Inner/Outer: The Yoga Journey
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all of our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And to know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate...At the source of the longest river...
—T.S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"
A couple of weeks ago I participated in a yoga immersion workshop with Tias and Surya Little, of Prajna Yoga. Tias is someone I have wanted to study with for a very long time. That he and his wife Surya live and do most of their teaching in New Mexico is something of an obstacle, so I was excited to hear he was teaching on the Cape. The weekend was remarkable and satisfying on a number of levels.Tias Little includes the poem above in a chapter of his book "Yoga of the Subtle Body" describing the spinal base as the "source of the longest river," a river of tremendous power that flows through the spinal column, harnessed by movements within the pelvis and tailbone. The poem is an apt entry point for the weekend, which included a lot of exploration of asana from the lens of subtle body awareness. (Simply put, 'subtle body' refers to the energetic body, as opposed to the gross, physical body).
I am drawn to teachers who, like me, have been practicing/teaching yoga for 25 years or longer, and whose approach to yoga and teaching yoga has shifted, evolved, and matured in pace with their own aging and maturation. At 53, I cannot ignore the fact of my body changing. Bones have become more brittle, soft tissues less malleable, joints stiffer, and alongside these sometimes alarming changes, I have felt in recent years a deep and inward shift. My love for asana is still alive and well, but that love is increasingly in service to my desire to journey inward. I'm lucky that I have opportunities to teach a variety of classes at the studio, between flow classes, gentle classes, and moderate hatha work—which can be both fiery and deeply internal.Throughout the weekend, I felt entirely safe under Tias' guidance and loved working in the more subtle plane of asana exploration. Make no mistake: this man is an asana master and at 58 is still capable of impressive display, but my sense is that impressive display interests him less and less. His abiding interest is in exploring the world of the subtle body and where and how it intersects with the gross body. He is exploring metaphysical speculations as they relate to the physical body and through asana work, as well as meditation, helping students have a rich experience of the subtle body. While I love a vinyasa flow practice, I find that I am increasingly drawn to more subtle work, and in Tias Little I have met my guide. I hope to spend some time this year or next out in NM at Prajna yoga.
I noticed as I looked around at the 80 or so practitioners around me in that beautiful, resonant sanctuary in Orleans MA, that we were a mixed group. A lot of instructors, but a lot of newcomers too, a range of ages and ability. In chatting with one woman newish to yoga and in her early 30's, I noted a certain restlessness and impatience. I recognized my younger self in her. I remember at 20, 30 and even 40, feeling "greed" to do the hardest most demanding postures at workshops with master teachers. I remember tolerating the slow moments, the more contemplative portion of practice in workshops and immersions, but secretly feeling that it was just something I had to get through in order to get to the fun, fancy stuff. I was struck as I listened to my co-workshopper, by the contrast between that younger version of myself, and my 53 year old self. I love slow, deep practices. I am entirely happy to sit in meditation for 40 minutes, 50 minutes, and see what happens. The luxury and delight of a 45 minute guided meditation! The sweetness of lying on my back and for two hours diving into the subtlest of movements! To not be in a hurry to "get to the good stuff" is, well, the word that came to my mind that weekend was 'liberating'. And as soon as I thought that word to myself, lying there one afternoon with a shaft of sunlight filtering through my eyelids and Tias' warm and rich voice guiding my attention, I remembered I had used that exact word "liberated" in my mind some 20 years ago: After about 10 years of taking and teaching—exclusively—Iyengar Yoga, I walked into an Ashtanga Primary Series class in Encinitas CA and felt the exhilarating freedom that comes with unfettered movement. The word that floated up to me as I gleefully sweated through that first class, was "liberated."Now, it's the deep and nuanced stillness that frees me. I don't necessarily need the flow and sweat of movement to get me to a place where I can reign in thought and get into the quiet, still cave of my own inner self. I still love to practice and teach the flow classes and I don't anticipate giving that up anytime soon, but the real sweetness for me lies in the deep well of contemplation, and it's in that shift that I am finding my "yoga."
However you experience and explore your yoga, I wish you a fruitful and exhilarating journey, at the studio, on the mat and beyond.