How to Grow a Yoga Practice
Last week, a student asked me: How do I take my practice to the next level?
The answer was easy: find a teacher.
Now, I don’t profess to be anyone’s actual teacher – more like a coach. After all, my gigs are only once a week. Still, for the most part, I do enjoy the same people coming Saturday after Saturday – which I love! Why? Because I have a chance to get to know them.
In a practice that is so intimate at times and asks a student to be so vulnerable – trust and understanding is one of the greatest gifts within the relationship. And this can only be developed over time.
Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing new faces and welcoming new students to my class. But what I love even more when the newness fades and familiarity takes over. That’s when we can really start to work together.
My primary Ashtanga teacher will be here next week and I couldn’t be more excited. I’ll never forget my first experience with him …
I had only ever practiced the half primary sequence. I still really enjoyed lots of other yoga styles and wasn’t so sure I was ready to settle on what seemed like a stodgy way of practicing – so half primary was really plenty for me. But I was encouraged by some friends to come to his Mysore week and so I did.
On day three of that Mysore week, he offered me more toys postures to play work with. He knew I practiced other styles yet chose not to “chastise” me or hold me back. Instead, he recognized an earnestness about me and decided to feed it instead.
So when he introduced me to a transition on day four that brought me into handstand from a floor posture. I had all but drank the kool-aid! Ashtanga wasn’t stodgy at all – this shit was FUN! And I wanted more …
My next level? A consistent morning practice. Check!
Disclaimer: there is no posture where handstand is the official transition in the primary series. And he never did it with me again. However, it only took once to get my attention.
Since then, I consider time with my teacher pretty sacred as we cover some serious ground. From facing a fear of drop backs and working past injuries, to forever challenging me by always giving me a little more than I think I can handle and then giving me the time to work on my own in between.
When I’m confused – I can ask. When I’m in doubt – he encourages. When I’m scared – he holds my hand. And when I’m almost there – he lets go.
The last time he was here, I was really struggling to make the bind in pasasana. And he was totally pissing me off because instead of putting me in the damn pose as had been done for the past few years, he would just call out from across the room, “That’s it Peg, you’re almost there.”
Two weeks later, after he’d already left – I could bind on my own. (Bastard – tricked again!)
OK – so note that most of the obstacles I’ve mentioned are NOT physical ones. Most of the physical stuff can be solved over time with consistent practice. If you want to run better, run more. If you want to swim faster, swim more. And if you want to have a better backbend, do backbends every day.
No. It’s the other stuff – the psychological and emotional baggage that is far more daunting. And that’s why you NEED a teacher you can trust – not just someone who can call out poses.
I won’t deny that this relationship can be developed more easily in the Mysore room, especially in the beginning. Because where else can you expect to find the same teacher, consistently, day after day, with that kind of skill, devotion and dedication?
But I won’t be so bold (or arrogant) to suggest this is the only place. Because good teachers are not confined to a room and certainly, not a style. The fact remains that if you want to learn – forget 200 hour programs and just find a teacher. If you want to grow – forget adding new poses and add a good teacher. And if you ARE a teacher – then for God’s sake, FIND A TEACHER. Find one who …
- Motivates you. Find someone who inspires you to be the best you can be … even if that means using the occasional trick.
- Connects with you. Funny, but this is the single best predictor to a student’s success in any kind of learning situation – having a teacher who you believe cares about you enough to make that connection.
- Respects you. A good teacher does not use humiliation to teach or reprimands to motivate. A good teacher understands that this relationship is a partnership and carefully listens without judgment.
- Supports you. New territory is a little scary. It’s nice to know you don’t have to go there alone. A good teacher makes exploration safe.
- Challenges you. And yet, there is a time the teacher must back away and let you do the final bit of work.
P.S. I’d love you to comment on your own experience either as a teacher or as a student. And if you have recommendations, feel free to name some names!
