Why is ashtanga so tough? …maybe it’s not as tough as we think!

Mysore classes at our yoga shala at Nūn Center.

Most of us want to start a yoga practice so that we can grow stronger and be more flexible but unwind and find time and space in our busy lives. So, the last thing we probably want to hear when we are signing up for yoga classes is that we need to commit to a near impossible regiment of daily yoga practice.

As a mom of a small child, I now realize how that can be a very big ask for most. It’s taken time (and this is a continuing process) for me to find equilibrium between yoga and motherhood, these two giant forces in my life. I’ve had to make some adjustments–both physically and mentally. But here are some thoughts on why I think this method does in fact work for me as a mother and, actually, as a human, as well.

First of all: there is no actual “ashtanga police.” This idea is largely made up, partly a joke, like the Bogey Man to keep the yoga kiddos in line. And while there are those who take up the informal mantle, be assured that there is no actual centralized body that polices any irregularities in the method. Mostly, the essential bits of ashtanga yoga are preserved through an honor system, the efficacy of the practice itself creates trust in the method (and also the teacher). For those who stick to the rules long enough, consistently enough, the benefits are self-evident. And, so, for the most part, things are passed down the way they are because they work.

I see the ashtanga method a lot like the English language, which has a grammatical order to it, but also a lot of exceptions. The method is centered and steady but also flexible like the yoga that it represents. That’s not to say that guidelines are not important, they are there to keep things from crumbling into chaos, but they also bend when necessary.

Second: We can practice as much or as little as we are able. We often call the method after the city in India where it was developed, Mysore. But the actual thing is called “self-practice.” which means it belongs to us, practitioners. We animate the practice. We can decide how much time we can devote to it. If you ask me as a yoga teacher, I will still tell you that I recommend up to 5 days a week (many will say 6). But the reality is that it’s up to each individual how many days to practice; ultimately, whatever one can manage is the perfect amount. (If you are a beginner, don’t worry, self practice doesn’t mean you are on your own, one to one help is on hand and actually personalized).

Third: the way in which we practice is up to us, whether its with earnestness and gravitas or with ease and lightheartedness. Usually, a combination of the two would be ideal, but as we don’t live in an ideal world, we are allowed to practice in a way that is appropriate for us. If you can’t do a long sequence, then just do standing and finishing postures, is that’s still too much, then just sun salutations and just breathe through the three final seated postures. I’ve had students come in to class and they just can’t do any of it and so they lay down to rest. Everything is practice.

So, if it’s as easy as that, why doesn’t it always feel that way? I’ve met a few special yoga practitioners who always managed to keep the practice light and breezy. I used to always think of them as the anomaly, they seemed little affected by the mania of mysore, they were content to flow without too much effort, they were willing to go the distance but didn’t feel the need to kill themselves doing it. The rest of us… well, maybe you see where I’m going here. Human nature comes to play and so we strive. But the practice is just a mirror. If it feels tough, perhaps because it is simply reflecting back our toughness or the intensity of our expectations.

That’s not to say that the practice isn’t difficult. It can be, and there are definite moments where particular challenges can come up. But many of the challenges come at the time when we are ready. Sometimes we don’t believe our own readiness and so that feels tough mentally. Sometimes, we struggle to get it just right. But the “toughness,” that’s something we often bring into the practice ourselves.

This yoga practice, it’s amazing, it’s a wonderful series of postures, each one preparing us for the next one. It has numerous physical and mental benefits. It is a kind of fitness for the mind, body and soul. And when we start form the beginning, we work in a way that suits each student. It’s not tough. It’s not easy either. It’s thoughtful. And it works!

Classes restart after Eid holidays on Monday, May 1. Our regular schedule is Monday to Thursday mysore style self-practice, 7:30 to 10:30am with led classes on Fridays 8am and 9:30am. All levels are welcome! We are having a 2 week intro starting May 15, which will be led by Yasmine Seoud, who has been assisting for us now for a glorious year!

YOGA IN-DEPTH MENTORSHIP LAUNCHED

I’ve gotten my fair share of emails and messages from both my own students and practitioners who don’t study with me asking for advice regarding training to be a teacher. I used to dread getting them, writing back with my honest feedback and feeling the slight awkwardness that ultimately I did not give a satisfactory answer. No, I don’t know so and so doing so and so TTC in fill-in-the-blank-idyllic-location. And, yes, I do think that if one wants to teach the traditional method of ashtanga yoga, that one should go to Mysore and study from the source.

