Further Adventures in Ashtanga Home Practice

So. I did my dirty laundry this morning...

....during Ashtanga practice.

Now I will air it.


Usually when my yoga home practice lapses into an occasional one-armed Down Dog with the other hand scratching my cat's chin (Down-Dog!-Kitty-Rules! pose) or my Drishti becomes an overlong and vacuous gaze into space, I figure it's all part of what is discovered, what one "finds" on the mat—experiences of all kinds. No problem.

However, when I focus on the rhythm of a washing machine cycle or the hum of my iPhone on "mute"—as carefully as I ordinarily attend to my Ujjaiyi breath, I usually end up off the mat. A problem.

So I stopped, listened, gauging the stage of the wash cycle and if/when to hang the clothes outside, went downstairs, put my yoga clothes in a basket, and hung them outside on this lovely summer day.

Yoga clothes are related to my practice...

Now where was I?  It must be time for breakfast.

It's true I am describing the state of my home practice today—not yesterday and not tomorrow. 

I remind myself that these are merely distracted moments on (and off) the mat, despite the fact that for the past week, I have been yielding to the impulse to shorten and go easy with my practice. 

Did I say my dirty laundry?

Am I losing the energy to practice?

Is this the end of practice as I know it?

Have I really become THAT old? 

I doubt it.

Of a few things—I am more certain.

Tomorrow I will go to Lewis’ weekly led Ashtanga class. I will feel the support of a teacher and a group, enjoy a healthy sweat, leave happily, and remember how much I love this practice. 

I will do light home practice for a while. It's a scary prospect: l may lose my brand new—ever—biceps, become less limber, and worst of all—lose some poses. “I must move forward!” is zinging my brain.  

Once again I will come home to acceptance and surrender. Making Progress is a state of mind where I trade the wisdom, vitality, fluidity, and (often) joy of the moment for a conditioned idea of what the present and future should be. Sigh! It’s a sweet homecoming.

I will read what Rolf Naujokat says in the book Guruji:

But sometimes you see people, they just do half primary, they are so aware and in the moment with it and it's so beautiful, going in and out with the breath, and some are hurrying through advanced series and look like a horse with a carrot. Realization can happen with asana or without asana because it's already there.... The moment there is devotion toward God, the first step takes you there directly. ...Yoga is...a tool that removes the veil of dust off our inner being.

I will discover wisdom for students in Kino MacGregor's article about Ashtanga teachers in elephant, by substituting the word "students" for "teachers":

Ideally, Mysore Style teachers have gone through a kind of deeply individual journey where the obstacles to true practice have presented themselves and the teachers have used the practice itself to work through these difficulties. Sometimes people have a beautiful practice just because they are good at asana, but they have not experienced a healing journey through the practice.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/05/the-responsibility-of-mysore-style-ashtanga-yoga-teacher/

I will go to Richard Freeman’s book, The Mirror of Yoga and find:

So within our yoga practice, again an again we have to make a compassionate offering into the intelligence of our very own ego. We have to practice in such a way that we allow insight into the union of the body and mind, the inhale and the exhale…so that we experience our own merging into what we naturally perceive as our background—all that we see that is separate from ourselves.

I will continue to be Yogi Vagabhanda until I find “my” teacher or s/he finds me. I have been an itinerant Mysore yogi for about a year now (since my teachers Naomi Worth and John Bultman left town), and I've done dozens of workshops and classes on both coasts with just about every Ashtanga teacher you could name. Dear Teacher, I’m ready when you are!

I will continue my home practice. I will watch and see where it leads: cleaner laundry and the road to Mysore?

Continuing Adventures of Yogi Vagabhanda

Oh, the energy at Broome Street Temple! Though Eddie Sterne was away (during our NYC visit), the place vibrated with sincere and intense energy.

My first day there I practiced next to two women who were doing 2nd and 3rd Series respectively. I kept my eyes and mind focused on my own mat....while being blown away by their ability and at the same time feeling very supported by their fabulous energy in my own humble practice. Yes, humbling—in the best possible way—is a visit to Broome Street Temple!

