This is the first of a series of blog entries about working with Toke Broni Strandby, a dance student at Northern School of Contemporary Dance currently in his 2nd year. He is Danish like me -a happy coincidence! I met Toke when I was invited to teach yoga at Northern and he was in my class. Toke only has one arm; to be precise, Toke's left arm stops around the elbow. In my yoga classes Toke was often excluded from exercises and postures, struggling to hold a downward, upward dog and unable to do anything involving interlaced fingers or binding.
I found myself asking how I could help Toke to get more out of the classes.
Toke Broni Strandby
Apart from the restriction of only having one arm, Toke was experiencing tightness in the hips, legs and back, making forward bends, twists and hip-opening challenging. I went home and thought that he was actually the student who might benefit most from a yoga practice! I approached him to meet up and work together on developing a personal practice for him to find ways of stretching tight muscles using postures that would accommodate his disability (this is the word that Toke himself uses).
Working in this untested way (at least for me) felt like an opportunity to trial some of my coaching methods as well. Would it be possible to develop this programme through coaching?
This is an excerpt of the initial email I sent him:
"(...) It is very important for me though, that it all comes from you. I'm really not interested in imposing any exercises or solutions on you. Therefore i suggest that we meet the first time just to chat and have some time for you to share thoughts on what you would like to focus on and for me to ask questions.
After that we can meet as many or as few times as we find useful -perhaps 2-4 times over the spring- and develop some ideas and test them out. I'm very interested in thinking about the process of all this and so if it's ok for you I would like to document it. "
In the next blog post about Toke I will reflect on what was discussed at our first meeting.
Are yoga and improvisation too diverse to be united as disciplines or are they two sides to the same coin? I want to try and find some common denominators for yoga and improvisation and explore why I so passionately practice yoga and at the same time love to do movement improvisation. At a first glance it just seems self-contradicting that two disciplines with such different formats can be so equally pleasing. Here are first my immediate thoughts -in random order- of what it gives me to practice yoga and improvisation:
Gleichzeitig 2, Yorkshire Dance 2008
There are some really obvious overlaps between the two disciplines such as getting my endorphin kicks and playing with the (im)possibilities of the body. Everything to do with the body is inherently about being in the present.
But there is also so much contrast between the two. Ashtanga yoga could not be any more disciplining and regimenting for body and mind where improvisation seems to be the complete opposite, exploring freedom and spontaneity of creativity and movement. Yoga is an internal practice. An internal exploration of time, energy and sensation. Improvisation is an external expression of movement and and an outwards exploration of time and space. Is it just that they satisfy different aspects of me or is there a link that I don't see?
If in doubt about how they may be different take a look here at Kino Macgregor counting the Sun Salutation B in an Ashtanga Yoga class and below a clip from 2008 West Coast Contact Improvisation Festival.
I have been practicing Ashtanga Yoga for about ten years and teaching it for four. The practice for me is a moving meditation and I achieve this meditative aspect through repetition and a very tangible, physical approach to yoga. Repeating the Sun Salutations and the standing sequence followed by seated postures and the finishing sequence has a certain predictability that I find very soothing and comforting. My fascination with the Ashtanga practice lies in the opportunity to keep investigating the postures. Over the years they become more familiar but I can practice them again and again and still find deeper aspects to explore. The challenge for me is to develop a graceful and smooth movement sequence synchronised with effortless breathing.
The Ashtanga practice gives me a frame work and the discipline to keep going. I’m not naturally disposed to be self-motivated so the set sequence makes it easier to stay on the mat. After committing to a full Ashtanga practice in self-practice classes (without skipping postures!), I found my confidence increase both on and off the mat. Being faced with some of the more extreme primary series postures had me avoid the full practice for a long time. I needed the sequence to confront me with what I found difficult and to not cop out every time I hit an obstacle. I absolutely love the practice now. It motivates me to keep challenging myself in so many aspects of my life.
I feel that by doing the same sequences and postures almost daily, I get to know my body, my reactions and my emotional state of being on a much deeper level. When I tune in to the practice and very subtle sensations in my body I can feel slight changes. A tight hamstring muscle might be softening; maintaining focus in a balance might have become easier; or perhaps the inhale in my back bends feels less restricted. The practice is never the same. The posture that feels great and easy one day might be an uphill struggle the next. In this way the repetitious practice becomes a barometer for my state of mind and can be a tool to balance my energy and mood. This is the beauty of the Ashtanga Yoga sequence.
Xmas Yoga Intensive:
With time to deepen the practice and look at more details of the sequence, me and my partner Alan O’leary will run Ashtanga Yoga workshops on the 27 and 28 December 2012 at Yoga Kula Leeds. See workshop page for more details.
