Ever Wonder...?
July 2021
Mary Taylor
Impermanence, Trust, and Emptiness
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Mary Taylor
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Mary Taylor
Q: The troubled period we are living in matches descriptions of the Kali Yuga. I find the Yoga practice particularly well designed to facilitate the journey despite the challenges. I was wondering if the seers provided some advice, guidelines, or special practices specific to the Kali Yuga. Also, I read that practice and learning were accelerated during this time. Any truth to that?
The Kali Yuga is the period where one has to face the truth of impermanence and the suffering caused by human ignorance. This is the gateway into true, deep yoga practice. Without it the ego function prevents us from truly caring about others. The other Yugas are internal meditation stages, which naturally flow as we understand time, space, and interpenetration of everything. From the perspective of the Yugas, someone in deep meditation stands at the beginning and the end of time and is therefore free.
The Yuga system is based on the mathematical geometry of musical scales and is explained beautifully in The Myth of Invariance by Ernest McClain and by Antonio T. de Nicholas in his work on the Rig Veda. There is no historical, geological, astrological, astronomical “proof” of any of this. Regardless, at the very least it is brilliant mathematical fun and metaphor.
A special practice that is incredibly valuable, especially as we consider the turmoil we are now in, and that is reflected in the idea of the Kali Yuga, is the Buddhist practice of holding all beings in your heart. Of course, this is the core teaching of the Bhagavad Gītā as well.
We are living through a delicate time in history, whether or not it is definitively the Kali Yuga. In all such times yes, practice and learning are not only extremely important, but when approached with as much clarity as possible they can be accelerated by the fact that one is dealing with crises.
Q: The little understanding I have of the word yama means 'to kill' or 'to push down'. Is this what we are doing when we are practicing the yamas? And is this where and how this limb's name originated?
Yama is the god of death and he is considered to be a compassionate teacher. Yama is not violent, mean, or oppressive (see the Kaṭa Upaniṣad). But because he is the god of death, people often confuse the word yama with concepts like killing or pushing down. The word yama in other contexts merely means to control.
For instance, the word prāṇāyāma means to release the prāṇā from restrictions as opposed to stop or oppress the prāṇā. When practicing the yamas, as described in the Yoga Sūtra, we are controlling the tendency of ignorance to hurt others, to tell lies, to exploit, steal or do harm. This is the origin of the use as a foundational concept for ethical behavior. Since there is an element of control in the discernment required to behave in an ethical manner, the word yama is applicable.
Q: The German Yoga teacher Ronald Steiner speaks of fascia as like a rubber band in that if we always move in the same way it can become stretched unevenly and wear out or create disbalance or imbalances. He uses the example of different areas being stretched unevenly if we always do Paschimattasana with stretched versus bent legs. In my practice, I’ve been straightening and stretching my legs some days and bending them on other days. What would you say about this?
For many reasons beyond just the movement and patterning in the fascia, it is intelligent to not become caught in our habitual patterns of movement and form. So yes, bending the knees some days and straightening them on others can be good. But possibly more important than that (which itself could become another habitual approach to the postures) is to wake up the legs! You do this by activating the feet, lifting kneecaps, and feeling connections from your toes all the way to the pelvic floor (and on up to the head).
To feel full-body lines is the way to respect and use the patterning of the intelligence as it manifests in the healthy and pleasant patterns of fascia. This is what’s called proper alignment.
Q: I've stumbled on a roadblock: The more I practice there is less desire to categorize, and more desire to simply observe, to move more slowly, speak more softly, behave more kindly. My difficulty is that this residue drains away as I necessarily re-engage with the regular world. My practice can bring me to a state of not wishing to judge or evaluate almost as if I’m floating in a cloud of neutrality and acceptance. But then almost any real-life situation pulls me into needing to have an opinion. When we connect with others, we do so by sharing opinions, feelings, experiences, etc. and this pulls us into judging, individualizing, and so on. How do we connect with others in a truly loving way?
This is a wonderful roadblock! And like most roadblocks, there’s usually a detour just around the corner. In this case, the detour is for you to take a shift in perspective.
Though most of us would probably love to be in a state of bliss in which residue and insights from the practice last forever—as if “floating on a cloud”—these states of calm and equanimity just don’t last. Not for anyone. The practices are designed to help us wake up to whatever we’re facing minute by minute. They provide a space within which we can deepen our understanding of ourselves and others and they help us sustain steadiness and stability.