I was able to practice there for four consecutive days. I did only First Series and honestly, it felt so great, each day going deeper into the experience of each pose—and feeling better. 

For a long time I believed I would never go beyond First Series and I was quite happy and comfortable with that. Then, in the space of one week three teachers including my main teacher at the time said I was "ready" to move on. 

But no! Wait! 

Then mental adjustments, transitions, and within no time, I felt the ambition of a yoga student hungry and in a hurry for more poses. PROGRESS (and let's face it-the fun of a new challenge), dontcha know?!  

After last week especially, know once again I can be happy with First Series forever. The desire to push forward is superseded by the contentment and exploration of going deeper and deeper. 

It's just a beautiful sequence of poses, and it was wonderful being in the midst of such focused energy.  
(Full disclosure - at home I still love mixing it up and doing pincha mayurasana, bakasana, etc.)

I was assisted several times by a fabulous little French woman. She just seemed to know exactly what to do with me and others, and gave lots of help with my lapsed back bend. (Home practice has had its slacker aspects.) 

Someone else assisting even lay with weight of her whole body on my back during forward bend (after back bends). I waited for the pain to start—but nothing! This same assist was what hurt my back the first time.

It would be a mistake to assume my back is completely "better,"  because I've had that belief proved wrong so many times this past year and a half. I'll just say when the circumstances are right, the room warm enough, etc there is no back issue. 

I also think I'm using my abdominal and other muscles more. 

That is, my muscles are developing a balance between using the obvious ones and ones less used, For example using abdominals to AND back muscles to lift from a forward bend. Okay and also what we've always been told.... using the BANDHAS and the breath! Surprise!! 

Next week: workshop with David Roche (he's 68!) in Charlottesville, VA and whatever I can find even remotely related to Ashtanga in Champaign-Urbana, IL.

Namaste

The Vagabond in Yogi Vagabhanda

Lots of yoga in California. 

In Encinitas, Sharath's short and powerful talks, demeanor, and classes were inspiring. He seems wonderfully at ease, natural, and unpretentious in his role as the head of the AYRI. I liked how accepting he and Saraswati were, while at the same time pushing us appropriately.  The counts in lowered plank of vinyasas seemed SO long and my body shook with the effort of maintaining some poses. All good! I'm looking forward to India in October!

From Encinitas we drove to Santa Barbara where I did a lazy (due entirely to my energy!) Mysore class at Ashtanga Yoga Santa Barbara. Most everyone from that shala it seemed had gone to Encinitas for the 2nd week of workshops. 

Then on to Menlo Park at Yoga Is Youthfulness. Did one led class and had the good fortune to have a Mysore class with David Roche the next day. It is great to work with someone who is close to one's age! The little contact I had impressed me with his ability to assist and his powers of observation. Hope to work with him again, (perhaps in Charlottesville in early June.)

During our silent retreat at Lake Tahoe, I practiced daily, surprisingly with several accomplished Ashtangis—in silence of course—before the first meditation at 7:30 AM. One day in particular blew my mind. Believe I had squeezed in the entire first series before meditation where the body vibrated and sang as mind emptied. 

Is this why yogis practice? More on that topic later. 

The air is "thin" at Tahoe's altitude so I was often out of breath with a pounding heart. Did a led class in Reno—still well above sea level—at Studio Eight with Carol, a disciple of Tim Miller. Loooong, slow counts and all of Miller's add-ins. Sometimes my breath was 3X as fast as hers. It was fabulous! 

Now on to Eddie Stern's in NYC. He'll be out of town while I'm there, but the energy there is always good. May try Guy Donahaye's shala in the East Village one day if I can find it.

Finally - one of my bugaboos/struggles since beginning this practice has been uthita hasta padangusthasana. Have long suspected that ringing in my ears has affected my balance and the one thing I think is age related. 

Below is part of a NY Times Q&A column written by an MD in his fifties and practitioner of Iyengar yoga. It seems to support my inner ear theory. Also below is link to the entire column which may have content of broader interest.

Namaste!

Yogi Vagabhanda 

Excerpt from NY Times article: advice-on-practicing-yoga-in-middle-age-part-1.