I want to do some thinking about women and yoga. “The usual stuff,” you may be thinking, “about the moon and menstrual cycles and how women don’t have the same upper body strength as men?” No. I have deliberately decided to stay clear of the usual topics about women. I am all for talking openly about the menstrual cycle, pregnancy and the power of the womb, but frankly - I thought to myself - there must be other aspects to discuss when thinking about women and their yoga practice. In other words, I am interested in thinking about yoga in relation to women as a gender rather than as a sex.
It is a subject that has been on my mind for a while and although I have strong opinions about yoga in relation to women I am also very confused about what to think. I notice that I contradict myself a lot and have very mixed feelings about certain aspects of the subject: I want to be feminine and I want female role models but I don’t want yoga to be about gender. I feel that perhaps the female body is more prone to become sexualised and that women are more vulnerable as both yoga teachers and practitioners... Yet, I have no evidence that men don’t feel the same vulnerability.
To help me shed more light on this subject I asked three smart and self-assured female friends and yoga colleagues to give their personal account of being a woman practicing and teaching yoga. We are all in our 30’s, independent, have no children and make (some of) our living teaching yoga.
Kathinka Walter and Manuela Berndt
Angela Sykes and Marie Hallager Andersen
These are the three women plus myself:
Kathinka Walter: German choreographer and yoga teacher based in Leeds. She is currently writing her PhD on performance installation and improvisation whilst teaching choreography/improvisation at the Northern School of Contemporary Dance. She has been practicing yoga for nine and teaching it for five years. See Kathinka's website here.
Angela Sykes: Angela lives in Leeds. She’s a yoga teacher, yoga studio director, Massage Therapist and Vipassana meditator. She’s been practicing yoga for ten years and teaching it for five years. See Angela's website here.
Manuela Berndt: German choreographer and yoga teacher living in Berlin, where she opened Kalaa –art TO Yoga yoga in 2011 after years of being a choreographer in Leeds. Manuela still teaches dance and choreography but mainly runs her yoga studio in Prenzlauerberg/Berlin. She’s been practicing yoga for nine years and teaching for six. See Manuela's website here.
Marie Hallager Andersen: Danish, living in Leeds for ten years. Dancer, aerialist and improviser, life coach, yoga teacher and blogger!
I wanted the blog post to be about subjects that aren’t often discussed openly: the kind of things we think about but don’t necessarily say out loud. I decided to focus the debate by emailing questions about three topics:
MANUELA: To be honest I don’t feel surrounded by prominent and influential men in my everyday yoga world. In the West, women predominate in the yoga market as teachers, practitioners, entrepreneurs and customers and in my case all these roles come together. Coming from a professional dance background where, seemingly, females are a majority, but when it comes to jobs and opportunities they fall way behind men, in yoga I don’t feel we are competing.
KATHINKA: I will answer this question in regards to Ashtanga teachers, as it seems that within Ashtanga the imbalance between female and male teachers is more prominent. So far I have not worked with many female Ashtanga teachers due to more male teachers being present in Leeds and at other places I have practiced.
In contemporary dance the male choreographers dominate the scene despite a much higher number of female dance practitioners. I notice when I have a new group of students, there is a moment of joy when I see guys interested in dance. There are so few of them that I learn their names much quicker. This attention must boost their confidence, giving them an approach towards their dancing (yoga practice) with less fear of failing.
ANGELA: I did most of my intensive yoga training in India where yoga is most certainly male dominated so I have a few thoughts around this! I studied with (and came across) only one female yoga teacher in India. It was at this point that I noticed how lovely it is to study with a women’s supportive energy, she is a back bending teacher so the sessions were very very challenging but presented in such a gentle, supportive way that it made it feel easier in some ways! In contrast around the same time I also studied with a very tough male teacher who would often shout in our faces and try to ‘break us’ which at the time I rationalized that he was trying to bring my ego to the surface and see if I came back and if I didn’t then I was not ‘ready’ for the experience! I know this teacher is certainly not representative of male teachers and is the strongest contrast of experiences I have in terms of comparing the experience of male and female teachers! I feel in the West that yoga is actually a much more female dominated endeavour so I have never felt any lack of supportive feminine energy in the classroom setting.
KATHINKA: I differentiate between two types of (male) Ashtanga teachers - the very masculine ones that have a very harsh sometimes even military approach to teaching (and possibly their own practice) and the teacher who very much looks at the student’s needs and how to best accommodate them. The latter ones are the ones I work well with as they keep reminding me to keep a soft approach to my practice as I easily tend to challenge myself too much/let my ego of ‘wanting to achieve’ certain postures get in the way. I imagine that this could be the role for a female teacher to take – creating a calm atmosphere for my practice where I can still challenge myself physically but with a soft and insightful approach.
