Before anyone gets on me for judging my practice, a quick primer:
I don’t believe that the lesson of yoga is to learn that I’m perfect the way I am or to accept my place in the world or anything of the kind.
It’s a modern form of Tapasya, an attempt to burn away “the bad fat,” as we read in Guruji’s Yoga Mala, in both its literal and figurative forms. It’s hard. It’s rough. It’s grueling.
Good reminder, especially with the Ashtanga Yoga Confluence just a bit more than a month off. I won’t be setting my mat down directly in front of Richard Freeman, I can tell you that.
The funny thing is, I have Bobbie to thank for the lesson.
During her Intro class last night, she joined the 10 students in the room in practicing. It’s something Tim Miller does regularly, and Bobbie’s Led class is designed to move students along so they can begin a Mysore practice.
With her just calling out the names of the poses and then the fifth breath, it was a good “baby step” that way.
It was that fifth breath that was the real teacher.
Her five breaths were anywhere from seven to 11 of mine, and I think I probably missed a few poses where the count went even higher than that.
Which is good to know. You know, before I go getting too cocky about being able to pick up and pull back.
I’ve got a to learn and a long way to go. Which isn’t a surprise, but it was a timely — if slightly roughand tough — lesson.
Rough? There’s that word again. Perhaps it’s all just part of the Tapasya.
I did, at least, seem to be having an easier time of it than all the “newbies” in the class. Perhaps surprisingly, despite Bobbie’s really stepping up the “Ashtanga’s hard” lesson, the response from the students was pretty positive.
I wonder how they’re feeling this morning, though.
Posted by Steve