But steadiness, stability, equanimity, and bliss are only definable in the context of complementary patterns and states of being. They, like everything else, including the impact of our practice, are always changing, therefore the positive residue will also change. Observing all of these shifts as part of a continuum rather than as opposing or mutually exclusive states is a practice too. Having opinions, discussing differences of opinion, and using discernment—making judgments—are equally important as feeling neutral. The trick is to notice the tendency to project our beliefs, desires, anxieties, anger, attachment, etc. onto others.
The fact that you even notice that the impact of practice shifts over the course of the day means you’re becoming more and more aware—the yoga is naturally spilling naturally off the mat into your life. This is wonderful news, and shifting your perspective to see this is how the roadblock dissolves!
One thing we often recommend is to look at our practice in geologic time. Meaning, look at it as a long-term, organic process. Day by day it may seem that things aren’t changing or the positive impact of a healthy practice doesn’t last very long. However, if you think back six months or 10 years, you’ll probably notice lasting positive shifts in perception, tolerance, ability to find balance and so on that are now lasting aspects of your practice and your interactions in the world.
If you've got a burning philosophical question or one about yoga asana, meditation, or pranayama, or if you wonder about how yoga intersects with your life, please submit a question here. We'll try our best to answer! We'll publish one or two in our newsletter and, if you wish, please give us your initials and where you're from so we can include them in our answer. Thank you!
December 2020
Mary Taylor
Q: When practicing Marichyāsana C and D are both sitting bones in contact with the floor?
For most people they are not. The vinyasa or transitions of breath and movement during various stages of moving into (and out of) twists is important in order to go deeply and avoid injury while maintaining a sense of spaciousness in the core of the body. As you enter a twist allow the pelvis to rotate in the direction of the twist. If you’re standing this of course will impact rotations in the femurs. When sitting, as in Marichyāsana, it impacts the sitting bones.
The sitting bone on the side of direction you are twisting becomes light and for most people lifts away from the floor. This is part of the primary action. As secondary actions are introduced the pelvis counter-rotates and, in the case of the Marichyāsana family, the sitting bone that has lifted drops closer to the floor. It should feel heavy, but does not necessarily come in contact with the floor.
Staying in the twist for a number of breaths, you can then play back and forth with the primary and secondary actions to go more deeply, but usually that sitting bone does not drop all the way back down to the floor. If you force the lifted sitting bone to touch the floor you are likely to contract or pinch the psoas muscle on that side which will cause the twist to become constricted or crunched.
Twists should feel spacious and open. Play with primary and counter spins around the hip joints so it works!!
Q: What yoga text does the opening mantra of the ashtanga vinyasa tradition come from?
The opening chant has two independent verses from two different sources. The verse that begins with “vande gurūnāṁ” is the first verse of the Yoga Tārāvalī by Śaṅkarācārya.
The second verse included in the opening chant begins with “abahu puruṣākāraṁ” and is a visualization chant about Patañjali. It is unclear exactly in which text it first appears.
One can find the other famous verse about Patañjali (that begins with yogena cittasya) in the Patañjali-caritam. There are many myths and stories about the sage Patañjali and so verses glorifying him appear in various South Indian temples and texts.
Q: What do you see as the future of Ashtanga yoga? Over the past few years there have been shifts that have impacted the system profoundly—from the revelations about sexual misconduct to tensions between different approaches to the practice. Sometimes, especially in private conversations, there seems to be confusion, negativity and politics. What can we as teachers and students do to address these things and also help the lineage evolve?
We are very hopeful as to the future of yoga ashtanga yoga. This includes both the modern interpretation by asana practitioners as ashtanga vinyasa and the more traditional understanding of a deep, eight-limbed practice.
The fact that we as a modern ashtanga community have acknowledged and are communicating about the sexual abuse that took place is a starting point. Though it was confusing and painful, it has given us opportunity to deepen and evolve as individuals and as a lineage of practice. We have and must continue to learn from this making certain that in the present and future sexual, physical and mental abuse and manipulation is recognized and stopped. This will strengthen ashtanga yoga.
As practitioners and particularly as teachers we should cultivate the ability to see through the human tendencies to become absorbed by our egos, create cults and power dynamics within which these and other sorts of abuses occur. This boils down to cultivating truthfulness, honesty, communication, study, inquire and sincere respect for others.
If you've got a burning philosophical question or one about yoga asana, meditation or pranayama or if you wonder about how yoga intersects with your life, please submit a question here. We'll try our best to answer! We'll publish one or two in our newsletter as well.
November 2020
Mary Taylor
Q: In all the years you have spent in and with yoga, what is the most important lesson you have learned?