MANUELA: Thinking about my own role models I can’t pin it down to one person who has it all. In my practice and teaching I get inspired by friends, colleagues, teachers, students, YouTube, writers, male and female, Iyengar and Shiva Rea and many more. As an entrepreneur I look up to my accountant who is incredibly sharp and fast and as a yoga customer I am just as ridiculous as everyone else.
That said, I feel very strongly about Indra Devi who in the 1930s persistently persuaded Sri Krishnamarchaya to teach her, consequently becoming the first foreign yoga student and teacher in India. It was her, a woman, who in the 1940s brought yoga to the West and started adapting it to our bodies and lifestyle long before her fellow Mysore yogi Patthabi Jois set out to bring us the teachings of Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga. Indra Devi planted the seeds for what has become a wonderful mass movement: YOGA FOR ALL!
KATHINKA: Donna Farhi would be the one very high up on my list of role models. Unfortunately I have never met her but I really enjoy her writing. I find her insightful and intelligent (emotionally as well as mindfully) and her wise and thoughtful approach to yoga practice is very inspiring. Bringing yoga to life – the everyday practice of enlightening living (2004) is a book I highly recommend every yoga practitioner to read.
MARIE: As I said at the beginning of this post I’m not interested in reducing this discourse to a battle of biology but there is a social aspect of gender that has to be considered. A man can never completely understand, on an experiential level, what it means to be a woman. Expectations of women’s behaviour, role and looks are deeply ingrained in our culture. This is expressed through the etiquette we have to follow and in a yoga context, how to look and behave on a mat both as a teacher and as a student. When is the last time you saw a woman take off her top to expose her chest in a yoga class? The social expectations of genders spill in to the shala. I listen to my male gurus share their wealth of knowledge but there is an aspect of me, my upbringing and the social expectations of me as a woman that they can never grasp.
KATHINKA: In yoga I find myself – like in dance - in a male dominated environment. You have all these women practicing yoga and being yoga teachers but why is it that - and I tremendously generalise here - men find it so much easier to step forward and take the lead? Why am I mainly surrounded by male teachers? Why can I not name enough female role models? And in regards to what I said above [about privileging men in class], should we as yoga teachers take more responsibility in how we affect our female students’ confidence?
MANUELA: In my experience female yogis aren’t perceived as any less exciting, sexy and strong and apart from a few commercial ‘Yoga for men’ labels there doesn’t really appear much of a gender discourse in yoga. Yoga seems to be an area where people search for so called female attributes and where they are allowed and encouraged to do so, even though yoga was originally intended for men. Recent movies and documentaries such as Yogawoman celebrate the female leading the way and femininity is used as a marketing tool for all sorts of yoga products. Nevertheless, I can see why Marie who has mainly been practicing Ashtanga Yoga comes up with a question about male and female role models. Being constantly overwhelmed with the offerings of the Freemans, Paradises, Swensons, Scotts or Sweeneys, one does have to ask herself what this male star line-up is all about. And what do we need it for? (Actually I do have a poster of David Life in his skimpy knickers in my hallway.)
Ashtanga yoga and Vinyasa flow:
ANGELA: I teach several styles of yoga including Hatha Yoga, Yoga Flow and Ashtanga. I think more women are attracted to flowing and more gentle styles of yoga because generally they are less ‘performance’ focussed and more looking at how ‘connected’ they feel while practicing. Ashtanga requires strength and determination, which I feel most men would either like to have or already feel they have and can use this ‘skill set’ in the practice of Ashtanga. The Ashtanga practice is energetically very ‘yang’, which again is something men tend to be drawn towards. I also feel that the set sequence of Ashtanga suits men as there is a start, middle and end offering a sense of ‘completion’.
MARIE: I practice Ashtanga and teach Ashtanga - mainly. The practice for me is a moving meditation and I achieve this meditative aspect through repetition and a very tangible, physical approach to yoga. In addition, Ashtanga Yoga has many similar positions to the dance technique I was introduced to at college. It works on the same combination of strength and flexibility, but in my opinion with the added forgiveness and kindness to the body that I never experienced as a dance student. I think this strongly influences my own practice and also how I approach teaching yoga.