Q. I am 55 and began yoga two months ago. I go every other day, but I still have problems with the balance poses. I did not have these issues in my youth. Is it typical to have more balance issues as you get older? — AJT, Madison

A. Most arteries become more brittle, and are more easily injured, just as the skin gets more delicate with age. Shoulder stand, plow, and poses like the gate should be trimmed back from their extremes for safety after the age of 70. The vertebral artery actually figures in nourishing a number of neurological structures critical to good balance and coordination, so it is worth our care. Our sense of balance can also be degraded with age decreased sensitivity to changes in direction and momentum in the semicircular canals(offshoots of our hearing apparatus that detect changes in speed and direction of movement), decreased proprioception (lowered awareness of position and relative location) in the joints and in one's feet, and less acute vision. These are the three determinants of balance: the inner ears, proprioception and vision.

Do the precarious poses against or very close to a wall. The wall is a wonderful, supportive teacher.

MYSTERIES OF (BACK) PAIN EXPLORED

I particularly related to the fiery ball in the lower back of this altered captured image. 

Was compelled to add an orchid (shot at Asheville Orchid Show) on that hot spot.

 It neutralizes my attitude toward this pain.

My chiropractor used the words "back sprain." 

This time it started out as a localized pin prick pain  in the sacroiliac joint. The chiropractor adjusted it, and I felt somewhat better. The next morning when doing pincha mayurasana my leg went up at a slight angle. 

That did it. 

It's now been two weeks—and two weeks since full moon, a dangerous time for some of us. As the pain spread throughout my lower back, sitting was agonizing and when moving from certain positions, the pain took my breath away.

Armed with ibuprofen, I went to Charlottesville, for some classes with John and Naomi and for a 1/2 first series led class with Sharath and Saraswati. (Fun and it's amazing what one can do in the presence of some people!) 

Yogically immobilized since, I have done nothing more than a few sun salutations and stretches. The words crossing a threshold "that's fiendishly hard to recover from," (see below) are echoing in my brain, but I also know that fretting about losing flexibility, poses, injuries and whatever else—is futile. 

Anyway, each day it feels better. 
I've been running 3 miles daily, It feels great to do a  pain-free movement and enjoy the gifts of warm sunshine, fresh air, and baby deep-sleep. The article about overuse injuries cited below has also taken some of the mystery out of this almost two year long series of related injuries. It's also helped with accepting rather than fighting this injury. 

The big unknown is how the 5 days of classes with Sharath and Saraswati in Encinitas next week will go.


No idea!! I can know only the truth of each moment - and on that awareness I will trust and rely.

Wish me luck.

Namaste!

Here's some quotes from article about overuse yoga injuries by Nina Jackson that are congruent with my experience: 

Overuse injuries are more subtle in nature—the result of micro-trauma to the tendons, bones and joints that occurred over periods of time.  

It's the gradual, cumulative effect of many small actions—the straw that breaks the camel's back.

Overuse injuries are “creeping” ones because of their habit of sneaking up on you unawares. 

Before you know it, you’ve lost that fine balance and crossed a threshold that’s fiendishly hard to recover from.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2013/02/yoga-injuries-time-to-differentiate-nina-jackson/

Inner Teacher Inner Student

elephant Journal: "Finding My Inner Teacher"

Article is a development of post from 2/20/13

There is something so grounding in writing about an experience - even if the truth of it has passed before writing is finished. Slightly before the above article was published on-line, I started adding more forward bends to my home practice, returning more to the "true" First Series.

And then yesterday as if the "powers-that-be" were affirming my practice adaptations (written about below and elsewhere), +Ashtanga Yoga Worldwide (Greg Nardi) posted this link on FB, an essay by +Matthew Sweeney

+Evolution of Ashtanga Yoga 

Without one making a judgment about whether the changes in Ashtanga over the years are right or wrong, the essay makes a clear statement about what is going on within the lineage. Interesting. Truthful. 

Another article written by Zoe, The Unruly Ascetic also posted by Ashtanga Yoga Worldwide continues the discussion of "rules" and flexibility within the lineage. Zoe says there is an absence of dogma in Sharath's teachings in Mysore in her blog

+Tradition 

What there is—it seems is organic change. Sharath's instruction to students may be unique to each one. 

