This week, I continued my yoga journey on Gaia, this time challenging myself by doing an hour long Vinyasa practice entitled “Rooted and Flexible Like Bamboo” led by instructor Steph Schwartz. We started off with Schwartz stating that one of the things that inspires her during this particular exercise is a Chinese proverb that goes “Notice that the stiffest tree is most easily cracked, while the bamboo and willow- they bend with the wind.” Indeed, this quote set the tone for the entire class as we flowed in and out through various asanas, allowing our pranayama to dictate how seamlessly our movements transitioned into one another. Following this wonderful introduction, Schwartz went over many poses, and to talk about my thoughts on all of them would take up a 35-page essay. So instead, I’m going to focus on the ones that truly grounded or challenged me.
One of my first reactions to Vinyasa Yoga was that, due to the nature of moving from asana to asana, one must be fast and succinct in their movements. Simultaneously, one must also be willing to exist in their whole body – that is, to release the tension of thoughts, and become one with every inch of their physical self. To start this process of both mindfulness and flow, we began in a position called Earth Mudra. Sitting with my legs crossed, hands wresting on my knees while my ring fingers met my thumbs in silent contemplation, I closed my eyes as directed. Breathing in and listening to Schwartz, I fought the urge to think about deadlines, past mistakes, and all the thoughts that had now decided this was the perfect opportunity to clutter my brain. Instead, I focused on the feeling of my hands resting on my knees and the way my legs relaxed on the earth, allowing me to appreciate this one beautiful moment. My roots were growing out, imbedding me into the ground. Lifting my head up towards the clouds and focusing on where mind and body meet, the two sides melded into one. Subsequently, we used the mantra “om gam ganapataye namaha” in honor of Lord Ganesha. Repeating this mantra six times – three in my head and three out loud, as I was uncomfortable singing until the 4th time around- I moved from Earth Mudra and placed my hands in front of my heart, murmuring my intention, bowing my head and welcoming myself to the practice.
Then I inhaled into my full body stretch, exhaling as I pulled my knees into my chest before rocking backward and forward, focusing on the impact alongside my spine. Following this, I sat seated, stretching my heels out in a diagonal reach, almost to the point of a titled split. Lifting my hips ever so slightly, I pushed my tailbone back in order to move my pelvis forward before taking a seated position. The movement felt comfortable, and several of my joints immediately released tension that I was unaware they were holding; however, as soon as the “roots” of my thigh bones were sent into the ground, with my chest upright, leaning forward with my elbows down in front of me, second toes held high to the sky as the heels dug back towards my hips, I felt my muscles pushing themselves. My elbows were unused to such calm stillness in a strange pose, almost straining to stay on the ground as my legs begged for release. Nonetheless, I kept the asana until Schwartz released it, and when asked to repeat it later on found that it came much easier to me.
Similarly, the next asana that we moved into, a seated version of Tree Pose (also known as Vrikshasana) also tested my strength. My muscles felt the burn of the stretch as I moved my left foot to the inside of my right thigh, allowing my right foot to find its roots in the air; my heart pointed towards my second toe as I folded over my right leg, left shoulder and ribs pushing towards the ground. Focusing once more on stretching my heart forward, I lifted out, twisted, placed my right hand onto my left knee and left fingertips behind me, inhaling from the ground before lifting up through the very top of my head. On that note I exhaled, rotating from my navel to enter the opposite side, repeating the asana. Interestingly, my legs served as the tree trunk in the bamboo/tree analogy– they were stable, offering the base upon which my flexibility could thrive. This flexibility served as the bamboo, my pulsing breath, inhaling and exhaling in time with each movement and working in synchronous harmony with the stability of my legs.
Bharmanasana (Table Top pose) was more grounding, as it made me focus on the energy coursing through me with the control of every breath, filling my lungs upon entry into Cat-Cow pose, the joints of physical being acting as the flexible bamboo. Through my heart, elbows soft, exhaling as the tops of my feet pushed into the ground while I moved from chin to chest then belly to spine and back again, I was unusually conscious of the rise and fall of my chest. Both my heart and my lungs were on my mind as I focused on doing both asanas and pranayama in harmony with deep, controlled, thoughtful breaths; at my own pace but not too far behind the instructor. Afterwards, my thoughts switched to the stretched muscles of my arms as I threaded the needle of my left arm underneath my chest, wrapping my right arm behind my back and exhaling to give my right ribs the ability to slowly open up, working my right outer hip back before returning to Bharmanasana.