MANUELA: I practice and teach Vinyasa Flow because I like the freedom and creativity of it. I have practiced Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga in the past and still do so occasionally. Personally I don’t like the idea of sticking with one fixed series and being told when to proceed to learn the next asana. Asana practice is so rich and manifold that I would completely lose out getting stuck on Marichiasana D for months or years. This way of learning and teaching also seems extremely ambitious to me, always focusing on achieving or dominating an asana and I guess this bores me and after 20 years of ballet training, I don’t need to put myself through this anymore. Nevertheless, I can see how the routine and discipline of the series do lead to deep understanding and progress and certain practitioners, men and women, are looking exactly for this.
KATHINKA: Vinyasa Flow requires the student to follow the teacher, as there is no set sequence. Students have to adjust to changes and take in much information at once. Apart from men being attracted to the physicality of Ashtanga I wonder if another reason might be that they struggle with someone else taking the lead and not being in control. The number of men in Mysore classes compared to led classes speaks for itself. As mentioned earlier the presence of male Ashtanga teachers is definitely another reason that attracts men to Ashtanga yoga. It gives them a male role model for their yoga practice on the mat and in life.
ANGELA: I feel as a woman myself that I am more interested in connecting to myself and nature as practice. I do not push myself to the edge, as I know this is not the right way for me to practice yoga. To me yoga is a spiritual endeavour and I work harder on the inside, what happens to the physical body happens as a by-product of the work I am doing inside.
MANUELA: There are certainly more women than men in my classes but I think that is the case in all yoga styles and has started to shift anyway. I also don’t believe that men are less attracted to Vinyasa Flow than to Ashtanga because I can’t see why it should be any more girly and softer. In a Vinyasa Flow class I get to offer challenges you don’t necessarily find in the Primary Series such as Double Dips (reversing vinyasas), half bound Ardha Chandrasana, Pincha Mayurasana and so on. Don’t get me wrong, I think that Ashtanga Yoga is incredibly challenging and physical but so is Vinyasa Flow, we only play with order and variety. So why should Vinyasa Flow be less interesting for men? It can’t be the music, everyone loves music and there are many women who opt for practising without it, too. It is also a myth that men don’t suit the bound and flowy movement style. In my classes I observe all sorts, it’s like a dance floor with many different types, male and female, taking their own approach and pathway to yoga.
ANGELA: I think you can approach any style of yoga in many different ways. However, it is what is in the practitioner’s mind/body/spirit, which manifests into the practice. I love Ashtanga, Hatha and Yoga Flow and choose to approach them in a way that suits my body and mind generally and in the moment I’m practicing. The thing that I work the hardest at, is trying to unpeel the ego and this means that I do often need to back off, slow down and really listen to what’s going on inside.
MARIE: If my preconceived notion about Vinyasa Flow classes [described above] reflects what the average person new to yoga thinks, it’s no wonder that men are likely to shy away from them. It doesn’t exactly match with a masculine and buff self image to go to a flow class that has a reputation of being all about softness, chanting and ancient spirituality! No wonder (perhaps) some men opt for the Ashtanga class! At least there you can be allowed to huff and puff and sweat while learning to do fancy handstands - another common prejudice I believe some people have! Of course, neither preconception is accurate. I think it’s more down to individual teachers’ approach - gender and yoga styles aside!
KATHINKA: I have to admit that I struggle with this question and the focus on my appearance as a teacher. Only recently have I started wearing leggings and tight tops so that each posture/movement becomes more visible to the students to help them understand its alignment. I do not think too much about my appearance as a teacher - and actually do not want to. Especially when giving adjustments.
MARIE: I try and dress appropriately when I teach yoga. By appropriate I mean tight fitting clothes to show the contour of my body but not too short or revealing. I think it’s important to show students the result of years of practicing and also it makes it easier when I demonstrate. For me it’s a fine line between wanting to be confident with my femininity but not making the yoga practice about gender. Some students will identify with their teachers and I feel it’s an important role to first of all be a knowledgeable and compassionate teacher but also to be woman.
MANUELA: I do think about how I present myself when I teach but only a little bit and especially in some Berlin city studios I might come across as under-dressed without the Lululemons [yoga gear brand]. Some students (male and female) even get them before their first yoga class paying the amount of a block of ten classes or the teacher’s fee for three yoga sessions. I do wear high street leggings and T-shirts and practice Sauca as much as my time and discipline allow. I used to work at a studio where at some point I had a few male students with difficulties to focus on their Drishti, which made me feel very uncomfortable and I started wearing baggies for a while. Now I don’t work there anymore and apart from the occasional gaze I am again pretty unaware of my body image whilst teaching.
ANGELA: When I practice and teach I dress modestly (cover legs, stomach and chest) and this feels better for me and for my practice. I do however make sure that students can see the shape of my body so I tend to wear quite close fitting yoga wear. I feel it is very distracting when people get into how they look during the practice and I’m never happy when I see mirrors in a yoga studio! This is one reason I am not too keen on the Bikram method as students are encouraged to turn outward by looking in the mirror at the physical shape rather than feeling the body from the inside and become skilled at ‘knowing’ what is placed where and by ‘feeling’ and looking ‘in’ rather than looking out.