Want to read more about what makes a good teacher? Read Kino’s recent blog on the responsibility of being a good teacher.
jumpbacks: some assembly required
i remember the first time in ashtanga i saw someone do a seated jump back – i was truly mesmerized. later, that fascination became more a playful obsession.
today, it’s still a work in progress and although i hear no one gets “stopped” in the practice for not having mastered, it is just one of those things many of us still aspire to achieve.
anyway, yeah – there’s a certain skill set you need first: arm strength, core strength, and open hips. but that’s kind of all. it’s a myth about the short arms. i know because i’ve got ‘em. but if you can check off those three pre-requisites and are willing to work at it, here’s three tricks that helped me get over the hump:
momentum is your friend
start in a tight navasana position with arms straight in front of you and hands on mat.
inhale as you extend – the exhale will take you back.
for greater momentum, try extending the legs fully and then as you pull the legs in towards the body – counter swing the chest forward.
remember physics
kind of like a teeter totter is supported by a fulcrum at the center – so are you.
the fulcrum is your forearms and distance from the center matters. pulling everything in as close to the fulcrum/center as you can will make not only make balance easier, but it will require less strength as well.
my right leg is stronger, so i cross right ankle over left and pull that right heel into my body tight.
you also need to consider the mass on both sides. so as the hips go back and up – the chest must go forward and down. this can feel scary but trust the physics of it.
the landing
finally – stay low. in other words, land in chaturanga.
i watch way too many people try to land in high plank. for the average schmo, that’s just not possible – most of us simply don’t have the strength that would take to lift our hips high enough.
and frankly, i just don’t want to work that hard either.
the three things that will keep you from belly flopping? gaze forward and up, belly lifted, legs engaged.
here it is in action:
Yoga Rocks DC: 5/13 – 5/20
Catch the Rocket every Saturday (11 am) at Embrace Yoga DC!
Celebrate DC Yoga Week by visiting favorite studios across DC, VA and MD offering FREE and $5 classes!
You can simply visit all participating member studios to see their free and $5 class listings as well as any DC Yoga Week special sales and events.
(thanks to jonathan ewing for this awesome video. jonathan – YOU rock!)
The Perfect Yogi
I don’t have to think. I’m a Catholic.
The Perfect Family, stars Kathleen Turner as a woman who has just been nominated for Catholic Woman of the Year. To win, she must prove how devout she is by choosing between supporting her daughter’s gay marriage or the church’s stance against. Her daughter asks what SHE thinks is right and Kathleen’s character says she doesn’t because she’s a Catholic.
I guess my mom would never have been nominated for such an award – because unlike Kathleen Turner’s character, my mom is ALWAYS thinking. No one will ever accuse her of blind obedience. And by example, my mom taught me to do the same. To decide for myself, right from wrong.
She had a saying that religion was just a vehicle people used to get to God. Nothing more, nothing less. Our car was Catholic, but she said there were other cars that ran just as good, all trying to get to the same place. She never let me believe mine was better than anyone else’s.
“Don’t confuse the church for God, the two are not the same. God is who you follow – and God alone.”
Above all, she felt compassion was more important that being righteous. Consequently, my mom has always been kinder than she is Catholic.
In the end, the Catholic car wasn’t for me. So I grew up and traded in 7 sacraments for 7 series – with Mysore as the new Rome.
Turns out, however – blind obedience isn’t one of my stronger skill sets either.
That’s why it’s my mom, who never taught me a backbend or an inversion or knows a single sutra, who remains my inspiration and the greatest teacher I’ve ever had.
Thanks to her, I will never fool myself into believing Ashtanga is the one true way. I will choose compassion over being right. And kindness will always be my practice of choice.
My mom still calls herself Catholic but I know the truth.
My mom has been a TRUE yogi all along.
oatmeal banana bites
Yep. I’m at it again. Trying to do the “Vegan-Thing” – only 80% this time … and with the boys on board. (The latter being more the challenge)
And this morning, we’ve found a winner! Sweet enough for dessert and passable for a quick breakfast. Best yet, takes only 20 minutes with minimal kitchen mess.
oatmeal banana bites
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup oat flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8–1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup pureed (not mashed) overripe banana (roughly 2 large bananas)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 vegan chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350 F. In a mixing bowl, combine the oats, oat flour, baking powder, sea salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Stir through until well combined. Add the banana and vanilla (and chocolate chips, if using) to the dry mixture, and stir through until combined. Scoop mounds of the batter (about 2 to 2 1/2 tablespoons) on to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for 14 to 15 minutes, until set to the touch and a touch golden. Remove and let cool on pan for just a minute, then transfer to a cooling rack.
Makes 8 muffins
Recipe contributed by Dreena Burton of www.plantpoweredkitchen.com.
I almost quit ashtanga yoga
I’m realize I’m about to make no friends here by this disclosure, because even in changing my mind, I must first lay bare the parts that nearly sent me packing.