After switching sides, I leaned into Downward Facing Dog, a pose I have done before but never completely right. This time, I kept my feet flat on the ground; and the feeling of the surface flush against my flesh created a completely different dynamic, personal and breathtaking all at once. Using Downward Facing Dog to inhale back, moving my knee towards my chest before entering Downward Facing Dog Split, I pushed my right leg behind me creating a physical embodiment of a half pipe. Returning on an inhale, I leaned down into a low lunge. This part is always tricky for me as my returning foot never quite aligns with my hands, and I always have to quickly adjust my position before continuing. After repeating this several times there has been improvement, but that one motion is still a challenge. Thankfully, Schwartz is a very patient teacher, and she consistently reminds her students that should they need to adjust in order to accommodate the level they are at, either by modifying the practice itself or the speed it is done at, it is perfectly fine. That encouragement prompted me to keep going despite my self-doubt, so after an inhale I continued from the low lunge position to a lunge twist, inhaled again with my feet rooted firmly, and moved into Warrior II.
The final two asanas that truly left a profound impact on me were Figure Four into Vrksasana and Floor Bow! Figure Four challenged my balance and encouraged me to literally become the bamboo and flow – not with the wind, but with the wobbly nature of my balance, swaying into it instead of resisting. Sliding my right ankle onto my left thigh, I found Vrksasana by placing my right hand to right ankle, my left big toe digging into the earth as my hands formed in prayer. Inhaling, I swept my arms out and over, exhaling as they came back in prayer pose, forming in front of my heart. Finding my intention in practice, I once again inhaled, lifting the center of my heart into my thumbs forming what Schwartz affectionately calls “Namaste Tree.” Still on one leg, I bowed down, leaning my heart forward, my right knee pulled back as I exhaled and then inhaled, rolling my shoulder back over my hips. Exhaling, I intertwined my fingers behind my back and directed my interlaced fist towards my left heel, my gaze shifted upwards before focusing back on the ground. Finally, my hands once again met in front of my heart in prayer, and my right knee came forward before rejoining its sister on the ground, both big toes touching in reunion.
Then of course, there came Floor Bow. I will admit when Schwartz began to demonstrate the movement, it looked very intimidating and I doubted whether I should even attempt it. However, Schwartz is not one to give up and she encourages her students to push themselves if they are willing to do so, as long as it isn’t to the point of serious injury. So, after viewing the asana a couple of times and acknowledging the form, I attempted it myself. Forehead down, I reached for my ankles and latched on, drawing my naturally extending knees into hipbone distance. Pulling my inner thighs and forearms towards one another, I kicked, opening my chest, finding my grounding in my breathing. I then rolled onto my right side, kicking my left foot back and leaning my head back as well, to open up my throat and allow for further breath control as I exerted more energy. Adjusting back to my stomach, I inhaled into the original Floor Bow position before kicking open again, this time on my right side as I rolled on my left, breathing in, exhaling back to my stomach. One more original Floor Bow, and then I released the position, my legs extending and forehead resting on my hands, proud and exalted to have successfully completed the asana.
Having a quiet space to practice in truly helped me to hone in on the oneness of being and flow of body and breath that Schwartz was emphasizing in this practice. I wish I had been outside because the feel of the wind on my skin while pushing my body to new heights would have helped me feel more in tune with nature, particularly when engaging in these earth-based asanas. My living space is colorful, vibrant, and rather distracting, so I tend to focus on either my ceiling, my DIY string art projects, or my mat while doing yoga. By giving myself three focal points, I keep myself focused and allow my space to become sacred in its own way.
This was a challenging practice to engage in, especially online, as you can tell that doing it amongst a group of people would create a sense of community that you do not get from one on one virtual instruction. Nonetheless, Schwartz is an excellent instructor who managed to keep things personable and inspiring without ever actually interacting with me live. Most importantly, I learned asanas that inspire flexibility of mind and body; that in and of itself is a wondrous, if simple, feat.
Until the Next Reflection,
Moujnir