I am looking forward even more to studying in Mysore and have great respect for Sharath already. 

Also I remain delighted by the practice, its lead teachers, and its wise students. 

Hurrah!

Namaste!

fabric border design

I Confess

This blog was expanded and appeared in +elephant Journal

There are days when I feel like a peacock or a crow and love doing pincha mayurasana and bakasana—even though these poses have not officially been "given" to me. These and other asanas provide me the simple satisfaction of becoming better at them over time (and they are fun.) It is one of the reasons I practice.

However, my Ashtanga practice these days might be considered "unauthorized" for other reasons as well.

I do home practice five times a week and led primary once a week, my usual Mysore teachers having departed for a more Ashtanga friendly city. Originally, adaptations and omissions were necessary because I could not do forward bends without a lot of pain (QL problem, see below). Backbends on the other hand, felt good even if I couldn't do them right. I am referring to my stoppers, standing from urdhva dhanurasana and not collapsing in laghu vajrasana. Note: intermediate poses up to kapotasana were given to me and/or ok'd by various teachers, some well known and/or certified or authorized before back issues began. 

The adapted practice includes standing poses, part of primary including the difficult ones (for me)—navasana, bhujapidasana and 2nd series up to kapotasana, a pose I had abandoned early in the injury phase. Bakasana and pincha mayurasana were added on my own. I also add hip stretching on days when back is stressed so as not to "lose" kormasana and supta kormasana.

I confess that without a teacher, my practice—right or wrong—has become more inner directed, and I value the attendant awareness most of the time. There are many times when I yield to being a slug (wonder what "slug" is in sanskrit....) and feel defeated by the backbend rule and the little thunderbolt, neither of which seem to have "improved" in over a year. 

Backbends still make my back feel great though, and I am often filled with gratitude for the practice, compassion for my back...and my age. Believe when at last I have moved through the pain, I will have greater strength, renewed flexibility, an uninterrupted practice, and will have genuinely enjoyed—for a time—an adapted sequence. 

I confess finally that I'll be grateful too when a teacher appears to direct my practice in the way s/he deems appropriate.

Namaste

See link below: a young yogi's back improves/heals with 2nd series backbends, etc.
http://theconfluencecountdown.com/2013/02/24/the-mystery-of-back-pain/

The author in Ladakh, India a few years ago with an important message
for  Westerners in general and Indian drivers!

Getting Closer

Tim Miller's blog (reposted below) begins to explore what it means to be an older practitioner of Ashtanga yoga: "I’m finding that 61 is not that much different from 51 (although it is pretty different from 26). "  Perhaps facetiously, he writes that he has been "gravitating toward 'Ashtanga for Seniors' program...." Though he adds, "I’m not sure there is much magic in that."

Miller's first paragraph delineates two types of older practitioners - those who have been practicing for most of their adult lives and those who began Ashtanga when they were older. 

I happen to belong to the latter category, and it should be noted I started this practice when older than Miller is now.  He can look back over his years of Ashtanga practice; I cannot. In three years I have (so far) not noted any decline in ability, because I have little to compare it to. 

Also, I'm not yet sure what to chalk up to age. I only SUSPECT age plays a role in a certain fragility (my back), slowness in "getting" certain poses (ie stand-up from backbend), and poor balance (when compared to younger Ashtangis).

Slow to get an asana - compared to what? In my twenties and in yoga's "early days," I attended a few weeks of a Hatha (what most yoga was called then) Yoga class in Berkeley, California. Recall being shown mayurasana and easily moving into it. I could always do padmasana and touch my toes to my head in a backbend (but cannot touch it now), and in later occasional doses of Kundalini and Ashtanga, I never engaged much beyond a weekly class. 

Before my current Ashtanga practice - I never had much physical strength and had never been challenged or committed as I truly am now. Sometimes wish Ashtanga had found me at the same time as Tim Miller. "I coulda been a contender," an inappropriate boxing(!) metaphor (from "On the Waterfront")  and way off the appropriate mark (I know, I know)—sometimes crosses my mind. It's a fleeting and useless idea, and anyway approximately 35  years ago when Miller began studying Ashtanga, I was studying South Indian Classical Dance, Bharata Natyam in Nepal. Why Nepal and not Chennai is another story.... 