KATHINKA: Having a regular Ashtanga practice my body is quite muscular and less curvy. However, as this is not very different to the effect of dancing (especially with a strong dance technique), I have not noticed a big difference since I have started practicing Ashtanga.
MARIE: I have always had a minor complex about my shoulders being too wide in comparison to my relatively narrow hips! I’m not sure how I feel about this. I’m very happy to be kept fit and strong through the practice of yoga but have honestly sometimes thought of scaling down to avoid a too-androgynous look. It’s important to me to appear womanly. I don’t know if it’s possible to do third series and still have a figure like Scarlett Johansson. I have yet to see evidence for this.
ANGELA: My body feels so much better since I started yoga and this is the thing that I notice so much more than what it looks like physically! I am aware however that yoga has changed the way my body appears, I am much more toned than before. I used to be heavier and yoga definitely makes it easier for me to stay slim and not really have to think about it too much. I do try however not to be over involved in how my body looks as I feel drained by how fixated we are on external appearances and do not like to value myself on something that is limited by time and space and isn’t even really me! I feel nourished when I see people on a deeper level and I am seen on a deeper level, there is nothing more fulfilling than being seen for you really are inside.
MANUELA: Of course yoga changes the body as any physical exercise does. It even creates a very aesthetically toned physique and more so if it goes hand in hand with a yogic lifestyle in terms of vegetarianism or veganism, modest consumption of alcohol, nicotine, sugar and coffee and a good night’s sleep. Who isn’t conscious of this? Most people take up yoga to lose weight and get fitter in the first place. Coming from a dance background I have been conscious of my physical appearance and shaping almost all my life. With yoga my bi- and triceps have developed more than with my previous training and I think that’s about it...on the outside. I’m not going to go into what yoga does on the inside because this is not the question here.
ANGELA: My body is not really me even though it is important to keep it healthy so I can live life fully and happily, make a living for myself and help others. It is not who I am and is therefore not something I want to dedicate too much of my time to, there is so much more I can learn from looking in.
KATHINKA: When you enter the yoga studio the body becomes asexual, a tool you work with to get closer to stillness. Any other way would not be appropriate for me. I want my students to feel safe and comfortable – not having to worry about their appearance but being able to focus inwards. The same applies to my own practice. I do like that my awareness of myself becomes asexual - sensing my body from within, following the breath and connecting with the inner self without judgement or need for identity. The best practice is the one where I can truly draw my focus into my body and separate the self from I, me and mine, connecting with the self that lies deeper inside, un-labelled by the mind.
MARIE: When I look at the women where I practice Mysore they typically fall in to the same body type category. Lean and athletic. In my experience men with an extra pound around the belly will still master the practice. They seem to have a more pronounced ‘can-do’ approach to the practice where women with a few curves have a less head-on attitude. Is that a female trait or lack of encouragement/belief from teachers? I once overheard a teacher kindly but honestly tell a male student that he couldn’t bind in Marychasana D because he was carrying too much weight around the belly. Could you have said the same thing to a woman?
Here ends the responses we gave to the questions. Thank you so much to Kathinka, Angela and Manuela for their honest and interesting contributions to the post. Manuela gets the last word:
MANUELA: Now the next thing on the agenda must be to discuss pay and social status of yoga teachers, how we live and how we might be perceived as professionals.
I'm happy that you raise this issue, Manu, I couldn’t agree more. One thing is talking about status between genders within our little yoga world. But how do we perceive ourselves in the bigger scheme of things when it comes to such un-yogic subjects of money, social status and fame? And how do we think others see us?
Stay tuned for more...
Angela Sykes of Yoga Kula Leeds asked me and my partner Alan to blog about our experience of the Richard Freeman workshop that the three of us recently attended at Yoga Campus in London. I decided I’d set up the blog post as a conversation between Alan and myself (though I get the last word!). Knowing that myself and Alan had different experiences of the workshop I thought I’d let our respective opinions stand for themselves. I hope that, in that way, we have avoided 'couple syndrome' by not throwing our distinct viewpoints onto one big pile…
Additionally I was more interested in presenting the conversation as an informal chat between two lovers of Ashtanga Yoga and their experience of doing the workshop rather than a discussion about the content of it. There are plenty of clever and interesting people out there who are already doing that! Alan is himself a long term Ashtanga practitioner and teacher. He has blogged about Ashtanga before in two posts about Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga and self-practice and teacher adjustments based on talks given at Yoga Space in Leeds and Camyoga in Cambridge.
