Fire, Walk With Me

Having tried Hatha and Vinyasa Yoga already, this week I decided to attempt Kundalini Yoga, which combines kriyas (dynamic movement) and pranayama to create a unique experience centered on the mind, body, and soul. Mantras are also utilized more often in this kind of yoga according to Gaia’s description, and the practice I partook in this week fit it to a T. Entitled “Kundalini for Releasing Stress,” this 59 minute practice led by Lindsey Lewis via Gaia focused on pranayama dedicated to increasing the balance within one’s nervous system, allowing for peace and relief both during the practice and afterwards.

 

While Downward Facing Dog and other familiar poses were present in this practice, the pranayama and kriyas found most often in this branch of yoga allowed for asanas that I was completely unfamiliar with, and those are the ones I will be covering in this entry.  Furthermore, I believe it is important to note that although Lewis covers the descriptions of each asana in great detail as she moves through them, she does not always name the postures; if they are not referred to by name, this is why.

 

Starting in a seated position, with legs crossed and palms at heart (also known as in prayer), I inhaled, allowing the motion to be everything I needed, then exhaled, releasing everything I didn’t. Coming out of this pranayama exercise, I brought my hands to my knees and moved my torso in a circular motion, focusing on moving around the base of my spine, an asana that is known as a Sufi Grind. Eyes closed, I focused on the movement and let my breath guide me, exhaling as I moved forward and inhaling when I moved back. After inhaling and returning to the center, I repeated the process in the opposite direction, dropping away from my thoughts and focusing on my breathing patterns.

 

Balancing my nervous system with a longer, deeper breath, I inhaled, extending my arms to my sides and bringing my elbows to shoulder height. Connecting the tip of my index finger and thumb while simultaneously extending my other fingers, I inhaled before twisting left, then exhaled while twisting right. While relaxing my shoulders and focusing on mudra, I held the tip of my index fingers to my thumbs, maintaining my pranayama, exhaling deep, powerful breaths. Lewis says that this asana works best by “bringing in all the energy you need to carry you through this practice and off your mat and out into your day.” Similarly, as my arms started to feel heavy and my breath increased with the intensity of the posture, Lewis encouraged me to keep going past the limits of what I believed I could do, seeking more from my body and trying to “see what happens when you go beyond your mind” (Lewis).

 

Pushing oneself is key when practicing Kundalini. As I returned to a seated position I began to reach my arms, the right one to my left side, the left one to my right, pushing and pulling as I inhaled upon reaching the left of my body and exhaled upon reaching the right, all movements that helped keep me grounded in the moment. Attempting to control the movement in time with my breathing proved to be a greater challenge than I anticipated, and I frequently found myself restarting the asana in order to get it right. Once accomplished, it became a fluid motion; one that required presence rather than thought, for it was overthinking that caused me to stall in the first place. As Lewis says during the sequence, one must search for “that grounded sense of calm and strong that is always there beyond the stress and anxiety.”  Inhaling, exhaling, reaching, and pulling became the only words floating in my mind. Subsequent to this, my hands found their way to the base of my ankles and I inhaled, pushing my torso forward and then exhaling on the curve back. The spinal flex spread, working its way through my tailbone and the base of my skull. Tension spread through my abdomen as I crunched back and forth, the stretch of my back both calming and unfamiliar as I worked my way through the asana.

 

This tension was nothing, however, compared to what I felt when performing any of the asanas that involved Breath of Fire. This technique, which involves rapidly inhaling and exhaling through one’s nose with no break in-between, requires one to pump their navel in order to distribute the rate of said breath. This is exactly what I did, and the first asana that required it was Cat-Camel. As I inhaled on the drop, and exhaled looking back at my ceiling, Lewis instructed me to begin bringing my muscles in through my belly button, and to continue doing so on every exhale and inhale. With the exhale, I had to do it consciously, but as Lewis pointed out, every inhalation brings your stomach in naturally.

