Individualized Ashtanga practice ...NOT an oxymoron

Ho hum. Practiced today. It went fine. Vinyasas still a bit weak, and jump throughs a bit lame. I have to say, I don't quite understand what's up with my vinyasas right now. When I am alone in the privacy of my own home, I can jump my legs straight through. I can jump straight into tirianga mukha pada. I float. I fly. And then I come to class. And I klunk. I flop. At best, I scootch and slide. I talk to my legs, I tell them, "Engage, damn you!" And then I feel kind of bad because I know that my legs would respond much better to positive reinforcement. And besides, it isn't all their fault anyway. It's those shifty, mischievous bhandas not doing their fair share of the work. There they are. And then there they're not.

Where do they go, so furtively, taking with me my jump throughs?

Mari C and Mari D are just poses that I do now. Nothing major going on there. I don't see a lot more depth happening any time soon. Right now, I am dealing with sweat issues, which is slightly interfering with my poses. It's not quite hot and sweaty enough for me to break out my Mysore rug (even though I now have it at the read, just in case). But it's way too hot and sweaty for me to get through my entire practice without wiping and adjusting my yoga pants - either higher up on my tummy so that my lotus foot doesn't slide around on my bare skin, or lower down so that my back arm doesn't slide directly across my bare, sweaty back, making my wrist slick with sweat so that it becomes impossible for me to grab my wrist with my wrapping arm...or adjusting my tank top - either pulling it up so that I can use the slipperiness of my sweaty back to help me slide my hands up my back into reverse prayer for Parsvotannasana or to help me slide my wrapping arm around me in the Ardha Badhas, or pulling it back down so that I can grip my waist in Uttitha Hasta Padangusthasana.

I love the heat, don't get me wrong. But all that sweat is just overkill for my practice. But summer's coming, and this is just the beginning, so I better get used to it. You take the good with the bad. And the fact that it's light in the mornings, and it's easier to get out of the house without the many layers of clothing, and I can wear flip-flops again...well, that's all good.

Bhuja Pidasana is pretty much about as good as it is going to get, I think, save for the tweaking that years of practice adds to any pose. I wonder when it will be time for Kurmasana. That is the one pose (by Kurmasana, I am referring to both Kurmasana and Supta K) that I fear and dread. There is something about the way people look in it, with their backs all curled up like a mushroom and their legs behind their heads....it looks scary to me. I feel that way about no other poses. So this should be interesting. If, and when.

Speaking of Kurmasana and Supta K, there was a girl practicing in my peripheral vision today who did all of Primary, but whose form was really quite sloppy. She could barely straighten her arms in Kurmasana. And it made me wonder: why is it that some people are expected to really perfect and finesse their asanas before they are given new ones (and by some people, I am pretty sure I mean me), and some people just plow through Primary with little adherence to the finer details that I am more or lessed forced to adhere to (for example, Mari A: if there is someone available, I always get an adjustment such that my UNDERSIDE of my chin is pressed into my shin and my back is stretched so far, it feels like I'm on a rack, but in a good way)? I bet that if I was seen doing Mari A with my back rounded, and I moved onto Mari B, someone would come over and tell me to do Mari A again with their help. And yet all around me, people have their backs curved and their foreheads on their knees.

I am in no way upset about any of this. I just find it interesting. I wonder if it is because forward bending is a huge strength of mine. Just as some of you bendy gumby people out there can touch your hands to your ankles in Urdhva Dhanurasana, or even walk your hands up towards your knees, I, myself, am forward-bending savant. My hamstrings simply feel no pain. They just stretch and stretch, like a worn-out rubber band. I consider this a happy little gift. We all have our gifts. This is mine. So, perhaps no one will ever give a hoot about my ability to bend 360 degrees in Urdvha Dhaurasana, but I'll always be kept to a high standard in poses that require loose hammies?

Or, as we were discussing yesterday at brunch, perhaps it is a reflection of the notion that my "yoga practice" is in the slowing down. Given a choice between taking the slow road or plowing ahead, my challenge is always to be willing to stay on the slow road. It's a major factor in why I gravitated toward Sir and Shala X. They "got" me. He "got" me. I'm an athletic, strong little person, and I can do what you throw at me. But that doesn't make it yoga. What makes it yoga for me is learning patience, learning to take instruction, learning to acknowledge when the ego is obscuring my view, like dirt on a windshield (and by "my" I am referring to my "self", the untouched, unconfused, unsubjective, pure truth, the observer of the mind; thus if the mind is all identified with the ego, the self is obscured, at least to some extent).

A real turning point in my practice came in September 2005 when Sir took everything after Mari C taken away, saying, "Let's finally get you to do this correctly, on your own, before we move past it." That was where the rubber could have met the road. That was the day that if I was not ready for what was about to be taught, I would have to have left Shala X and gone and found a teacher who would continue to feed my ego (Ego: "I'm so fit! I teach yoga! I can DO all the poses, I just need some help, but I can really DO them!"). If I had done so, however, I wonder what my practice would look like today? Would I even know how to bind Mari C? Would I be chomping at the bit for Second, which I am so not ready for (yet)?

The taking away of Mari D and everything past it was the greatest gift Sir could have given me as a teacher. My sticking around in spite of the blow to my ego was the greatest gift I could have given myself as a student.

Anyone else out there feel like their teacher teaches them a very individualized yoga practice, even within the sameness of the Asthanga series?

YC