I’ll sleep when I’m…in bed.

A few weeks ago, I made plans to meet a friend at the CT Shala.  I made the plans in good faith, thinking how nice it would be to meet up with him (we went to college together although we only know each other through the cyber-shala world) and to see some real life friends who practice with Val regularly.  Ah, good intentions.  Apparently, they are exactly where the rubber meets the road: I woke up on the appointed morning and couldn’t get myself out of bed.  I tried, at first, to blame it on being tired.  I wasn’t used to waking up early to practice within someone else’s time frame.

It bothered me to think that I didn’t have the discipline to wake up and get out of bed for practice.  It bothered me so much that I couldn’t stop thinking about it…until I realized that not being able to get out of bed for shala practice was the symptom, not the problem.  The truth?  I just didn’t WANT to anymore.

I sent my apologies and noted, “My practice is just not shala-ready.”

But even as I wrote it, I knew that it wasn’t exactly true.  I mean, when I started my Mysore-style practice at Guy’s shala (actually, my very first practice ever was at Eddie’ Stern’s, but Guy’s shala was my first habitual place of practice), I was very much an Ashtanga beginner.  I could barely bind Marichyasna A or B and couldn’t bind C or D without help.  Supta Kurmasana was impossible without a towel between my hands.  I couldn’t really even get to Supta Kurmasana without getting winded.  I had no almost no backbend practice at all, and my Upward Facing Dog was nearly flat.  Yet every day, I went to practice.  Every day, I relished the experience, looked forward to it.  On the rare occasion when I couldn’t get to practice for the late morning session, I went early.  Or I came in the evening.  It didn’t matter that I was humbled by the practice.  I went anyway.  It didn’t matter that it was difficult for me, and that I didn’t know if I would ever be able to complete the Primary Series.  I went anyway.

So, not shala ready?  What did that even mean?

What it means is that I am no longer willing to put myself in the hands of a Mysore-style teacher.  Not that there is anything wrong with Val or Guy or Kimberly or any of them.  It’s me.  It’s my unwillingness to have my practice interrupted with assists I don’t want or need.  It’s my unwillingness to NOT add in a set or two of Jivamukti-style sun salutations between Surya Namaskar A and Surya Namaskar B, if I want to.  Or to add a set of Gomukhasana arms in before Parvotanasana.  Or to add in a set of pigeon poses and a Hanumanasana before the Warrior poses.  Or to do Pasasana after Marichyasana D instead of waiting until MILES later, after my body has long since forgotten twists.  Or to add in all the leg-behind-head poses either before OR after Supta Kurmasana, just because I feel noodley and want to explore.  Or to save all of the backbend poses for dead last so that I can warm up my back and my arms before having to press up into full wheel.

It’s my utter lack of receptivity to hearing that my breath should be louder.  Or that I might want to consider bending my elbows in Upward Dog.  Or to being treated to a midpractice jump-through workshop.

I just want to do what my body wants to do.

But truth be told, there is more than that.  There are things that make me cringe about shala practice, things that I never thought would make me cringe.  Things like American teachers pretending to speak like Indians (“you take”, “you do”).  Things like practicing before an altar with a photo of Sri K. Pattabhi Jois.  Things like students bowing before the altar, putting their hands in prayer over their head.  Why?  Why the bowing, sure, but WHY the prayer over the head?  What does that even MEAN?  Things like that requisite “Namaste” and bowing to the teacher upon leaving the shala.  Things like being required to take Savasana.  I NEVER take Savasana.  I’ll sleep when I’m in BED.

And the worst thing of all: the impetus to perform.  I.  Just.  Can’t.  Anymore.  I just can’t.  I don’t wanna.  People who comment here sometimes ask me, what happened to me?  Who hurt me in the Ashtanga world?  Who insulted me?  Who made me feel  small?  Honestly?  Nothing and no one.  It’s all me.  I just started waking up to the fact that I don’t want my workout (and YES, I have never been anything but honest about the fact that this is my workout) to be under someone else’s scrutiny.  I want it to be for ME.  I don’t want to do it for YOU, or for YOU or for YOU or for Teacher.  I want to do it for me.