Over the years, I have also had to reconcile my own unsettled feelings. I too, like many new teachers, took a TTC way before I was ready to teach. I’m glad I did it because it put me in the field of a great teacher and a great group of practitioners, which helped me get on track to developing a self-practice. Later, I assisted at another TTC for few years, which I don’t regret because it helped finance my early trips to Mysore and I also learned a lot from them. I have also been through my vigilantly–ironically so–anti teacher training phase citing my teacher’s ire for the commodification of yoga teaching. But I’ve also wondered, though, if it is enough to simply practice before your teacher, the way we qualify for the blessing to teach in Mysore.

Nowadays, I think there is a time and place for everything. And there are just so many roads leading towards yoga that it’s simply easier to celebrate them rather than being overly critical–emphasis on the “overly” because it is also ok to be critical. But, honestly, since I feel less dis-ease about it, I get approached a lot less on the topic and when I do I generally don’t feel bothered.

I am all for repopulating the planet with yoga teachers, however, I question the western mindset that often lead many down this path initially (myself, included). When we advance in our yoga practice, we look to the next level, and the next level for some appears to be teaching. And thus, we look for ways to become a teacher–and now there is a whole industry catering to this one desire.

What if we were simply more focused on being better students? What if we committed time, energy and attention to the daily study of yoga? What if we dove into it without expectation or desire for gain–which is kind of one of the defining factors of yoga in the first place? What if we trusted the teaching enough to lead us? Could we simply love the work without any end goal or certificate of completion? The study of yoga is endless. That’s what makes learning it so juicy, the nectar of the teaching just keeps on flowing. So long as you surrender to being a student! And, believe me, studying yoga will lead you somewhere and if you are meant to teach, if that is truly your karma, it will catch up with you.

Yoga In-Depth is my attempt to answer these questions. When I look back at the various yoga learning experiences that have enriched my life, whether it was working at a TTC or assisting in a mysore program or studying with my teacher in India, mentorship was present through all of these experiences and was a key to my yoga studies. I believe in this way of learning. I am so excited to start this new phase for our program. And it’s a real honor to go in this journey with a group of really dedicated practitioners.

If you are a dedicated ashtanga student with an established practice who is ready for more, please reach out to we@nuncenter.com and they can send you more information on the Yoga In-Depth Mentorship. We also have a ZOOOM Q&A on August 15, 12n. Message Nūn and they’ll send you the Zoom Invite. See you then!

ZOOM-ing along: teaching in the time of corona.

Most of the participants appear before the individual talks. From the Friends of Ashtanga Instagram Page.

As covid19 cases rise here in Cairo and elsewhere, we are reminded of the fragility of life. While we aren’t experiencing any closures here in Egypt (and, hopefully, will continue to be open!), I thought this would be a good time to share my presentation for the Friends Of Ashtanga online conference that happened back in September about what I learned from teaching online.

For the teachers, students, and programs who have had to go back online or have stayed online this entire time, hats off to you. I know many students have decided to go at it alone or have parked their practice in the meantime. I just want to say that there are so may benefits to live instruction, even if its happening through a screen. AND If you can continue to come to class, no matter what format, do so, because your presence right now can really help keep a program alive.

When we paused live sessions here in Cairo mid-March, and moved classes online, I would never have imagined that I’d still be teaching on ZOOM in September. Six months—a crazy amount of time for life to be stalled so.  The pandemic may have thrown us off our course, but it unified us also. Being globally connected has never been more apparent as we watched the news report of the spread of this novel coronavirus, first in China, and then in Europe, and then: the world. Over these months, we have connected over our worry, our suffering, our hopes, also. And we have connected by overcoming the obstacles that threaten to disconnect us.

When the WHO declared that covid19 was a pandemic, many mysore programs around the world, including my own, announced that they were migrating sessions online. In a matter of days, my Instagram feed was full of Zoom screenshots of students practicing, each in their individual 2-dimensional boxes—it was bizarre and unsettling how we all jumped online so quickly.

It seemed counter-culture, yoga online. We all love the potency of a room in flow, the steam rising off of moving bodies, that meditative hum of the collective breath. What is ashtanga if not a live, tactile, sensory experience, with students thriving from hands-on assistance?

Yoga, the Great Unifier

Now, in hindsight, I look at the movement online as a great example of yoga, we bent and adapted, we regained our balance and steadiness, we took a deep breath and just got on with it, one day at a time with as little drama as possible.

