, perhaps vague, uneasy feeling (as opposed to a “peaceful, easy feeling” as in The Eagles song), watch and see what happens next. For instance, from this dis-ease are you then mentally sluggish or do you have feelings of inertia? Is it difficult to actually do what might make you feel better? Or are you agitated and doubtful that you can or will feel better? Do you become careless and inattentive your actions? Are you then unmotivated, physically sluggish and heavy in body, heart and mind? And do you now begin to crave that which might temporarily—but not ultimately–make you feel better? And are you now seeing yourself as if in a carnival mirror, believing the distorted reflection to be an accurate reflection? And are you now completely unmotivated to change your perspective or vantage point and end up falling back, or backsliding into the valley of dull, deluded self-perception?

But how to wake up and embrace a peaceful, wakeful state of presence that will allow you to begin to listen, see, breath, be with, and perhaps delight in, whatever presents itself, no matter how undesirable it may be?

I have watched the aforementioned process in myself, sometimes in the order mentioned, sometimes not. But I have found that when I embrace, rather than deny, or fret, over the perceptions, sensations and feelings that I am actually experiencing, that there is a wonderful waking up to what is. And something unfolds within me.

In sutra 1.33 Patanjali mentions the friendliness, compassion, joy, and the ability to remain undisturbed whilst in the presence of pleasure and pain, virtue and vice, respectively.

I have found that when I am friendly and compassionate toward myself when presented with the above obstacles, I can begin to embrace them, to befriend them, and feel genuine compassion toward the one who is experiencing them. This embrace allows — gives permission even — for feelings of joy and sorrow to flow freely through my veins when these feelings present themselves. And it is sometimes even possible to experience some joy and amusement when I see and feel these “obstacles” emerging within me. They may be obstacles, but they need not be distractions. In fact, they are my friends as the obstacle becomes the remover of the obstacle when embraced fully.

Then there is other side, a positive side of what may seem to be an obstacle. Take doubt (samsaya) for instance. For me, embracing the doubts in my heart, when they arise, is a way of staying open and unknowing. I give myself permission to keep a little unknowing going, and to open the doors and windows of my being to something new and unexpected.

Tom, my husband and I were swimming together in the ocean one afternoon. I found myself genuinely surprised at seeing this familiar person, whom I know so well, look and seem so different out of context. Here was stable Tom, floating in the Atlantic, tossed about in the waves. I also perceived him from a similarly fluid perspective as I too was being tossed about in the water several feet away from him. It was an odd juxtaposition, this familiar being in an unfamiliar situation — my stable rock of a husband constantly moving to and fro. And here I was, also ebbing and flowing and seeing him from this seemingly unfamiliar and unstable perspective. Where we might normally perceive each other from a physically grounded place, connected to the solidity of the earth, we were now in an unstable, highly dynamic, ever changing, fluctuating sea. And yet there was stability. The stability came from our connection. The space between us became like a bridge or a rope, something that connected us in sea of change. And this stable space of connection was, like a rope or a bridge made of twine, stable because of it mobility. The connection was dynamic, alive, adaptable, stable and mobile all at the same time. We were in relationship to each other.

As people, we are always in relationship, within our own bodies and minds, with other beings and the environment that both surrounds and permeates us. We are able to stabilize and ground ourselves through relationship. In this sea of flux we are stabilized through relationships. We are able to navigate this flux with the stability that comes from the deep understanding that we are in relationship with ourselves, our environment, and other beings, with everything. And when this flux is accepted, like realizing that when in water it is best to float, to go with the movement and enjoy the ride, we find stability in the fact of the flux. We float and swim rather that fighting for a familiar footing where it doesn’t exist and perhaps sink as a consequence.

Going back to the waves in Del Ray. Tom looked so different in those waves. I was also “looking” from a fresh pair of eyes. The familiar and the unfamiliar, the known and unknown, stability and mobility, certainty and uncertainty came together simultaneously existing in relationship. And so it is with the practice of asana.

Poses can be like people, multifaceted, ever changing, and yet resonating on some mysterious and constant frequency that makes them, them. Take them out of context. By taking them out of context we are able to discriminate between what is contextual and unstable and what is true. This frequency or true stable essence slowly reveals itself over time, with the ever an ever-present witness deep within watching and listening. Listening carefully because the fequency with which a person, or even a pose, might be resonating might be something we have never seen, heard, or felt before. Or it may seem that way. It may be unfamiliar. It may be even be a little scary.

Try this:

Take a familiar pose and surround it with less familiar poses and vise-versa. Do a pose in a pool. Try tadasana on a not crowded moving subway train, (stay near a pole and be ready to take hold if necessary). And see how you have to change the familiar form of the pose because you are in a completely different set of relationships. This can be refreshing. It can awaken us to the fact of change and of relationship. And even when on your sticky mat, in a familiar environment, the given set of relationships is actually brand new and can be experienced as such if we awaken ourselves to the ever changing, fluid, unfolding (and yet stable) present.