Once Upon An Elephant's Tale

Most of us are familiar with Lord Ganesha, one of the most popular worshipped divinities in India.  With its elephant head and a rat as its 'vehicle' (yes, try picturing a huge, rotund Ganesha sitting on a tiny rat, circling the Universe!), the deity is often seen at the entrances of Indian homes and businesses.

Lord Ganesha

I love stories, myths and legends, and the story of Ganesha is one of my favourites.  Lord Ganesha is the son of Lord Shiva and the Goddess Parvati (Shakti).  Legend has it, that Lord Shiva went away for battle when Ganesha was born, and Parvati gave little Ganesha, the manly duty of guarding their home.  One day, as Ganesha was guarding the entrance to the river where Parvati was taking her daily bath, he was approached by a strong warrior, demanding access to Parvati. The warrior was none other than Lord Shiva, but Ganesha has never seen his father while growing up (as Lord Shiva was away in battle for many many years), so standing true to his duty to protect his mother's safety and modesty, Ganesha stood his ground and refused Lord Shiva entry.


Lord Shiva, who did not know Ganesha was his own son, flew into a rage, and chopped the lad's head off! Parvati's grief knew no bounds, and Lord Shiva swore to bring the boy back to life. Unfortunately, when he went back to retrieve the boy's head, it was nowhere to be found. A quick fix was sought, and it was decided that the first available head would be used instead.... an elephant's!


And because of his role as protector and guardian at entrances, Parvati issued a royal decree that Lord Ganesha (also known as Ganapati) will be known as the Remover of all Obstacles, and will be worshipped first before any other divinity.


I'm thoroughly enjoying my week off from teaching, as Muslims in Malaysia celebrate the Aidil Fitri festivities after a month-long of fasting during the holy month of Ramadhan. 
As I stepped onto the mat this morning, accompanied by a fresh, cool breeze and the sound of persistent raindrops, I gazed onto the image of Lord Ganesha on my little yoga altar, and am reminded of a bigger energy source.... the Universe. As it has been scorching hot with hardly any rain for the past few weeks, I visualise that (perhaps) the Remover of Obstacles has given the heat wave a solid elephant's kick, rode around the Universe on the back of his trusty lil' ratmobile and brought some rain clouds back with him.


As I prepare for my evening practice, I am grateful for having the time off to concentrate on my practice, see it from a renewed perspective... and to notice the smaller (yet still significant) stuff on and off the mat.


Take a breath, and close your eyes the next time you step onto your yoga mat. Visualise Ganesha removing the obstacles in your life with his mighty trunk, and bringing your yoga practice to a daily threshold of new beginnings.
Now, open your eyes, exhale... and begin your practice.


Om Shanti, Love and Light.


(wishing my teachers and friends in India, a Happy Ganesha Chaturthi which falls on 1 Sept 2011)

Will the Real Yoga Please Stand Up?

I was teaching a Beginners class Bakasana this morning, and when I finished the demonstration, a student said, "you make it look so easy".

Bakasana (Crow Pose)

After class, as we were sipping our cups of organic tea, the same student approached me and asked, "what is your most challenging asana?"


Hmmm... where do I begin? A string of advanced asanas, starting with Handstand and Kapotasana, was immediately at the very tip of my tongue. But I paused. There are so many asanas that I find challenging and that I'm still working on. But I think of Yoga as a process... a continuous work-in-progress, where the inability of getting into the full pose, is in fact, the "Yoga" itself.


I mean, what happens when we're "there"? Do we then get complacent in our practice, because the learning has stopped?


Not being able to do the full pose means practice, practice and more practice. It helps to keep me focused and grounded, and to stay true to vairagya (non-attachment) to any specific or desired outcome.



When I step onto the mat, either for some self-practice, or in front of a class, I leave all the craziness and demands of life momentarily behind, and immerse myself into a cocooned state of 'yogasm'. Nothing beats a foreplay consisting of Sun Salutations, leading up to a body-heating vinyasa practice, and climaxing to a well-deserved Savasana. 

As I drive home from class, weaving in and out of the crazy Friday lunch hour traffic, I feel that the most challenging aspect of my yoga practice is to consistently practise my Yamas and Niyamas. Trust me, I'm no angel (though I'm named one!) and I am just as flawed as the next Billy Bob! Living in the city is stressful, and I have other responsibilities as a wife, daughter, business partner and mum to 2 adorable but clingy cats. Everyone and everything is always trying to push my buttons. To stay mindful, composed and non-reactive at all times, is a huge challenge.


Perhaps the "real Yoga" starts when we step off the mat and deal with life's tsunamis in the real world, yeah?


(I apologise if the play of the word "yoga" in this article is offensive to any reader. It was borne purely out of creative copywriting and has no intention to insult the age-old practice).