What I am wanting since Tim's blog is to hear from other yoga practitioners. What is your story of change related to yoga? If you are an older practitioner, what are you noticing? What are you thinking, feeling? Older and younger what are our common issues and differences? Yoga practitioners, if you are reading this blog, please respond. 

Tim Miller blog of Tuesday January 8th

This past Sunday was the 35th anniversary of my first yoga class at the old “Yoga Church”, half a block from my house on La Veta Avenue in Encinitas. I had been walking by the Church the day before and stopped to find out the schedule from a guy working in the garden who introduced himself as Nate. Nate said, “In two months you can be as limber as a gymnast.” Intrigued by the promise of Gumby-like flexibility I showed up for class the next day at 5pm, ready to do some painful and exotic stretching. The stretching did turn out to be very exotic, but not particularly painful. The intelligent progression of the practice and precise integration of breath and movement was like magic for my body, mind, and soul. My body felt like it had come back to life--some kind of natural intelligence had been awakened in it. My mind became very quiet, attentive and receptive. Best of all was feeling reconnected to my own soul—that peaceful, wise, and loving presence within that felt like home. It was a profound and life-changing experience, providing me with a much-needed path to navigate through the jungle of human existence that I had been very lost in. Over the past 35 years, the practice has rewarded me with many blessings of both a personal and professional nature. Never was there anyone who needed yoga as much as me. I was a walking advertisement for “Unfulfilled Potential”—depressed, lethargic, toxic, and lacking in self-esteem. Not one date in the 15 months I had lived in Encinitas. It was like I had a big sign on my forehead that said “Loser”. I was pathetic. Then, in the space of an hour and a half, everything changed for me--my life did a 180-degree turn and everything began to unfold in a magical way. I started feeling healthy and, trusting the intelligence of my body, I radically changed my diet and personal habits as a way of facilitating my detoxification. With my new- found self-discipline I began to feel much better about myself and began to attract good things into my life—like women! Suddenly I had lots of dates. Obviously there was some alchemy at work that was affecting my life on every level. I began delving into spiritual texts again after a long hiatus. It seemed that I was tapping into some great Universal Intelligence that was redirecting my life in the most positive of ways. Life was fun, exciting, and new for the first time since I was a kid.

When I think back on this time I get a little wistful, remembering all the amazing growth, self- discovery, and joy provided by the practice. At this time of year, I find myself wanting to find that kind of magic in the practice again. Is this possible after 35 years? Physically, of course, I am no longer 26 and find myself sometimes gravitating towards an “Ashtanga for Seniors” program to address my specific needs, but, I’m not sure there is much magic in that. I must admit that I feel the best when I am able to muster a strong practice. To celebrate my anniversary on Sunday I practiced the Second Series (which I do every Sunday). My body is not as flexible as it once was, or as strong or thin, and I find I have a few more aches and pains as I approach 62, but I do my best and the practice still leaves me in a magical place of peace and clarity. There is no denying the physical reality of aging, but at the same time there is a considerable mental component to it all. I’m finding that 61 is not that much different from 51 (although it is pretty different from 26). If I can continue to take good care of myself, stay active, not get too fat, and think young, I hope to squeeze in another 35 years of practice. When I first met Pattabhi Jois in 1978 he had just turned 63 and seemed remarkable youthful. As it turned out for him, he was just getting warmed up.

temple near Mysore

We had been talking a lot lately about us or my going back to Mysore for a few months. Then (11/24) in Lewis' First Series led class, there was a shift. Again. Sixtyni Yogini turned after one (!) Sun Salutation to throw an unneeded layer behind her mat. It's a casual movement most of us do almost every day of practice after warming up. 