That relationship is at the core of everything and for that reason cultivating healthy relationships is paramount to living a life that is healthy, happy, and rooted in service for others. In our practice, we start with watching simple relationships—like the prana and the apana
Q: What is your definition of time?
Time is change. We become aware of time when we’re conscious of space and we become aware of space most accurately through being in touch with what it feels like to live in a body. Time and space are what Prakṛti is, and together they reveal the truth of impermanence, reality, and the joy of letting go. If you try to hold onto time…well, good luck! There truly is no time like the present.
Q: Mr. Iyengar cautioned against doing Sūrya and Chandra Bhedana the same day. What do you have to say about that?
These prānāyāma practices, like all prānāyāma, should be approached carefully and never with a sense of achievement, grasping or strain. In his book, “Light on Pranayama" Iyengar describes the full, extreme version of these practices. Sūrya Bhedana prānāyāma is inhaling through the right nostril—the sun or Sūrya channel—then retaining, with full use of bandhas. One then exhales through the left side—the moon or Chandra channel—and again retains with the bandhas. Inhale through the right, exhale through the left. In Chandra Bhedana pranayama the opposite pattern is practices; inhaling only through the left, exhaling only through the right. If you practice either of these in an extreme way, it makes sense to not practice them close to each other. Prānāyāma, even more than asana, needs to be approached gently, internally and not with even a tinge of competition or egotistical attachment to success.
Q: What role do sincere yoga teachers have in the politics of the moment? I care for my students immensely and want to serve them in the best ways I know how. And yet, I find my insides are screaming because of the lack of humanity I sense in our country. Do you have any advice or guidance?
Injustice thrives on anger, violence and confusion. So for each of us as practitioners and teachers the best thing we can do—especially in times like these—is to see through our own tendencies toward these emotions. In other words to pay attention to the thoughts, feelings and sensations that grip us and then step back to check habitual patterns of thought, body and emotion that are causing imbalance. Sometimes we must ride the embodied experience and not try to alter it, though sometimes we see we’re rooted in habits that can be shifted. But recognizing our patterns is the first step. This then leads to stability that allows us to see can contribute the most effectively to helping all people learn kindness toward one another.
If you've got a burning philosophical question or one about yoga asana, meditation or pranayama or if you wonder about how yoga intersects with your life, please submit a question here. We'll try our best to answer! We'll publish one or two in our newsletter as well.
September 2020
Mary Taylor
Q: Why do we lift up in Utplutiḥ at the very end of practice? It seems counter-intuitive to ramp the system back up after having just cooled and calmed down through the finishing postures?
It’s difficult to say exactly what the intention behind putting that in the sequence originally was. But here are some thoughts on it:
Maybe to wake us back up if we've become too lackadaisical from the finishing postures. Maybe we practice Utplutiḥ to wake up the core in preparation for Tādāghī Mudrā. Or perhaps it’s in there at that particular point in the series to remind us we're doing ashtanga rather than restorative yoga.
The most likely rationale for putting it in there, from our point of view, is that it really works the abdominal muscles. This coming just before jumping back one last time and going into Savasana, allow you to feel the back of the body spread out and lengthen so that the body can become more balanced and so that in Savasana we can assimilate the practice. If we can cultivate Savasana in this way, the posture does not turn into a spontaneous nap, but an important and strategically placed yoga pose.
Q: I often experience REM (rapid eye movements) in Savāsana. I don’t think I’m sleeping, but it also feels unusual, neither conscious nor unconscious.
Rapid eye movements in Savāsana are not uncommon, though they can be distracting. Generally, they are a signal that the nervous system is not easily settling down after the practice. There are a few things you can do:
Check out the rest of your practice. Are you straining while you breathe, or working quickly without being in complete sync with the breath in any of the poses or sections of the practice? If so, soften the practice. Don’t push too hard or too quickly and cultivate a sense of fluidity.
At the end of the exhalation, check to see if there is tension in the jaw, face, neck, or head. Consciously soften the tongue, the jaw, behind the scalp, and the head/neck area in general as you bring awareness to releasing tension in and behind the eyes. Do this throughout several full waves of breath.
Check the intensity of your gaze as you practice. You might be overstraining or becoming too unfocused as you practice. The gaze should be strong, steady, and very soft. Nobody looking at nothing!
Perhaps sitting longer in Yoga Mudrāsana before Savāsana would help. Or experiment with omitting Utplutiḥ before Savāsana and see what happens.
If you've got a burning philosophical question or one about yoga asana, meditation or pranayama or if you wonder about how yoga intersects with your life, please submit a question here. We'll try our best to answer! We'll publish one or two in our newsletter as well.