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).

A Pinch(a) Salt

Being obsessed with the outcome of your yoga practice, is exactly what the ancient yogic texts teach us not to succumb to. However, as a result-oriented society, many of us tend to look for a desired outcome after putting in the effort, and this insistence, more often than not, sets us up for frustration. So much energy is spent on focussing on what we can't control, instead of staying grounded to our true intentions to the practice.  


What amused me the other day, was when a yoga teacher bumped into another, and the first thing she asked was, "Hey! Can you do the handstand yet???" 


Excuse me for being old-fashioned, but what happened to the "Long time no see, how are you?", or even "How are your classes going?"


Has the yoga society gone so competitively mad, that the handstand is perceived as the creme de la creme of yogasanas, and that achieving it puts you on a pedestal amongst the League of Extraordinary Yogis?  


Is progress in one's yoga practice defined by the ability to (eventually) do an advanced asana?


When my Tripsichore Yoga Teacher Training came with a huge serving of Pincha Mayurasana, garnished with arm and leg variations, my heartbeat accelerated and my first reaction was, "how the heck am I going to do ALL THAT by November?"  I googled for tips and techniques, and drooled at images and videos of LA-based yoga rockstar, Kathryn Budig, who eat forearm balances for breakfast!


I YogaGlo'd and zoomed in on as many online classes I could find on the Pincha. I printed out a picture of Kathryn Budig in an effortless funky Pincha Mayurasana for motivation. And I practised, and practised, and practised, keeping one eye on Budig, and the other eye on the October 24 deadline.


My shoulders collapsed whenever I tried to maintain vertical stability, and my arms were sore. Never mind I now have the ugliest elbows on this side of KL, as the skin got scraped off and re-scraped off.  And the final posture couldn't be further away. The more I stressed about "getting up", the more I fell down frustrated.


And so, blessed with tight shoulders, a dented coccyx from a previous bad accident and the love of going upside down, I tore down Budig's picture (sorry, Kathryn, but I still love you!), chucked my deadline out of the window...and continued to practise. Some days I can hardly get my head off the ground, and on other days, I lift off effortlessly with a 'woohoo', and encounter some stability.


One of today's great masters of yoga, B.K.S Iyengar, said, "Transformation is sustained change, and it is achieved through practice".

Start with the Headstand.
Stabilise and press the wrists and
forearms down firmly.

Slowly, flatten your palms,and
shift your forehead onto the mat.

Eventually, lift your head off the mat.
(A good indication of tight shoulders, is
when your forearms aren't totally straight)

Progress in your yoga practice should not be gauged by milestones and a timeline to achieve perfection.


To me, progress is defined by my highest point of my practice TODAY.  I still can't claim that I nailed the Pincha Mayurasana (as evident in Pic 3)... and there are days where I crash, boom and bang more than I stay up effortlessly... but I believe, you are only as good as your last practice.


So, sprinkle a pinch of salt, a wink and a laugh on deadlines, and enjoy the ride. It's much more exhilarating than the destination.