My back muscles wrenched and locked and nonchalance was arrested mid-movement. The left side -aaahooooow, the QL?—not again! Foolishly (in hindsight) stayed for the class and tears skidded down my face and neck during Savasana. I hurt but that wasn't the reason for the salt, nor was self-pity. It was a sense of relief and mental (not muscular!) release. Knew I would have to re-examine my (ego or something else?) relationship to this practice. 

Just a few days before, my sculpture class had a metal pour, and I had lifted a 50# bucket of bronze and carried it from van to classroom (SY is invincible, right?). Then, weekend before there were those intense 3 days - mornings and/or afternoons during David Garrigues workshop. 

A very stressed quadratus laborum. 
The same muscle that's given me grief for about a year. 

Know I must listen to my body. I know also I felt stiff and clunky that morning before class. Know I cannot fight truth.

But I do wonder:

Wouldn't anyone's back be screwed up after stressing one's back as I did the week before that class? 

Is the back fragile because of age? 

Would this have happened at age 30?  

Is humility the main thing I am learning from this practice? Am I not also learning acceptance?

Am I back to square 2 or 3 from a year ago? 

(Answer I think: no, the healing chiropractor, the bed, and experience will - I hope - support a speedy recovery)

Is the "I-can-do-almost-anything" self - being forced to let go?

metta

Goddess Padmavati, contemporary Kalamkari painting on cotton, 52" x42" (from Exotic India web site)

The Goddess Padmavati has a complex history. She is also an incarnations of Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, light, wisdom, fortune, fertility, generosity and courage and the embodiment of beauty, grace and charm.  The image was so interesting - had to add it - yoga related or not.

A few days ago I spent hours working on this post, which to my shock disappeared into the either with not a trace of the various "saves" I had performed. Wasted thoughts? A lesson in appreciating a moment and its unique expression - that can never be captured in the same way again? Words not meant to be shared? Don't know.

So here again is my take on Tim Feldman workshop (unique to today.) He is - in my opinion - one of the very best teachers. He pushes hard and relentlessly to get one to new or more perfect places. He's clear. He's honest. He expects and gets the best. One always feels his underlying compassion. This time he helped me with laghu vajrasana and backbend. Again, I felt guided by his compassionately demanding energy and went farther than ever before.

Then there was Charlottesville and classes with John and Naomi, now both authorized(!) These two are teachers with whom I have worked most consistently. They know this Sixtyni's moves (and self) inside and out. They demand a lot, and don't give a damn about how old I am. (They are both fabulous.) John told me to put my energy into standing up from backbend rather than on 2nd Series poses. And that is mostly what I've been doing....though honestly, I can't help working on intermediate or primary poses that are challenging and thus, fun....

This weekend it's Atlanta and David Garrigues workshop.

The back is mostly better. Feldman talked about an injury* of his that was spinal, and the journey he went through to heal, finally ending up with a regular MD and MRI's. My own has been muscular and so far - I've never seen an MD about it. Attribute healing to patience, the new bed, and continuing to practice over the  months. Am almost back to the yogini I was a year ago..... No, we can never go back, even if it's just to recapture what one wrote and vaporized a few days ago. Never the same. Makes me expand with joy.....

*Tim's wife Kino MacGregor on injury: Kino on long term injury

Ganesh Playing Sitar, painting on fabric 

(from Exotic India website)

Heading to Charlottesville, Virginia where UVA has set up a Contemplative Studies program featuring  Ashtangi John Campbell. My Asheville teachers John and Naomi are working with him - I believe as assistants  - and Naomi is taking classes in Religious Studies. Cool!

Report of this trip, the Tim Feldman workshop of a couple of weeks ago, to come. And as always, a report on the troublesome back and thoughts about an over 60 years old's body/mind response to this practice....and life.

In the meantime from Richard Freeman:

When we practice the yoga of observation and we pay close attention to something, there is a residue of clarity and relief that is discernable in the breath and is actually felt in the body. It is similar to the sensations you might experience when you have been struggling to understand something and then finally "get it," or the feeling you have when you have been deceiving yourself about something and then at last admit the truth; it is a feeling of relief, openness, cleanliness, and joy. We experience this when we pay close attention to things as they arise because we are directly perceiving, rather than distorting out observation by imagining that things are the way we expect or want them to be. 

