Life's a Vinyasa

You say Ashtanga, she calls it Flow, and he swears by Vinyasa.

Same poses, but with huge dramatic differences, in what I'd like to call "choreyogaphy".

Vinyasa Yoga is often termed as a "flowing sequence of asanas that connect breath with movement".  I love Vinyasa. I love the very fact that I can tap into classical Hatha yogasanas and "choreyogaph" them to a seamless flowing practice where the mind, breath and body unite in a meditative state while in motion.  In lieu of the music of my breath, I too sometimes love to Vinyasa to tunes from my playlist where I get swept up by the flow of mantras as I settle into a pose, be it for a breath or five, before another takes its place. I love the 'aaah' moment where the practitioners in my class are led from prep poses to a peak pose, before dissolving the practice into restorative mode.

Vinyasa reminds me that life imitates art (the art in this case, being Yoga). Yoga teaches us to practise non-attachment (vairaghya) because nothing in life is ever permanent. Just like a Vinyasa practice, we flow through life, ride the peak poses, take the occasional tumble (like from a Handstand straight into a Savasana splat!), as one life experience dissolves and a new one takes its place. But as each unfolding moment presents itself, that too shall pass. 

Vinyasa - even bunnies do it
(image from mindbodygreen)

Finding the balance between joy and curiosity is often the base ingredient for my Vinyasa "choreyogaphy", sometimes even without the initial, rigid dogma of alignment. My Vinyasa practice is when I take fun seriously. My body and mind become my intimate canvas for opportunities, mistakes and growth. To me, healthy alignment is in the body's natural state, and with a full presence in one's practice, the alignment will eventually come (those who practise Ashtanga Vinyasa will attest to that).  

My body, my canvas

We exist in a constant state of adjustment, in order to get the alignment of our lives right. We adhere by schedules, deadlines, society and parental expectations. But have we ever thought of loosening the reins a little, and revisit the state of childlike wonder, to allow every turn to reveal a constant discovery, and every experiment to unearth new beginnings? Would we let ourselves sink into permanent rituals that (may) rob us of being joyful? 

Much has been said about 'enjoying the journey' but do you Vinyasa on the mat, as well as in life?

Blokes and Yoga

He walked behind his girlfriend, dragging his feet along slowly, as if every step was a step closer to his doom... a stoop on his wide, muscled, reluctant shoulders and a doubtful look on his face.  She on the other hand, smiled widely at me, as if half the battle had already been won. 

"I brought my boyfriend", she sang. "It's his first class".
He glared at me and mumbled his name when I introduced myself. 

I asked if he had any prior injuries or health conditions I should know about, and he crossed his arms and said loudly in his most macho tone, "I wrecked my right knee when I was windsurfing, and I have a disc problem in my lower back due to lifting weights at the gym". 

Image from 123RF

So, here we are... in class, with Mr. Macho (let's call him Mr. M), his bendy girlfriend and 3 other regular female practitioners. Being clearly outnumbered in the flexibility department did not peak Mr. M's enthusiasm for yoga.

I assured him this was a Beginner's class, and we're not here to be competitive. "To each his or her own practice" is my mantra, and I promised to offer variations, props and lots of pit stops for rest in-between. (I also told him to only look at my demonstrations and not at the other ladies around him).

We started off with some joint movement exercises, breathing, before proceeding to four half rounds of the Classical Surya Namaskar. By then, Mr. M was already sweating profusely and breathing loudly at each Tadasana, as if to find inner strength from each inhalation to last the hour. 

I sprinkled the class with light-hearted humor, just to make him feel more at ease (and to divert his attention from his super tight shoulders, hamstrings and quads).  The rest of the ladies found it relaxing to slow down and work on their alignment, so the class turned out pretty balanced.

Surprisingly, for someone who's never practised yoga before and is extremely inflexible, Mr. M was very aware of how his body responded to each asana, and his alignment was near perfect. I told him so, and he looked at his girlfriend with a "see...I'm not that bad" grin on his face.

At the end of the class, his towel and t-shirt were soaked (so was the mat), and he said, "Wow... this was hard! Harder than lifting weights! But I feel good". (My heart did a lil' dance of joy).

Well, here's hoping he'll join his girlfriend for more yoga.

In the meantime, here's some eye candy on male celebs who practise yoga.  
Have a great weekend! xx

Adam Levine in Nirlamba Ardha Chandrasana

Matthew McConaughey in Bhujangasana

Sting in Padmasana

Why I Write

It's been a while since I last wrote... a long while, actually (and postings about workshops and events happening at the studios where I teach don't count as writing).

After two back-to-back Teacher Trainings since end June, and a packed August, this long weekend had me finishing up some long-abandoned half-read books, plus some well-deserved me time on my mat with my practice.

A conversation with a monk a few weeks back, in my car, came to mind. "You write", he said. "I do... in an amateurish way", was my sheepish reply. "And why do you write?" he asked, just as we approached our destination. I didn't respond immediately as I was busy maneuvering the car into the parking lot. "Write more", he quietly said, upon hearing my answer.

As I sat by the window, watching the afternoon rain fall from the skies, I pondered on a topic to write on. Nothing came to mind. Instead, I thought about why I write in the first place. I used to write to earn a living. But now...

I write to let go of things and people that do not contribute positively to my life...  

I write to remind myself to practice impermanence... just like the shadow play cast by the setting sun, everything will (eventually) be gone when one day ends and a new one begins tomorrow.

I write to remind myself to

I write to celebrate that true friendship isn't about being inseparable, it's about being separated and nothing changes.

I write about how blessed I am by the beautiful beings who have entered my life, touched my soul and transformed me into a better person.

I write about the storms in my life before the calm. And how I learnt to dance in the rain instead of waiting for the storm to pass.

I write about not skipping straight to the breakthrough. Instead, I am openly honest that I too, am a work-in-progress and that happy endings don't come without hard work.

I write to heal... to be free of my demons... and to have the courage to love again.

Write more, I was told.
Write more I shall.

xx