Yet…there I am on my mat, at home, but still imagining the audience.  I still imagine what Teacher would think, what Teacher might say.  When I practice Pasasana after Marichyasana D, I imagine the Hypothetical Teacher saying, “Yes, but it is EASY to do Pasasana when you’ve JUST done two deep twists before it.  Try doing it COLD.  Then you’ll REALLY be an Ashtangi.”   When I do all the backbends in a row, same thing.  And sometimes I become present enough on my mat to remember that there is no reason why it has to be done THAT way, instead of THIS way, except that someone said it.  One person said it.  And that person changed his mind quite often.

Until I can get to that place where I know I am doing this practice for me, until I get to the place where that Hypothetical Teacher is accepting of my body exactly as it is each day, and doesn’t mind when I give that body exactly what I know it needs, I won’t be comfortable doing my practice in a shala anymore.

In truth, I hope that someday I WILL be able to practice in a shala again.  I’d even like for that day to be tomorrow.  I just know that it isn’t.  For now, I’m in recovery.  Shala recovery.



9 Responses to I’ll sleep when I’m…in bed.

  1. bindifry says:

    i enjoy your journey. plz keep it up

  2. Floss says:

    People bow before the alter in your shala ? Not in my part of the world.

    For me the Namaste/bow is just a way of saying thank you. Like when you go to a karate class you also bow to the teacher at the end of it.

    Isn’t it great how this practice is such a great tool for self inquiry, even if you aren’t doing the practice ! ( And I mean no sarcasm in saying this )

    I think you have great insight with your journey. Good luck and follow your heart !

  3. Hi, Lauren.

    I’m just starting to get to know you and your blog, but I love what I see so far.

    The blog above is filled with honest self-reflection, good humor, straight-talk, and polite but very direct provocation. You take responsibility, but you also bring up a lot of important Yoga world issues.

    To each his or her own, of course. I know Ashtanga fits some people perfectly. It might have even been a good fit for you at one time. My biggest concern is for those who get wrapped up in the wrong system for them, and don’t have the insight or the strength to realize it or to get out of it.

    Those people will be very grateful to have read your blog. It will motivate them to do what’s right for them, too, like you are doing.

    I’ll look forward to your future blogs, and I’m anxious to go back and see what I missed in the past, too.


    Bob Weisenberg

  4. P.S. Great move to switch to WordPress.

  5. N says:

    “When the mind is quiet, the asana is correct.” – SKPJ

    Don’t know how often he changed his mind about that, but I think it’s spot on. Do your thang.

  6. AC says:

    I wonder how many of us would love to be able to practice at home, doing the routine we like without the need of having to go to a shala.

    YC, I think you’ve got it made, doing the practice you want at home with no need for a shala!

    Enjoy your practice, that’s all we can hope for whether we practice alone or in a shala setting.

  7. yogachickie says:

    Bob, I appreciate your compliments, and I do feel that there are people out there who, hard as it is for them to admit it, impossible to admit it in some cases, at least publicly, who ARE changing their mindsets because what I write hits them in an inescapable way. They see it, and the denial stops. I feel good about that. I hope to open more eyes. If I can prevent ONE preventable injury (physical or emotional)…I will feel like I have done my job here.

  8. carol says:

    I have been reading your blog on and off for a while. This is the first time I have read, “I will sleep when I’m…in bed,” and you have articulated exactly my own experience and sentiments. I have been practicing ashtanga on and off for about 4 years…off because I had several significant injuries, the last being a broken rib! While I recuperated (meaning no yoga for 6-8 weeks) I found that my body and mind seemed to calm. I walked my dog, stretched a little after, slept great, my stomach settled down, I felt great. When my rib healed, I contemplated returning to mysore and/or led classed but something in my just said: NO. So, I decided not to return to the shala but instead, to practice at home, on my own, at my pace, in my way, with no adjustments (yahoo!), and music. I so appreciate your willingness to share some of the less-than wonderful aspects of yoga practice and though I realize that everyone’s experience is individual and unique, it is nice for to have someone out there discussing yoga, its warts and all.

  9. clot77 says:

    I couldn’t agree more. I hate having to do savasana. I’d rather spend the time meditating. You are right on with changing things up in the practice as well. I think that primary and secondary series should be a guide and you should be able to mix things up. I also love the Jivamukti style sun salutations. Great post

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