· What attracted you to do the Freeman workshop in the first place?
MARIE: Well, Richard Freeman is an iconic name in the world of Ashtanga Yoga. His name pops up everywhere. I guess I wanted to meet the man for myself and make my own impression of him. His DVDs of the primary and intermediate series had me gaping with awe. Here was clearly someone who had mastered the practice in all its aspects. Would I be able to tell just by looking at him?? Would he look enlightened and if so, what does that look like?
Also -and perhaps more importantly- I found his book The Mirror of Yoga very inspiring. It had a deep impact on me. His approach to yoga in this book is very non-dogmatic. Yoga is yoga. Who cares what word we add in front to specify what yoga style we define ourselves with. The Mirror of Yoga is a poetic and beautifully written book gathering together the essence of the great yogic texts and shedding light on how these in combination with the practice that can inform our daily lives. One of my favorite passages at the moment:
"We may see it (the body) as a bag of skin filled with bones and blood or as a continuum of suffocating, painful frustration used to validate all of the miserable opinions we have of others and ourselves. Our focus might be on just one part of the body –the image of our face, or the belly, the thighs, the nervous system, the musculature- to the exclusion of all other aspects. Through a consistent yoga practice, all the different notions we may concoct about what the body is and who we are eventually arise as objects for our meditation. […] We are able to look through the deep emotions and patterns that make up our subjective awareness, and we also see through those parts of ourselves that we have objectified and have identified as the body itself. We see that the ideas of skin, bones, organs and all that we know to be the physical body are actually just the culturally agreed-upon forms that we have identified in order to comprehend the arising of the particular pattern of manifestation we call ‘humans’." p. 12
ALAN: I haven’t read The Mirror of Yoga, and my reasons for wanting to do the workshop were a little more ‘instrumental’. Richard Freeman has the reputation of being one of the masters of Ashtanga Yoga, and this seems to be confirmed by the elegance and ease of his practice in the DVDs you mention. I’ve also seen YouTube and other clips of him training with Pattabhi Jois, and he has the kind of practice that I can’t aspire to but, in an ideal incarnation, would like to have. At least two of my teachers have trained with him over the years and both spoke of him as incredibly knowledgeable. So I wanted to access some of that knowledge – in fact I applied to do his teacher training in Boulder last year. I wasn’t accepted and one of the reasons given was that I hadn’t ever studied with Richard, so my attendance at the London workshop was a further step towards maybe getting accepted onto the month-long teacher-training course in Colorado.
· What were your expectations of the workshop?
MARIE: I really hoped to be inspired for my own practice and for teaching. Sometimes all you need is to look at your practice from a different angle or hear it explained with different words to feel that it comes back to life. I was hoping to learn new approaches to postures.
I wanted to meet the man who wrote The Mirror of Yoga. A man with such a selfless and giving approach to yoga would have to be awe-inspiring and amazing. I wanted to know more about what he was talking about in the book. Why do we do yoga?? What’s it all for? Stuff like that…
ALAN: I don’t think about classes or workshops in advance once I’ve signed up. I prefer not to have expectations – at least conscious expectations. I realized once the workshop started that I had some very strong unconscious expectations that were destined to be unsatisfied, perhaps in a salutary way...
· What did you like about him/his teaching?
MARIE: He was very tall and had wonderful posture. Didn’t look a day past 60 and could have gone for a 40 yer-old from a distance. Only the minor furrows in his face and his look of wisdom gave him away. In the few demonstrations he did I felt I got a little glimpse of his past grandeur as a yoga practitioner. He still had the strength and ease in the postures. He spoke slowly and took his time. Didn’t feel he was out to impress anyone. Guess he didn’t need to. There was a gentleness about him, a softness in his voice and kind eyes. But then he also shared a few sharp opinions about the practice, Mysore, the ‘keen’ and slightly dogmatic Ashtangis and their way of going about the practice. He was clearly over the whole ‘ambitiousness’ of Ashtanga yoga and, although he taught it according to the tradition, the influence of Iyengar and ‘holding the postures for longer’ were very present.