We went online because we needed the practice and we needed each other. Those early days of the pandemic were both surreal and extraordinary. I Facetime-d with my parents and sisters in the US and in Asia with uncharacteristic regularity. I took led class on Zoom with Sharathji in India through Miami Life Center. I chanted to Ganesha with Eddie Stern on Instagram Stories. I took part in a small online festival celebrating Yoga in Africa. And then, there’s today, Friends of Ashtanga—each of these are beautiful stories of connection. 

The mainstay over these six months, however, was—and, is—mornings with my students. Our small community gathered to breathe through uncertainty and change, we stuck together to maintain some sort of normal. As a new mom, these mornings were a healthy anchor for life at home with a newborn.

Virtual Mysore

We discovered together that the mysore format translates surprisingly well online. As individual practitioners, we are used to independently exploring asana, which we already know by heart. Our understanding of drishti and concentration, helps us move our attention inwards, thus keeping us from getting distracted, whether it’s from the glitches from the device or the disembodied voice dispensing instructions to a virtual class room.

Benefitting Students

Being online, allowed students to safely move their practices into their personal spaces, into their actual lives while continuing to feel supported by a teacher. Prior to covid19, only a few students in Cairo could manage a home practice. The tendency was that if they didn’t make it to class, they didn’t manage to practice. These online offerings, I believe, are home practices with training wheels, easing students into comfortably practicing on their own.

It’s also been a great opportunity to practice with softness, kindness, and mindfulness. There has been little rushing, little of that frenetic energy that comes with the desire to catch up with everyone else. Somehow, we all understand, no one is going anywhere, we are just here to practice.

Teacher Online

I believe more than ever in the potency of this practice, that the experience is transcendent. Teaching online really works. Take away the expectation that practicing with a teacher comes with a good press, twist or tug, what we have online is actually closer to how practicing with Sharathji in India is really like, where adjustments are sparse, but the presence of a teacher is plenty.

Even without the assists, students have moved along beautifully. I have witnessed students become stronger during this time, more flexible, more light. Which makes sense because progress is always a side effect of consistent practice

It’s been liberating doing away with the expectation that it’s my “job” to take students physically deeper. We all know that digging deep is the responsibility of each practitioner. Studying online reinforces that our practice is a personal journey, and that there is a healthy amount of space between teacher and student.

The conversation is also different online. Take away that reliance on the language of touch, words have weight and people listen more. And while I’m not suggesting that verbal assists should replace physical adjustments, I think these days have demonstrated that we can communicate the practice in plain and clear ways. (And while there is a beauty of the to allowing the experience unfold through the body, touch and adjustments can be imprecise and inappropriate, relying a lot on inference.)   

Mostly, I found as a teacher that my big contribution is simply being there, opening the space, keeping it going, observing, calling out what I see, which is easier when everyone’s practice is tidily laid out in front of you. Being seen has been so important.

In Conclusion

In a way, none of these experiences that I am sharing are out of the ordinary, yoga has always been a great unifier, ashtanga communities have always provided practitioners an outlet to work through their tensions and anxieties, the ashtanga practice has always been a place to find softness and support, and the teaching has always been more energetic than physical. However, personally, prior to coronavirus, it was hard to see these things.

I still miss–and look forward to–in-person teaching in that breathing heaving room–among many, many, MANY other things. But I don’t necessarily want things to go back to EXACTLY how they were. I believe that these times have taught us to think outside the box (yes, inside the box too!), they have challenged us to be flexible and innovative while reminding us that essence of practice exists in whatever space it is allowed to flourish.

And We Are Back

Classes are back in session here in Cairo. We are happy to get things started this September. It’s a full month.

On top of our regularly schedules classes, Sunday to Thursday 7-10:30am and our two led classes on September 14 and 28 at 8:30am, we are starting our second Ashtanga Yoga Introduction Course, a 4-week course that includes 3 workshop weekend classes and unlimited Mysore classes for the month. It’s a great program for starting or refreshing your yoga practice.

We’ve added “Mysore+”, additional self practice sessions on September 7 and 21, these classes are for quiet exploration of your practice. I will be available in the room while self practicing myself. It will be a nice time to practice together.

Mysore Zamalek classes are at Nūn Center, 4 Shafik Mansour, Zamalek, Cairo. We accept drop ind from experienced practitioners, please contact us to make an appointment if you are a new student. Our email is mysorezamalek@gmail.com.

The Thread of Practice

Parampara, the unbroken line of lessons from teacher to student, is one of the most striking things about our yoga practice. It is a thread that runs through the practice, that holds it together. Many question this, especially these days. But to say that this has no part in modern day Ashtanga yoga, I think, would be a step in the wrong direction. While I often have long stretches of solo self-practice, I could not do this without a teacher.

