I had really wanted to go this evening, but as I watched my friend walk away, I looked at my watch and knew I'd be unable to make it back to Williamsburg by 5:45PM. Still, we had spent the day in Carytown, so I was parked just in front of a yoga studio. It was 5:20PM and I figured it worth a try... my yoga gear was in the trunk after all.
I dashed up the stairs and discovered that there was a Hatha Flow class at 5:30. I scribbled on the New Student Pad, signed in, paid, dashed back down the three flights of stone steps to fetch my clothes, hauled into the Ladies Room to change, tossed my bags into the common holding area, and dropped onto my crooked mat. It took some Ujii breathing to slow down my heart rate and accept the fact that I was in a class that begins with inversion. The teacher had her students lined up on their backs with their legs up the wall.
This is not how I was trained.
The rest of the class followed in such a way that made me feel like an idiot and not a 200 RYT (Registered Yoga Teacher). I clearly have been gripping the ways of my own studio too tightly. We have a pretty regular routine where I teach... there's room for some variation, but largely people are working on a specific set of poses. The idea is to gradually work toward the "full expression" of the pose. Unless you're Tony Sanchez or Jimmy Barkan, chances are you're not able to move into the full expression of every pose in the series.
The yoga that was taught to today resembles the Iyengar method to me... one uses as many props as possible to actually move into the full expression of the poses. The instructor only taught the sun salutations without props. Her standing series and floor positions were all taught with the aid of props or partners.
There is rarely touching at my studio. Occasionally an instructor will assist individual students who seem comfortable with touch, but unless it's a workshop designed for partners, it doesn't really happen. Our teacher this evening had no qualms physically adjusting her students (particularly me) and she instructed us to work with one another in staff pose.
from www.yogaofthefuture.comIt's basically a seated position with one's legs stretched out ahead. What she had the assisting student do was to place his/her shin against the seated student's back to allow the student to relax the back muscles holding him/her up while keeping the spine straight. Then we were asked to take our hands to the upward reaching upper arms of the seated student. After turning the muscles gently inward, the assistant moves his/her hands up the stretched arms of the seated person "helping to move the prana up through the body."
The lady next to me didn't blink. She got up and walked to me volunteering to assist me first.
I have to admit... it was pretty incredible.
It's a very subtle movement, but it really makes a difference. I could quite literally feel something that probably could only be described as "energy" tingle up my arms and then rush down like pouring water through the rest of my body. It's sort of warm and electric all at once.
There's a magic in touch from which we shy away... I'm sure as a society, this is a trust issue. We've heard too many horror stories of how certain people take advantage of kindness and do terrible things to good people such as stealing or... well, much worse. Every one you know probably has heard at least one story that's frightening enough to make you never want to trust another human being again. I'm guilty of this fear for sure... even tonight when I walked into the studio and saw that the common holding area was a completely open room to people in the building, I asked the lady at the desk if I could leave my purse with her. I was surprised when she looked at me with moral disappointment... the sort of face my pastor makes at me when I tell him I don't really have faith in anything...
"Everyone just leaves their stuff in that room-"
"Oh, good. I see," I felt like such a jerk that I cut her off and ran into the room to hang up my purse. I'm happy to announce that her faith in the people around us was not unfounded...
Worse than that, I'm sure many people prefer not to be touched (within reason, of course) due to a lack of it at some point in their lives for many reasons... an un-affectionate parent, an abusive break-up, etc. It's preferable to deal with being left the hell alone than to risk the rejection or the remembrance of it.
In my case, I just don't trust people. Perhaps that's wise in the alley or in the mall, but maybe in places where people have a common interest in something "good" (yoga, churches, etc) I could stand to suspend my judgment. Obviously terrible things have happened in these places as well. There's a sixth sense we all have the power to discover and utilize to know when it's a moment for defense or openness.
I thanked the teacher for the class and told her in all sincerity I'd need to come back to study her technique and language. I don't think I'll convert my devout "Don't Touch Me's" to start working together to enhance one another's yoga experience, but I hope I can start turning their awareness of one another toward some form of comradery. From what I can tell, all my students are pretty decent people, but I think our studio could do with some care for one another. In the Carytown studio, I felt as though while these people weren't going to join my book club, they wanted me to succeed in class and further my yogic path. They have been taught gratitude for what they can do and how others can help them (and how they are likewise useful to others). It was one of the most frustrating and yet best supported classes I've ever taken.
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