 

The next Breath of Fire motion required me to clasp my hands overhead, extending my index fingers upward while sitting crossed legged. Pumping my stomach, spine tall, I again felt my abdominal muscles screaming as I continued the motion for three minutes, each second feeling like an eternity. While I adjusted the pace to what I could maintain consistently, I still went as fast as I could and the amount of energy I exerted in just a few minutes stunned me. I began to think about how I wanted to give up on the practice, get a drink of water, maybe come back to it later, but I pushed through. I felt a sense of accomplishment at finishing, but it was quickly bested by the following Breath of Fire asana.

 

Returning to my center, feet together and hands at heart, I brought my hands to my hips and placed my right foot far behind me, leaning into a low lunge. Front knee directly over my ankle, I inhaled as I reached up, exhaling with a sweep of my torso to place it in line with my right leg. Open and closing my hands rapidly, I drew my left hip back and moved my right hip forward continuously while pumping my chest in and out through my navel, feeling my stomach contract with every breath and wanting so badly to be back at center, hands at heart.

 

The asanas placed in-between the Breath of Fire focused ones allowed me to regain this center, and power through the challenging moments to reach a state of peace. One of the ones that was simple yet effective was when I stood, feet together, arms outstretched with hands clasped, palms facing up. I lifted my heels, then lowered them, inhaling and exhaling with each set. The idea behind the practice is to accept the unknown. When it comes to balance, we are afraid that we may fall, injure ourselves, and never get up. Acceptance of the unknown, of the imbalance, is what leads to balance in the first place.

 

The idea of letting go is echoed in the “Let Go” mantra Lewis uses for the asana that requires you to place your arms straight up, legs straight – the “Let” portion – then swing down, knees bent and arms at your sides – the “go” part of the equation. Inhaling up, exhaling down, the goal is to let go of whatever one may be holding on to, and embrace the moment one is living right now.

 

Lewis also introduces “Har Har Har Haree” which is meant to be a mantra of creativity and creation. The asana it goes along with starts with one placed in center. As I moved from that center, I spread my feet wider than hip width, arms and palms up, inhaling as I clapped and then exhaling as I bent and hit the floor with my open palms, three times. “Har Har Har” goes with the three hits, and “Haree” is meant to be exclaimed upon the clap. It serves as a means to let out frustration and tension by allowing our innate aggression to be let out in a constructive manner.  

 

Finally, one of the final asanas was profoundly difficult for me to complete, though it looked deceptively simple. Sitting crossed legged once more with my palms down, thumbs tucked in a way that aligned the tips of my thumbs to the base of my pinkies, I extended my left hand straight up, my bicep residing near my left ear. My right hand reached out at a 60 degree angle, my palm down. As I straightened, allowing the crown of my head to set the tone for my body, elongating my spine and relaxing my shoulders, I settled into my breathing. Panic set in initially as Lewis stated that one should stay 3-7 minutes in this position, with their arms strong and steady at all times. Two minutes in I wanted to quit; the tension in my arms was growing rapidly and there was nothing more I wanted to do than to lie them down on the ground and rest. Even as someone who has previously benched two hundred and fifty pounds, I had never felt tension like this before. As if sensing my unease, Lewis said “all that resistance that comes up, that’s just stuck energy.” Taking those words into account, I closed my eyes, keeping my muscles level even as I struggled. Five minutes in, Lewis progressed to the next asana, and I gave myself permission to relax, grateful for the ground and the ability to engage in my typical, relaxed postures that are so often taken for granted.

 

Kundalini Yoga taught me a lot, and it also showed me what yoga can be beyond physical exercise. It is a way to relax, breathe, and relieve stress in daily life, to appreciate what one has and aid in the search for mindfulness. It has the ability to challenge muscles that one did not realize were dormant, to be a mental and physical guide on what one’s body can do when pushed beyond preconceived limitations. To quote Lewis, when in doubt, keep three things in mind:

 

“You can do this”

 

“Keep going”

 

“Breathe through it.”

 

Until the Next Reflection,

Moujnir