Is this system perfect? Well, is our practice perfect? It is all just a process. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving and innovating.

As I take time off from teaching my own students for the next couple of months to visit my own teacher at the source of Ashtanga yoga in Mysore, India this thread becomes ever more present, ever more felt, ever more experienced.

Yoga becomes alive in such learning spaces. I learned long ago that I had to give up my aspirations to teach. Period. To be a student is one of the greatest gifts, to be in a position to receive, to learn, to grow, and to be guided when undergoing such a precious journey is such a blessing. And while I feel the separation between myself and those who I meet daily on the mat, I know that for now it is time for me to learn, to nourish my own practice, and that the long arms of these two months ahead will extend far longer than one might imagine.

Mysore Zamalek is closed from today till early August. We look forward up restarting with you then!

Practice Self Forgiveness

img_5515

Photo by Michael Tutaan, Boracay, Philippines

The great irony, perhaps, of diving deeper into this physical practice is how metaphysical it becomes, the more advanced the posture, the more subtle the mind and the heart. How, for example, taking one’s leg behind the head is less about the openness of hips, the ability to internally rotate the leg while lifting the center and, with it, the back–though all fundamentally a part of the process–than it is about cultivating patience and perseverance.

Once in a while, I ask myself, what have I learned? What is new, especially when there are no new postures to investigate or obsess about? It has been two years, almost, since I’ve studied with my teacher in Mysore and my practice seems to be greatly about establishing a steady rhythm, building strength and getting comfortable. Some days are tougher than others, I must admit, developing strength seems to have come with loosing a certain amount of bendiness. And establishing a life in one place, as I have done this year in Egypt, comes with an entirely different set of challenges that sometimes get in the way of the smooth flow of practice.

For me, I think one of the greatest lessons of cozying up to the intermediate series these last two years is learning to forgive myself.  I may have not overcome my own expectations, they creep up on me still while on the mat (not to mention off the mat!), but it’s never so hard as before. Mostly, because I’m not as hard on myself as I was before. Often, I find myself humorously observing the struggles, the days I ate pasta and how that feels in titthibhāsana, the days I can’t get a good grip on the mat in karandavāsana and fall, the days I get on the mat late and I’m so tired that I’m practically crawling through the practice. It’s all ok, I can’t always be my best physically though I can still put my best effort forward based on the conditions that I am given and that I allow myself.

We cause so much undue suffering with unforgiving thoughts: why can’t I do it, what’s wrong with me, why am I not good enough? Such fluctuations of the mind are debilitating, they stall us, not just mentally but physically too, they keep us from moving forward. And thus the relationship between the mind and the body continues. So, instead, let’s be kind to ourselves, let’s be sweet and also honest. Be honorable, admit when it’s hard but do not harden because of it. Forgiveness in itself is a deep and fulfilling practice.

Ashtanga Yoga and Ramadan

Last year, I decided to teach through the first 3 weeks of Ramadan. It was the first time any of my trips to Egypt coincided with this period. I hadn’t planned for it, but was happy to have a new teaching experience.

I had been told that it would be different, a few teacher-friends based here advised me on what worked best for them and their students during the month-long period where practicing Muslims fasted from sun-up to sundown.

I scheduled classes with a bit of trepidation, a shorter morning class as usual for non-fasters and another afternoon session before the breaking of the fast, iftar. It wasn’t my ideal to break up our already-small group and work the extra hours, but, in my gut, I felt that traditional ashtanga practice would suit Ramadan, that it could be a good compliment to the season as a meditation and as a physical support system.

In truth, the entire rhythm of Cairo changes during this time, the breaking of the fast determines the working and living hours of its 9.5 million residents, regardless of one’s faith. Energy consumption becomes a serious issue among fasters, but non-fasters too take on some of the rigorous social schedule dictated by meal times. Also, revised office hours creates time, particularly in the hours before Iftar. The clubs and bars cease to serve alcohol and everything quiets down or turns inwards.. A totally different energy and pace blankets the city.

Teaching during Ramadan last year reminded me how important it is to be flexible as a teacher; and reinforced my belief that the mysore-style self-practice is designed to be flexible itself, how it can give students the space to tune into their personal needs, and to practice in a way that is nourishing and safe.

In the end, I really fell in love with the experience. I’m happy to say that the students did as well.  The afternoons were hours of exploration through which I could experience Ramadan through my students. Together, through the practice, we tuned into the body, worked with the various phases that comes with fasting, from the lightheadedness and fatigue early on to the lightness of body and bursts of energy that came later.

