Open Your Feet

True nonattachment is a very elusive state of mind. I know I’m not alone in the experience of frustration with certain asanas that, despite dedicated repetition, are not coming. Or in feeling somewhat invisible, when day after day you perform the same asanas up to what feels like a fairly decent standard and yet Teacher doesn’t give us the nod for the next one in the sequence. There is a certain brand of ‘crestfallen’ that describes this: to pour all your best work out at 5am and you either still can’t bind your hands or hook your feet or whatever physcial task being asked of you in some asana, or, worse, you finally do it with ease, eureka!, and your teacher doesn’t see this because they are reading the paper.

To practice without being a smidgen bothered about results is something that comes only after years of having your attitude adjusted. It’s not a coincidence that we come here for practice, this splendid India, having as it does an unmatched excellence in a seemingly limitless variety of tools for reducing the ego and neatening up the ‘tude. Westerners are used to being mollycoddled something awful, having a gadget for every little whim, and buying our way up the pole.

Here, you pay your fees and do what you’re told on the best version of a level playing field that I think can possibly exist in the real world, whether it is negotiating accommodation or a autoriksha [sic] ride or a month of Yoga practice at the shala. There are so many people, all wanting the same thing, all willing to pay- there is no “the customer is always right” rule here. You swallow your pride and if you want it clean, whatever it is, you scrub it yourself. (And, in the case of our new bathroom, plan to spend a few hours on your hands and knees!)

So I think the environment and culture are part of the practice in a very real way, which means taking nothing for granted and appreciating each small triumph. Peter and I went on what I would describe as our first real training ride this weekend— we were out for over 4 hours and did a steady 60+ miles on our bikes. We got out into some very rural countryside and came back into the wind, and enjoyed some post-ride euphoria having made a significant physical effort. Having made this effort, I was prepared for tiredness or tightness to show up in my Yoga practice this week, but so far the opposite has been true. Thus begins my yearly experiment with cycling and Yoga.

I apply myself in both disciplines for holistic reasons rather than athletic or performance-related goals, and take a great deal of enjoyment and education from both fields. Because I had such a nice bike ride, which has Yogic applications in the same way as I have experienced in asana, I don’t feel as needy about progressing in my asana practice. This morning it occurred to me that this is probably a cop-out, not caring so much whether or not I got Shalabhasana today, because I am so much looking forward to my next bike ride. My ego has another progression to focus on: building up the stamina I’ll need to hang with my normal riding crew back in Scotland when we finally return. Because of the ride, or in spite of it, who knows; today I was lighter and stronger in my practice, my joints felt so spacious, and I had a true nonchalance that kept me from being too hungry for the next asana. I loved every moment of my practice this morning, even more so than usual and without any of the frustrations.

Being out in the countryside, riding through villages without electricity and interacting with the land and its creatures, and using a completely natural method of transportation— muscle power— is, for me, an essential element of this time. I am overcome with gratitude for having the time, energy, and resources to be here. Inevitably there are conflicts, some days the body is tired. Some days are dark and the mind is doubtful and it all feels ludicrous and extremely self-indulgent. However, today I got Shalabhasana (locust pose), and I feel fine.

Here is Erich Schiffmann both in Shalabhasana and sporting one of the proudest mullets in Yoga.