Yoga magic

The choreography of a group yoga class is always a dance between the instructions of the teacher, the harmony of the group, and the needs of the individuals. I often introduce a bit of ‘controlled chaos’ in my class — aka offering variations, modifications and alternatives, especially if we get anywhere near a ‘peak pose’. One such point today where students were variously exploring squat, tree or bird of paradise. It was beautiful to watch. Even more so when my view included the pregnant student leaning her tree against the wall, the student in child’s pose and another resting lying down on her side.

Such is the privileged view of a teacher. I am the one controlling the chaos. Which is no chaos at all of course; it’s carefully planned, even though I might introduce it lightly, almost playfully, within the class, as I see jaws tensing in concentration and some physical tiredness building up. I believe they need some freedom and time to explore how they might move themselves, rather than always following a set of instructions. Yoga always moves us after all. If there is any magic in it, it’s that I always feel better after my practice. It doesn’t matter what I do really or for how long, I am always subtly transformed. Some practices might be ‘better’ than others, and there might be some crying jags or emotional blips within the practice time, but I feel more complete by the end. I bring myself to completion, perhaps I should say.

Because I am learning that yoga is not in fact magic, it is a set of tools that I can use for my own benefit, to shift my state a little or a lot, just enough to get through quotidian stresses or a whole lot more to help me weather the more seismic disruptions that crop up through life. I used to feel that yoga was in control and I was just helplessly swept along by its power. Now it doesn’t feel so much like that. For which I am grateful (and a tiny bit nostalgic perhaps!).

Truly I feel grateful each day that I have these practices and I am learning better how to use them. I often find myself wondering how other people manage without yoga, but I hope that they have their own beneficial ways and practices whatever they might look like. Not just coping mechanisms but life-enriching, enlightening and en-brightening things!

A friend asked me for help today as she was clearly out of ideas from her own toolkit. She’s stuck in a rumination pattern of self-recrimination and regret. It’s not a big thing as she described it, but it is to her. She asked me my advice on how to get out of this. What a great question, especially as I am in something of the same pattern myself at the moment. Broken sleep, dreams inhabited by someone I feel poorly treated by, a cycle of thoughts about how I might have done more, or less, or differently, or maybe they should have…

I talked about how it might help to get out of the thinking mind and into some space of self-compassion and the process for trying this. How to soothe and comfort the body so it could begin to feel ‘heard’, and how to begin to tenderly listen to it and notice the emotions within the physical body. The need to feel all the discomfort and pain, the regret and frustration, and then the moment arrives when it’s possible to soften this with some self-love and forgiveness, just as she might soothe her infant daughters when they are distressed, hearing their childish concerns, allowing their anxieties to spill out, even as they allow themselves then to be comforted and reassured. For me this happens through a formal practice of physical movement, pranayama and meditation; but it might also take the form of more mundane self-care practices of bathing, keeping warm, fed and rested and so on. These rituals are familiar to me, but not easy to explain. And not over a lunchtime in the workplace for sure!

So I hope she can translate this into something for herself.

And I hope I can translate this back into something for myself too. I need to walk the walk, not just talk the talk.