Sunday, April 29, 2012

Kicking my asana

It’s hard to believe that it has already been two weeks since my last post and three since my course started.  As my title suggests, my time in Dharmshala has been intense!

I’m studying to become a certified Vinyasa Flow teacher.  This means that for six days a week, between the hours of 7am and 7pm I am engaged in some form of yoga practice: breathing (pranayama), posture classes like the Ashtanga Primary Series (asana), anatomy, chanting and philosophy.  During the breaks in between classes I’m usually either eating something with too high a sugar content (sigh) or attempting to organize my notes in a pretty blue tome that I’ve purchased for that purpose.  Then it’s dinner, a little more note review and bed.

As a consequence I have had little time to explore McLeod Ganj and the neighbouring cities in the valley.  For the most part, my understanding of the city revolves around where my next meal will take place.   Hopefully when the course finishes I’ll be able to fill in some of the many gaps, and maybe even write about it.

In the meantime, let me share with you a bit about what I have been experiencing: yoga and people.  I start my philosophy class on Tuesday, but as a preliminary, beyond some supple bodies in spandex, yoga is a way of life.  An eightfold path, the asana classes that are punishing my body are only one part of a series of practices that are aimed at controlling and stilling one’s mind.  In fact, asana is only stage three on this path, so it’s fitting that the other concept that I can relate my current experiences to is an aspect of the second step, niyama, which sets out certain disciplines to govern our actions and our attitude towards ourselves.

Much of my free time is spent either with others in my class or with people who are attending our morning Ashtanga or evening Hatha classes.  We talk about our lives, relationships and work experiences and through that I’ve been exposed to more alternative ways of living than at any other point in my life.  How so? Well first of all, I’m one of the easiest people to characterize: “former lawyer”.  That can be said in a sentence and well understood.  Most people knew ‘my deal’ in the first week.  But what everyone else does ‘for a living’ has tended to come out more slowly, over the course of many conversations.  Why? because very few of the people are doing things that fit easily into a category.  In fact, I would say that most of them are mainly occupied with ‘living’, as opposed to ‘doing’.

Let me explain.  Almost everyone I’ve met and spent time with ‘works’ between four and six months of a year.  They build stadium roofs, herd cows and make cheese, do farm labour and so on.  Then they take the rest of the year to follow their own pursuits: yoga, travel, religious study, you name it.  Those that ‘work’ full time do many things – create art, design hats, coach others through transitions and practice alternative healing.  Most of these combinations of pursuits have never occurred to me.   But for those who have undertaken them, they work.  The freedom they’ve chosen in exchange for a category is a trade they are happy to have made, and in that happiness they reflect contentment with their lives and where they are at.

Reading one of my books today, I came across santosha, the second of the niyamas that I refer to above, and my encounters with these new friends came to mind.  From my limited understanding, santosha means something along the lines of being satisfied with what one has, or put another way, not requiring more than one has to achieve contentment.  I have been striving for this for a long time.  My exposure to so many alternative ways of being reminded me that this is part of what underlies my impulse to try on new lives and experiences – to learn of the ways that others arrive at this point of contentment and apply this knowledge to my personal quest.  As we move beyond breathing and postures this week and learn about the deeper philosophy of yoga, I know that I will necessarily begin to shift my attention inward.  But I am glad that in the weeks that preceded this, I have once again had my eyes opened. 


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