I saw how the initial effects of fasting effected practitioners and we were careful to respect and honor them especially during the first week of practice. We focused on a softer breath and slow steady movement, careful not to push bodies. We approached postures, like standing forward-bends, carefully to avoid dizziness. We spoke about the yamas and how important it is to practice with non-violence, with honestly, with non-attachment, in a way that we aren’t stealing from ourselves and in a way that we are using our energy wisely.  I encouraged students to honestly tune into their available energy reserves, stopping early on in their practice if they felt low energy. With new students, we learned the sequence slowly, pretty much as we would do in the regular Mysore sessions.

By the second week, students were over the headaches caused by caffeine withdrawal. People were more used to breathing after a day of no water. The body was more used to fasting. Students could do more and proceeded further than the week before. By the third week, students were actually light and lithe, often more so than before Ramadan started. The practice was energetic but also stable and focused.

I saw the effects of the practice in a concentrated form with a group of people on a particular spiritual journey. How the Mysore practice, so often villainized as being a difficult-hard-as-nails sort of yoga method, could be used as a gentle tool for personal introspection as well as a means for students to condition their mind and body, developing flexibility and strength steadily over a period of time.

In a week, Ramadan will start. I’m looking forward once again to teaching those hours before iftar, on top of the morning sessions, experiencing the shifts and learnings that come with it, which inevitably make us not just better students, but hopefully better people in the process.

Mysore Ramadan Schedule (May 27-June 24)
Sunday to Thursday
8:30-10:30am
4:30-6:30pm
Month Pass: 1600LE/ 1 Week Pass 550LE
We accept Drop-In Students who have existing practices already 150LE
(If you are a beginner to the practice, you will need roughly an hour and a month pass)

NŪN CENTER is located at 4 Shafik Mansour, Zamalek. Call or email us for questions or to book for Ramadan: 0122 398 0898 / we@nuncenter.com. http://www.nuncenter.com

Practice of Pieces 

 

 

 

Should you come to a “mysore” self-practice class with me for the first time, I’ll most likely ask you to close your eyes and breathe. First, with your ordinary breath. And from there, we start to extend each inhale and exhale, sipping the air from our nostrils until we create a soft sound, which slowly heats the body. We’ll probably do a few sun salutations, maybe some standing postures, but the real lesson on that first day is breathing. It is the most basic unit of learning in the traditional ashtanga method.

Over time, we introduce other units: the engagement of our core muscles or energy locks called bandha. vinyasa or movement-breath, and various postures that condition and open the body differently. On a more subtle level, there are lessons in focus and awareness, effort and conservation of energy, dedication, devotion and self-love–all these units are actually inexhaustible, we return to them over and over, each time more in-depth. Slowly but surely the lessons expand over time.

When we start, it’s a little like learning something in pieces and it’s hard to see the big picture. Many get impatient or frustrated that they can’t see where it’s all going. People get bored of the pace, or angry at the level of concentration we often ask from beginners, or afraid of the level of commitment we ask from all students.

I ask new students to commit for the month, recommending them to practice the 5 teaching days, at the barest minimum 3. And here, in Egypt, I’ve actually seen people physically recoil at my suggestion as if I were some yoga sadist. Yes, I do know life is hard here, that Cairo traffic is ridiculous, that a morning practice is counterflow the nocturnal rhythms of the city. I totally understand. And yet…

I also know that people want to be healthier, they want to have better habits, they want to be more flexible and strong, they want to have peace and focus. So I ask anyway, daring aversion to such structure because I know that this is a formula for change that really works. For those who practice regularly, the pieces come together relatively quickly, and the yoga practice becomes wholesome, full and giving.

As I approach March and another month of teaching here in Cairo, the questions I want to ask from new and old students are the following: Are you willing to show up for yourself on a regular basis? Are you willing to breathe and move, everyday learning something new about the practice and maybe about yourself, everyday recognizing that you are this amazing creature that can get stronger and more flexible not just in the body but in the mind and heart too? Are you willing to stand before the difficulties so that we can piece the practice together?

 

Regular Teaching continues here at Nūn Center:
Mysore Mornings is Sunday to Thursday, 7-10:30am.
Evenings are Monday & Wednesday, 8-9:30pm.

We have some special programs at the start of this month at Nūn:
Full Led Primary
Friday, March 4, 9-10:30pm

Ashtanga Yoga: Tool For Change
Saturday, March 4, 11am-1pm

Inner Dance, Sound and Movement Meditation
Saturday, March 4, 6-8pm