How to get up for yoga, again.
by Angela Jamison of Ashtanga Yoga Ann ArborOriginally published 9/22/12 AY:A2 Blog
Republished with permissionI’m unconsciously competent. The longer I practice, the
less I can articulate how to begin. So I must keep learning from those
who are new to ashtanga. Thank you for being open about what’s hard,
brave in dropping old habits, and enthusiastic in your own practice. I
love this phase of the learning.
At the start, getting up for practice requires strength and guts: I
admire you, and we will all support you. Later, you’ll be able to do what you want to do with ease, and will embody that grace to yet new beginners.
Again this year, I’ve surveyed our group to remix the autumn antidote
to SAD. The Earth is changing, our student body is changing, the
zeitgeist is changing: so, a practice so fine-tuned as ashtanga also has
to adapt. (This is true, too, of subtle changes to the method emerging
from the main school in Mysore: our old practice is ever new. Because we
are ever new.) Anyway, after a month in the lab with your findings,
here’s this year’s get-up-early elixir. No kidding: stick to a regular
practice rhythm, and ashtanga’s the only prophylactic you’ll need.
1. Alchemize your word.
What’s the value of your word? If you say you’re going to do
something, is that an ironclad statement? Is it as good as a 50/50 bet?
Is your word more like hot air? If you decide strongly that you are
going to be a woman or man of your word, then you can use the golden
quality of that word to hold yourself to your own intentions.
Recently, three different practitioners who were struggling to get on
the mat consistently got out of their own way with this single,
uncompromising practice. They decided to be the kind of people who have
zero daylight between what they say they will do, and what they do.
In those painful mornings when the bed was especially seductive, they
asked themselves if sleeping through the alarm was worth the pain of
going back on their own word. It wasn’t. Because they had turned their
word in to gold, it was able to cut through tamas, doubt, and even the
softest bed.
Thanks for the inspiration. You know who you are.
2. Use the moral values that help you practice; lose the ones that don’t.
It turns out that getting your words and actions lined up is efficient.
Similar is the Bhagavad Gita’s teaching that a yogi remains detached
from the fruits of her actions and simply absorbs her attention into
doing her best in the present moment. Ashtanga is not about getting an
awesome body or a perfect mind or “nailing” some posture; it’s about
maintaining some concentration and equanimity for every breath,
regardless of what it looks like.
Grasping for results isn’t morally wrong; it’s just not smart. What we can control is our attitude, not the outcome of actions. So why waste energy fretting about what we cannot control?
By the same token, why waste energy fretting about the past? Most of
us—myself included—have absorbed a Puritan meta-morality from western
culture. This includes a lot of emphasis on moral purity, with a
countervailing internal assault team of guilt, shame, self-loathing and regret.
Total waste of energy. Enough already,
Hester Prynne. Regrets for the past kill excitement for the present. You
are worthy and you are welcome: if the (internal) puritan mobs come for
you, laugh at their feeble 17th century weapons and get your lightning speed mulabandha in gear.
3. The drugs. 1 mg of herbal melatonin 30 minutes
before bed for the first 2 weeks. Don’t try to wake up at vastly
different times on different days. People seem to suffer too much doing
that. A key insight of Ayurveda is that the body loves a stable rhythm.
Reset the whole system, so your serotonin-melatonin dynamic is stable.
4. The rock’n’roll. Big sound, bright light and a hot shower in the morning are still key.
See here.
5. Practice in the body you have today. The corporeal body… and the student body.
The new people having the most fun this year are those rolling out your
mats near the veterans. People who have practiced for a while embody a
tacit (hormonal, energetic, phermonic?) knowledge that does rub off. Get
in!
The veterans’ prime time used to be 7-8 am, but like in most Mysore
rooms, it’s crept earlier because they just can’t wait to get on the
mat. Most newcomers say it helps to know that getting up early for
practice is effortless for so many. (For that matter, my alarm now goes
off at 3:30 instead of 4; and in Mysore I usually get on the mat at
4:15. And, to be brutally honest, it’s awesome.) For now, our group’s
energy is strongest from 6:30 – 7:30. You can come later if you want!
But if you need a boost, you’ll get it by jumping in the 6:30 updraft.
By contrast, if you arrive when the majority of people are finishing,
what you’ll experience is their most calm, grounded, quiet energy.
That’s also very nice, but one cannot really draft off it.
6. Start in with a sunshine lamp routine now.
Get one and follow the instructions. If you don’t want to invest the
money, ask your friends. Everyone who has one will tell you it changed
their life. Michigan newcomers usually suffer their first winter or two
before figuring this out. Why waste a year? I use a Phillips goLITE BLU
light therapy device.
7. Get closely in contact with your love of the practice. It’s there, even amid suffering, obstacles and madness. Why else are you doing this, anyway? Ayurveda teaches that our deep desires are wise, and that on some level the nervous system knows things.
I see different ways that each of you loves, and respects, and gives
thanks for this practice. It is personal. I see that some of you love
the way your mind and body operate on the days you practice; some of you
love the quiet of the mornings; many of you love the sheer honesty of
staying with this when it is physically, emotionally or psychically
hard.
Whatever it is, that awe and love are high quality fuel (whereas
guilt, shame, pride, superiority and achievement are not as great).
Love and a little reverence tend to give us all more energy as the
rhythms—hormones, appetites, emotions, inner vision, et cetera—find
their way into agreement with each other.
This is how it works. Most of us have to effort it strongly at first,
and then practice starts to do itself. I see for those of you in your
second year that you are not pushing yourselves to practice so much as
being practiced. Yes. Once this thing has a strong spin of its own, you
move from (1) depending on external practice resources (like high
concentration environments, others’ strong energy, and social norms that
promote precise mental discipline) to (2) producing them for yourself
and others. In this way, too, in the long run the yoga gives more energy
than it takes.
About Angela:
My name is Angela Jamison. I was introduced to ashtanga yoga in 2001 in Los Angeles, and have practiced six days a week continuously since 2003.
In 2006, I completed intermediate series with Rolf Naujokat before learning from him the ashtanga pranayama sequence. I maintain a relatively modest pranayama practice.
Later in 2006, I met Dominic Corigliano, who taught me the subtler layers of ashtanga practice, and eventually, slowly, taught me to teach yoga. During 2009, I assisted Jörgen Christiansson.
After retreats in the Zen, Vajrayana and Vipassana traditions, I began working with the meditation teacher Shinzen Young in 2009. I meditate daily, confer with Shinzen about my practice every few months, and take annual silent retreats.
I have made four long trips to Mysore to practice ashtanga with R. Sharath Jois, and to study the history and philosophy of yoga with M.A. Narasimhan and M.A. Jayashree. I will return to Mysore regularly.
In 2011, Sharath authorized me at Level 2, asking me to teach the full intermediate series.
Related: How to wake up for yoga
