Blog-up, Blog-down and other Adho-Mukh ups

Friday, August 01, 2008

"Pain" & disclosing tablets

OK, so yesterday I had my first proper session for a year. With anticipation I rolled out my mat outside feeling all warm and fuzzy, because whenever I put my mat out it feels like I'm creating a special space just for me, to work in. Kind of like that feeling that a long-suffering grandad gets when he escapes the house during his wife's weekly knitting convention for a bit of creative time in the shed at the bottom of the garden. Anyway, despite easing myself into the stretches and sun cycles gently, and ending the session with some beautiful chanting, I woke up this morning with rather an acute awareness of just about every muscle group in my body.

* Note: In an earlier blog post, I explained that, rather than use the word 'pain' to describe the sensations of muscles ironed-out by yoga, I use the term 'awareness'. Not because I'm some sort of masochist, but because pain isn't really descriptive enough and tends to be negative. I'm not denying that sometimes when we're a bit too enthusiastic or when we actually have some kind of physical 'limitation' whether it be temporary or long-term we can experience discomfort, but it's important to listen to exactly what that 'pain' is telling us. I'd argue that in the West, we've become so disconnected from our bodies, that we tend to interpret all discomfort as our bodies saying 'oh no no no no, don't do that again'. The thing is, while our ancestors might have been able to interpret the different types of pain and act accordingly, we tend to use it as an excuse, as a way of avoiding anything remotely more strenuous than watching 5 episodes of The Simpsons back-to-back. Pain, then, is best described as an awareness, because we are (afterall) living, breathing, complex organisms whose means of communication are far more complex than a simple 'yes/no' or good/bad' response- or even those stupid questionnaires you get in the High St. that ask you a question and by the time you've thought about your answer you've forgotten which of the many categories your response falls into. No, the 'pain' in yoga is definately better known as an awareness. Let me illustrate.

I woke up, I hurt. I moved every part of my body and discovered that everything apart from my toes, calves, face and neck was really achey. But, instead of seeing it as pain and drawing the inevitable conclusion that I had worked too hard/am unfit, I looked at the discomfort as awarenesses, and yielded the following: the awareness in my shoulders and upper back is the strongest...this makes sense because I know I have a lot of tension there, and after that session yesterday my shoulders felt so much freer and lighter, so it must have shifted some energy blockages... The awareness in my hamstrings and thighs is telling me that I worked them yesterday, but considering that I achieved so much with less effort than say, my shoulders, it tells me that they're in quite good shape...and so on.

See how much more effective it is? I also think it's more effective than those who say that there is 'good pain' and 'bad pain'. That expression is halfway there, but lets not forget the nuances of our body's awareness! There's also 'work this muscle group again tommorow' pain, and 'work this part of me less and that part of me more' pain as well as 'Jeez, you need an osteopath!' type pain.

So yeah, to my final analogy. This morning as I lay in bed, freshly awoken and throbbing with muscular awarenesses from yesterday's practice, I pondered. Yoga means to 'unite' and this whole idea fits in very well with my reflections, in particular being 'at one' with the physical body, and listening to its communications. Just as a dentist gives a disclosing tablet to a someone who needs awareness of where to brush their teeth more thoroughly, so does yoga give you an awareness of your own physical condition. The "awarenesses" I was experiencing were not only telling me where I'd worked and how hard, but they were giving me pointers for the future, making me aware of which bits needed more work and attention, and what my strengths and weaknesses are. I think this is also true of yoga practice in general- personally I find it very difficult to persevere with things that I find very physically challenging, especially when others can master those things easily. There's also a saying that rings true for me: 'it's better to do a little bit of something than an awful lot of nothing'. How true is that?!

What does yoga disclose about you?

Labels: ,

Neglecting yoga practice: excuses, excuses, excuses!

So. I haven't done any regular yoga practice for A WHOLE YEAR.

But I got excuses! Wanna here them?

I moved house so...
1. I left my yoga class
2. I got stressed
3. I was struggling with personal issues
4. I started a new college and had less time for yoga
5. It was harder to motivate myself when I was
a) tired from college
b) had less time to do yoga because of college
c) people at college thought I might be a Hare Krishna-i.e. yoga was NOT a shared interest with fellow students.

Yeah, yeah, yeah we've all done it. Excuses are beguiling flaws in human logic that sneakily convince us that the sophisticated evolutionary processes of the human brain weren't wasted on us: we're all the more clever because not only can we fool others, but also fool ourselves. However, I don't think any of us really need Tony Robbins or the Barefoot Doctor, or even Derek Evans in his spangly ultra tight lycra to encourage us away from making excuses and back into regular practice. And this is what makes procrastination all the worse- it makes us squirm because WE KNOW WE SHOULD BE GETTING OUR ASANA BACK ON THE MAT!

As a deserter, I acknowledge that somehow I let the regular and sustained practice that I built up over 2 years slowly melt away into excuses and "cunning" ploys of procrastination. During the past year I'd say that I've had a proper yoga session about twice, plus a few half-hearted 'oooh, I could do with a bit of a stretch' type events which lacked control and focus. However, I have recently felt Patanjali calling to me across the ages (It's OK, I've ruled Shizophrenia out) and the urge to throw myself into some kick-asana postures again. The decision became conscious at my best friends' wedding at which I suddenly had a renewal of awareness of what it was to be whole. This awareness crept into my body as well as my mind, as my muscles, ligaments and sinews remembered what it felt like to be stretched and pumelled by yoga postures. It was weird in a way- yoga is exactly the type of thing that, no matter how long you've procrastinated and made excuses for abondoning it, the passion is such that as soon as someone else talks to you about it, you feel like an insider again and can't wait to rattle off a few marichyasanas just to see if it still gives you that curious twitch in your lower back. One thing that really struck me, was the way that it's just like learning to play a musical instrument: it's a hobby as well as a talent and a flair, and I love the idea of reclaiming it as an interest; one that's always developing, progressing and teaching me things about myself. So...yesterday I rolled out my mat with glee, retrieved my block and practiced outside. Yup, I'm back in the game!

Labels: , , ,