ALAN: Was he tall? He is certainly physically remarkable and has great presence, accentuated by impressive eyebrows that do indeed bespeak fidelity to Iyengar. The strength and youthfulness of his body suggested to me that his ‘grandeur’ as a yoga practitioner is very much in the present, even if he was restraining himself in the context of the workshop, showing by example that the sessions were about going deeper rather than forward in the practice. Yes, his voice was calm, but I found him to be surprisingly opinionated and not slow to pass judgment. He was very articulate, impressively well informed and forthrightly intelligent; he had great precision in his language and a practiced facility with illustrative metaphor. He was a bit of an actor, and I was surprised at the extent to which the workshop centred on him, so that even the morning postural sessions became a little static or stop/start as he developed points or dealt with questions at unexpected length. As a result, I found the sessions a little frustrating; I felt we didn’t cover enough. However, what we did cover, we covered in great detail (impossible to take it all in, in fact) and I have integrated several aspects of his approach and many specific tips into my daily practice, especially about drishti. I agree that holding the postures for longer was useful and revealing, and seemed to confirm the therapeutic effects of taking more and slower breaths in each posture: it helped a knee injury I’m working with, for example.
MARIE: In fact you're right. He wasn't tall, it was simply his poise and gracious walk that made him appear grander. And perhaps the eyebrows added a few years to his age too!
· What aspect of what he said/did challenged your practice and your approach to yoga?
MARIE: I thought he had some beautiful imagery when he was explaining postures. For Downward Dog he kept referring to: ‘the four angels that hold on to each corner of your pelvis, the two sit bones, pubic bone and tailbone and fly in to the sky where they will meet somewhere in eternity’. Other ones were less poetic: ‘Bend forward in to Uttansana as if you were vomiting out of the top of your head.’ Nice.
I was very challenged with the 15-20 breaths in each asana. It made me realise that I don’t stay long enough in each posture. That extra minute really stretches your stamina.
ALAN: I found the amount of information he shared intimidating: I felt after one of the sessions that I could never teach postural practice again because he had mentioned so many potential long-term dangers (this posture, practiced wrong, damaged your hips; that posture, practiced wrong, damaged your neck, and so on). Of course, this sort of information is essential, and is a necessary corrective to far too much discourse in the Ashtanga tradition that asserts the benefits of Ashtanga in vague and dogmatic ways. On the other hand, I recognized a certain tone from Iyengar classes, where if you don’t do the posture ‘just so’ you’re heading straight to yoga hell with just a brief and painful stopover at A&E. For me, yoga is also play and fun; it’s a way of staying child-like as we age. Maybe I missed a sense of that in the sessions (it has to be said that Richard didn’t seem to have a high opinion of children). But the main lesson of the workshop for me was one of awareness, and this core concept informed everything he said and taught us, I think: the attention to anatomical and technical detail; the longer time spent in the postures; the insistence on precision in drishti; the injunction to take the practice inwards rather than forwards. ‘Practice with greater awareness’: this is the challenge I took from the workshop.
MARIE: The posture practice and the amount of information given for the asanas were for sure a testament to his profound embodied knowledge of the practice. I didn’t feel intimidated or overwhelmed with information though. For someone with Richard’s experience I’m sure you’ve seen a lot of yogis overdo the practice in order to ‘achieve’ and personally I think this was what he was trying to address. His restrained demonstrations were evidence of his intention to go deeper rather than forward and also an invitation for the keen Ashtangis to turn down the ambition in order to avoid injuries and strain. I agree that Ashtanga often lacks precision in its explanation of postures and I do think this can lead to damage and injury when postures are not done thoughtfully. In the Western world we often advance at something as if we were to conquer it. A bit of ‘Iyengar alignment’ thrown in the mix I find helpful both for my own practice and as a teacher. Especially if you can ignore the ‘just so’ you refer to. And perhaps some statements are to be taken with a pinch of salt!
Richard Freeman in Tittibhasana, then and now
· What did you (not) like about his afternoon sessions?
MARIE: The afternoons were… challenging. They were based on the Bhagavad Gita and its importance in the yogic tradition and its relevance to our present practice. Richard had clearly already done some thinking about the Bhagavad Gita! As I hadn’t spent enough time studying the story of Arjuna’s journey (alright I only read the introduction!), following his thought process was hard. He often veered off in directions where I felt left behind.
ALAN: Okay, here’s where I have to make an admission. I went to the first afternoon session, and skipped the other four. The period around the workshop was very busy for me: I had a large project to finish, and felt that my afternoons were better spent getting that project done. I had been prepared to do the Gita sessions despite my other commitments, but I have to admit that the first session didn’t persuade me of their unmissable usefulness. This has two aspects: the first is to do with Richard’s pedagogic approach; the second is to do with the broader question of the relationship between classical Indian philosophy and the modern postural practice.