Hanuman Healing*

The above photo is a Hanuman image in honor of Ashtanga Master, Tim Miller. The Mt. Shasta retreat with him was fabulous. Mornings started with Pranayama and were followed either by First Series led or Mysore style class. Then, breakfast outdoors in the quiet town of McCloud, CA. Each afternoon a hike culminated in a swim in an icy to cool mountain lake. (Tim claimed this was great for any soreness/inflammation we were experiencing!) Late afternoons were Q&A periods followed by a amazing dinners that pleased vegans, vegetarians, and omnivores equally! 

cairn on Mt. Shasta hike

I was still having problems with my back, and Tim and his assistant, Leigha came up with a combination of First and Second Series poses for Mysore practice that were perfect (and similar to what I had been doing on my own). Tim said he had had the same quadratus laborum muscle injury. He knew exactly how to adjust me, exactly—with strength and certainty!  Do believe he has inherited gifts of the lineage and may be channeling Patabhi Jois. 

Miller is a regular guy who radiates calm, good energy, and compassion. Think he is about 62. Leigha implied that he has had a lot of injuries (IMHO this guarantees compassion.) His voice quivers sometimes (not sure what that is about and it never came up in talks with Leigha). He seems both dynamic in the spirit of Hanuman (see below) and vulnerable. Maybe the voice quiver conveys fragility. Anyway, doubt he knows what a powerful teacher he is.

It was not at all a young (20's, 30's) group. There were several close to Sixtyni Yogini in age! Several in their 50's and most were near or in their 40's. One Ashtangi who looked 30 but was 40-something proposed the Ashtanga Age Theory: all Ashtangis look 10 years younger than they are. I agree. Start asking Ashtangis their ages. We rest our case!

Lots of help with the stubborn laghu vajrasana. Backbends also. There's a thing that Tim and his assistants do to aid standing up from back bend. While in the back bend, they press on your hips and tell you to push against their hands. Then they put pressure on your upper chest and like a magnet being pulled, you stand up! It's a magic magic touch! 

Also, this was not a silent retreat. I worried that talking would dim the intensity and get us/me all caught up in social games. In fact, it was just different. I enjoyed getting know a few wonderful people by way of talk and during the silence of practice), and it turned out fine.

After the retreat my back has been much improved. That is, pain in the QL muscle  much diminished. In addition to the retreat, here is why —

• The Trials of the Princess and the Pea: between the last post and this I bought and  took back a temper-pedic and got a gel mattress because I thought my back wanted more firmness. Now I think the temper-pedic was really helping. Going to give the gel some more time before going through the $$ and hassle - big hassle - of trading in or selling the gel and getting another temper-pedic. 
• One thing is now certain, the old bed played a big part in the exacerbation/slow healing of my back/QL muscle. I'd wake up not refreshed but stiff with that nagging pain above my left hip. It reminds me of getting a stiff neck and continuing  to sleep on it wrong. Make no mistake: a bed and pillow play a big part in healing muscular and spinal issues and in sleep.

No one has ever suggested that age was responsible for my back issues - before last weekend at a workshop in Atlanta - Fie!! 

Indeed, my body has been and is changing. It's more than just losing quite a bit of weight. There are major differences in strength and flexibility. And more subtle muscular ones. I think my body/muscles/spine have to pass through some stuff (like back or hamstring connection issues) to fully release, and each person has their own unique passages. Flexibility is interesting—while it may appear that I am and always have been bendy—I think things are letting go on a much deeper muscular level. 

And in ways and levels other than muscular? Maybe that too.

That's the Mt. Shasta report. (Tim Feldman workshop is up next in Asheville.) I am very grateful to Tim Miller and his assistants for their compassionate and healing energies.

Metta

* "Hanuman is a god of physical culture, who possesses great health and amazing strength, wisdom, wit and supernatural powers. He gives courage, hope, knowledge, intellect and devotion. He possesses great healing powers by the means his own natural health and strength and the knowledge of medicinal herbs."
- from Hanuman Center:  /http://www.hanumancenter.com/




link to Tim Miller's blog:  http://timmiller.typepad.com/blog/