First off, any practice so goal-oriented, linear, and rule bound is apt to be challenging – if not, contest driven.
We practice at a certain time … have rigid rules and standards … and require mastery to further practice instead of the other way around.
Ashtanga is not for the faint hearted as we actually pride ourselves in a more rigorous, physical, and demanding practice. There is a high degree of athleticism inherent to the ashtanga method, which unavoidably leads to some level of competition – even if only within the student alone.
The ego is not only apparent but some might argue – it’s necessary.
What is correct method?
I’ll be the first to admit that ashtanga has brought a great deal of discipline into my life. It has left me more grounded, stronger, and definitely more humbled.
Problem is, as of late – I’m not sure it has offered me a great deal of kindness.
You see, I’ve followed the rules and abided the standards for quite some time now. I’ve experienced the resentment of being held back and the pride of being moved forward – then the admonition of feeling both. I have practiced through pain and rested with guilt.
And though my body is more flexible, I fear my mind may be more rigid. Somewhere lost in all this “correct method” has been my compassion, some ease, and certainly balance.
Too much sthira (steadiness) and not enough sukha (softness).
But that’s when a good teacher steps in. Not the ones who use their dogma the way my gradeschool school nuns used their rulers – to keep students in that linear line.
A good teacher is one who focuses on practice not poses. One who greets me with an open mind and open heart. Because a good teacher understands that correct method is less about whether I exit a posture without toes touching down and more about how I can enter my life a better person.
This system is larger than its parts.
Postures are just postures. They hold no keys to the gates of heaven. But when linked together, they DO offer us a route towards developing strength and health in the body and mind. That’s all – nothing more, nothing less.
So, thanks to my teachers, I’ve come home to my practice a little softer and more forgiving. And that’s MY correct method … for now.
you sure?
lately, i find myself asking questions …
not like asking for directions – or, on second thought, maybe JUST like asking for directions. because sometimes, i feel a bit lost.
i question how i spend my time and i re-examine my goals. it means taking a long, hard look at myself as a mom, a wife, a friend, and a yogi and wonder if there are shifts i need to make and things i need to change. frankly, it’s all a little unsettling.
because these questions undermine a confidence i fight hard to build.
but then i remember that doubt is an important process, especially in matters of the heart. an unlikely pair, perhaps – but faith without doubt is meaningless.
we should never be afraid to question for *certainty without question* is the far scarier option. it’s a dead end. it’s the growth-stops-here moment. and it’s the enemy of any transformation.
anyway, i don’t want to be my own yes-(wo)man. someone who refuses to entertain misgivings for fear they should prove a more worthy companion.
instead, i will ask for direction and wonder away, keeping skepticism as my ally.
we should all invite in the questions. mingle and converse and treat them as dear friends. they don’t show you the way – because they ARE the way. and the only way we can move closer to that place of divine knowing.
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A.A.: Ashtangaholics Anonymous
Yoga should bring balance to your life – not BE your life
Tova Steiner – all round, well balanced person
So I have this friend … and she’s a bit obsessive. I know this about her and even embrace her exuberance – to a point.
Unfortunately, she passed that point a while back.
It all began when she started practicing Ashtanga yoga (with a capital “A” of course). In the beginning, I didn’t mind that our conversations would often turn to discussing postures like people, analyzing, criticizing, and whatnot. After all, these pretzel like positions were great folly and made for interesting conversation at times.
I was ok that she couldn’t eat past 7 pm (probably a good thing for anyone), abstained from even so much as a glass of wine (always have a designated driver) – though longed for a date that didn’t require me to be barefoot, or drink green tea, or eat anything else green for that matter.
Like it wasn’t enough that she practiced her obsession – but she had to teach it too. That’s when, I’m sorry to say – she became insufferable.
But I knew she’d gone completely overboard when she went on some vegan diet craze thinking a few pounds less and she could lift herself out of karandavasana (don’t know – don’t care), or to visit with her meant waking up for a 5 am practice … or how about when every conversation began with the always appealing opener: how was your practice this morning? … followed by a detailed accounting of HERS!
Her husband said it best when he finally texted her one morning:
Save your marriage. Say NO to yoga!
Ok. The insufferable one was me. Hello, my name is Peg … and I’m an Ashtangaholic.