The teaching model employed in the afternoon sessions (and to some extent in the mornings) was that of the students seated at the feet of the Guru hoping to imbibe some of his erudition. I’ve experienced this before, at the AYRI in Mysore in the Friday evening ‘conferences’ when Pattabhi Jois took questions from the students; I’ve also seen it in documentary films about spiritual/philosophical quests in India, when an audience gathers round the Guru and he invites questions. The question determines the Guru’s discourse (or suggests it, at least), and there is, inevitably, a certain random quality to the content of any given session, with the Guru’s answers varying in length and intelligibility. I think the assumption is that the student will be around long enough (weeks, months, years) to hear all s/he needs to hear and individual sessions are less important than the cumulative effect of exposure to the Guru’s wisdom; I’m less certain the model works over a limited number of sessions when a specific topic (e.g., the Gita) is to be investigated.
But perhaps my ‘resistance’ was due to something other than suspicion of the pedagogical method; maybe it was more to do with the relationship being assumed between the morning postural work and the topic of the afternoon sessions, the Bhagavad Gita. Don’t get me wrong, the Indian tradition of ethical thought is incredibly rich, and despite many internal contradictions, has much to teach us about how to live well. However, I am just not persuaded of the essential relationship of this tradition of thought to modern postural practice. Modern postural practice (which of course includes pranayama and aspects of meditation) is complete and satisfying in its own terms (so it seems to me, anyway, after fifteen or so years of practice): it doesn't require the external validation of an ancient tradition. As Mark Singleton has shown in his book Yoga Body (Oxford, 2010), modern postural practice was born, and has developed, in very specific historical circumstances, and it does not have to be yoked to the ‘eight limbs’ of Patanjali’s system or to any other aspect of the classical tradition in order to be experienced as (in)valuable. Maybe I’m swimming against the tide here: more and more postural classes begin with readings from classic or contemporary texts (e.g., the Yoga Sutras, The Mirror of Yoga or the works of Michael Stone), and some franchised systems like Jivamukti market themselves as spiritual workouts that keep the punter’s rump taut. But I can’t help feeling the growing popularity of the philosophical or spiritual aspect is partly down to a need felt by some to distinguish themselves from the common yoga horde: ‘you’ just do gymnastics (mere postures), whereas ‘I’ am a spiritual person steeped in the Sutras, even if actually we both spend much of our time trying to get our heels to the floor in Downward Dog and trying not to wobble in Uttita Hasta Padangustasana. Me, I’m just one of the common horde of would-be gymnasts I’m afraid, and so I had to skip the afternoons at the workshop.
MARIE: I’m afraid I’ll have to respond to this. I admit I feel I’m walking on eggshells here a bit, but as we know Alan, you like to dance around on eggshells so I will attempt to join you there. I made the point myself as I was teaching the other day that if you don’t practice yoga with awareness through breath, you might as well go to the gym. And I feel strongly about this. So when you say you’re one of the would-be gymnasts I think you’re exaggerating (or playing the devil's advocate). I’d be surprised if you’ve stuck with the practice for fifteen years if all you wanted was a good workout and the ability to touch your toes (or in your case interlacing your toes behind your head!). You would very quickly get bored with the Downward Dog and Uttita Hasta if your only aim was to go forward without ever going deep. What I believe we get from the yoga texts (and yes, I agree I find more inspiration in The Mirror of Yoga than the Bhagavad Gita) is the ability to see the body for what it is -‘skin filled with bones and blood’- , but also as a container for our emotions and our primary experience of the world. Working with the body is way of processing experiences and many texts like the Yoga Sutras become a ‘Wikipedia’ of those processes. What I mean is that they provide an explanation or translation of the bodily sensations we experience in our asana or meditation practice. When your practice deepens, it can be helpful to have a resource (like the Yoga Sutras or Bhagavd Gita) to link the sensations to an understanding of ourselves and our function in the world by explaining what we experience. Personally I feel I have gained more clarity and motivation to do my yoga practice and to be compassionate towards myself and others through studying these texts.
Having said that I realise I slightly contradict myself having proclaimed how I was struggling to follow his train of thought in his philosophical monologues. Does Richard Freeman see a direct correlation between the asana practice and the classical texts? If he managed to bridge the asana practice with the Bhagavad Gita in a way that made it all come together during the conferences I sadly missed it. I guess I have made my own little rationale about this question but it sure would have been nice to hear what Richard Freeman thought!!
Yoga, improvisation and coaching connect like a web for me. Links arise between practices, as components interweave between them, overlapping and appearing in new places. My task at the moment is finding head and tail in this and beginning to understand how the philosophy of the three practices can fuse in to one holistic hybrid. When I look at the spider diagram I see an invisible spiral emerge, starting from the middle with the Intelligent Body at the core and then moving in a circular motion away from the core passing through each component of my practice:
Meditative flow of practising Ashtanga Yoga
the free and expressive movement of improvisation
how does this connect??
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