July
1999
Rediscovering
the Reason For Yoga
By Claudette Silver
|
|
|
I have been studying yoga for about five years,
and like many people in the West, I began doing it for relaxation. I have
just finished my first year of the teacher training program at the Iyengar
Yoga Institute in San Francisco. When I started, I had no idea that it
would grab hold of me so tightly, right in the gut, and that I would travel
all the way to India to celebrate the birthday of a man I have never met.
He is B.K.S. Iyengar, and he was born 80 years ago in Karnataka in South
India. As a child, he suffered from malaria and typhoid and a multitude
of other illnesses and came to yoga for healing. At the time, as luck
would have it, Iyengar’s sister was to be married to a well-respected
man named Sri Krishnamachar who also happened to be a masterful yogi.
At first, Krishnamachar would not teach his young brother-in-law yoga,
but Iyengar was persistent. Finally Sri Krishnamachar agreed. That, as
they say, was the beginning of what has amounted to over 65 years of diligent,
persistent, and relentless study of yoga. Iyengar has written a multitude
of books on the subject, has trained thousands of teachers in his “style” of
yoga, and has become a living icon in the field of yoga.
What makes Iyengar’s system of yoga distinctive from others is the
detailed, precise way in which the poses are executed. Iyengar yoga is
often criticized as being a “physical” as opposed to “spiritual” practice.
However, in his classic text Light on Yoga, Iyengar describes
his belief about yoga in the following way: “Asana (the yoga pose)
brings steadiness, health, and lightness of limb. A steady...posture produces
mental equilibrium and prevents fickleness of the mind. The yogi conquers
the body by the practice of asanas and makes it a fit vehicle for the
spirit....A soul without a body is like a bird deprived of its power to
fly.” I found this to be true even before I knew that the “Iyengar”of
Iyengar Yoga was a real, live person.
Birthday Celebration
So, when I received the notice in the mail that Mr. Iyengar’s
eightieth birthday was to be celebrated in Pune, India, with participants
from all over the world, I had to go. I had to see for myself firsthand
what this man was all about.
Well, see I did, and truthfully, I got more than I bargained for. I had
heard stories about the “toughness” and “rigidity”
in his teaching, I had heard tales of him holding headstand for hours
on end. But to actually experience Iyengar in real-time was overwhelming
to put it mildly. What did I see? A few images come to mind. At one point
during one of our marathon yoga sessions, I watched him strike both women
on either side of me. One woman rotated her foot before he said she could,
and so he bellied himself right in her face, screaming, “Why don’t
you listen to me?” With that, he whacked her left foot back into
line. His other victim, who was two feet to my left, happened to have
her arms pointing in a direction he didn’t like. I have no idea what
he said, for I was too busy avoiding the flames spitting from his mouth.
“Didn’t I tell you...,” he yelled, as he struck her raised
arms so hard she faltered and nearly fell.
I consider myself to be quite lucky. I have never in my life been struck,
hit, or even slapped. I never imagined that I would travel to India to
study with the master himself and face that fear. What will I do if he
hits me, I thought. And what does this have to do with “mental equilibrium?”
When Iyengar is questioned about his behavior, his response almost seems
logical. Almost. Iyengar has stated that what he is doing when he “smacks”
your arm is to “awaken” it, to move your consciousness to that
part of the body. In one of his more famous aphorisms he says, “Never
perform asanas mechanically, for the body stagnates.” Thus, he argues,
his little “tap” is aimed at removing the mechanics from your
posture and help deter the stagnation of your consciousness.
That was one of the longest two weeks in my life, dealing every day with
the struggle of what I was doing there, and the constant question of why
I practice yoga. At one point, as we all stood with our arms stretched
overhead, stiff like lightening rods, I had this vision of trying to explain
this cult-like scenario to my mother: All seven hundred of us standing
at attention with our arms in the air like launchers. I put my hands down.
I couldn’t explain it.
After I returned home, it took me a while to approach yoga without hearing
Iyengar’s booming voice over my shoulder. And when all my fellow
yoga students eagerly asked about my trip, all I could muster was that
it made me question my study of yoga. It is hard for me to criticize a
man who has brought so much knowledge and wisdom to the field of yoga,
particularly when I am such a novice! But it is also hard for me not to
criticize a man who uses abusive and intimidating tactics to reach his
goal.
Finding the Explanation
I arrived to class a few minutes late, which, considering
how I have been feeling about yoga these days, wasn’t bad. Clearly,
as I saw what the other students were doing, this was a class all about
backbends. At least, I thought, this is a treat!
We stood firm on our feet and adjusted a strap around our left ankle,
then laced it between our toes. The pose is called natarajasana
or “Lord of the Dance” after Lord Krishna. Up and over the shoulder
my arm went holding the strap, as I arched my right leg back like a bow.
At first it was very difficult for me to gauge just how high my leg was
reaching, and I was a little scared to move my hands down the strap for
fear I would just break.
My teacher came up behind me and held the foot of my extended leg in her
hand. Gently she nudged my foot toward my hand. I wasn’t holding
the belt anymore, I was holding my toe! “Can you hold your foot with
both hands,” she whispered. Of course I couldn’t find anything
in my vocabulary to answer her. Instead, I bent my elbow and grabbed hold
of my foot. I did it! My foot was touching my head....which was touching
my left hand....which was touching my right hand! I can’t explain
the wonder and awe of going to a place, a space, where you have never
been before. That second or two where time didn’t exist for me is
a feeling I hope everyone has at some point in their lives and, right
then, I answered my own question about why I love to practice yoga.
Claudette Silver is an artist
and writer who lives with her two feline loves, Pinky and Delilah, in
San Francisco.
|
|
© STEALTH TECHNOLOGIES INC. |
|