I’m sure this happens in all styles of yoga. Actually, I’m NOT sure it does, but this thought makes me at least feel better.
Anyway, it wasn’t until I went away with my son – SANS YOGA MAT – that I actually realized what I’d become. He’s 15 years old and like most boys his age, wants nothing to do with yoga. And since all I do is yoga, well, that means he also wants nothing to do with me.
I knew I had to do something drastic or forever lose my son to his longboard, earphones, and an X-box. Drastic times called for drastic measures. I took him out of the country, to a far off jungle, with the promise to do nothing but 15 year old boy stuff. In other words – no yoga.
We hiked, we climbed, we looked for frogs, watched monkeys, and ate REAL desserts every evening. By the end of the week, I assure you, I SMELLED like a teenage boy as well. But in the process, I learned some very important things about my son’s life that I hadn’t known or perhaps noticed before:
1. Favorite fruit is pineapple.
2. He’s the best “slider” in the neighborhood. (Longboard speak for some move that I’m sure I don’t want to witness)
3. A different teacher has actually been teaching his science class all year.
4. He’d love to join the debate team because he likes to argue. (I did know this, but the kicker is that he admitted it!)
5. He doesn’t mind having me around, just so long as we can talk about things he finds interesting. (Two topics he tunes out? HW and – you guessed it – yoga.)
So from now on, I hereby promise not to let the quality of my day be dictated by whether I bound/landed/lifted. I promise to surf when I have the chance even though it will tighten my shoulders and compromise my backbend. I promise asana-free conversations with my friends, dates with my husband where I will wear shoes (and he can too), and even promised my son to dust off my old longboard so I can go watch him do this thing he calls sliding.
And if you don’t see me on my mat tomorrow morning, I’m either enjoying the occasional morning to sleep in … or the thing with the skateboards didn’t go so well.
Don't let him slip away so fast!
Colorful Eggs on the White House Lawn
Yesterday, the Obama family welcomed thousands of parents and children to the White House lawn for the 134th annual Easter Egg Roll. Following the First Lady’s passionate initiative for children’s fitness, the theme, Let’s Go, Let’s Move, Let’s Play, included yoga for the fourth year in a row.
Kids of all ages found their way to yoga mats, oftentimes not even waiting for a class to start. Some simply lay down on their backs to soak in the warm sun while others showed off their downward dogs, backbends, and even handstands.
The teachers who led the day’s classes were as widely diverse as the kids! Music artist and teacher, MC Yogi, and his wife Amanda took the kids on a musical yoga journey that included an exciting roller coaster ride … while DC’s Faith Hunter’s yoga session was set on a farm in her home state of Louisiana, complete with clucking chickens, meowing cats, slithering snakes, and even a few frogs.
But at the end of EVERY class, no matter WHO was teaching, we would circle up and close with the SAME message: yoga is about seeing the specialness in ourselves and the specialness in others. That’s all – no big words or fancy jargon. No effort to define yoga any further than seeing the good in us and sharing that goodness with all those we meet.
The kids didn’t care what they were wearing, whether the teacher played music, or even if they had a mat under their feet. And the only guru they recognized was the camera toting mom/dad/grandparent with the big, proud smile on their faces.
It was a day, even for parents, when spotting Power Rangers on the lawn was more important than whether a democrat or republican lived in the house on the hill. Because kids don’t care who you voted for, what color you are, what job you hold, how much money you make, and least of all, what kind of yoga you practice.
As adults, we spend so much time judging others – thinking our way is THE way. But kids don’t judge. They are too full of curiosity that the world around them is still fascinating and inviting. And even if they are not interested in being a butterfly or a warrior and the Globe Trotters interest them more, they will simply move one – not hold on.
It’s time to learn from the children. Invite ourselves to be curious again. Recognize that there are things more important in life than what church we belong to, the neighborhood we live in, or the style of yoga we practice.
Yesterday, on the White House Lawn, I was honored to teach children a backbend, a forward bend, and even a downward dog – but it was the kids who taught me something much more important: how to really be a yogi.
there are so many people, besides the children, to thank for yesterday’s events: the first family, for allowing us to share the gift of yoga with our nation’s children; manduka for donating mats and lululemon for participating as well; to ALL the talented yogis, who flew in from all across the country to teach; cleveland groove, for documenting the day; and of course, to leah cullis, who, besides organizes the bunch of us – is a beautiful light of inspiration.
lets be friends!
