On October 1st, my yoga class had our first in-class practice experience. Dr. Greene, our professor, had Dianne Polli come in to teach Bikram Yoga. This particular branch of yoga is very formulaic; there are 26 poses, done in order and to be completed in 90 minutes. Each pose is held for roughly 2 minutes, and then released and held again for 1 minute. Since this class is virtual but also live, I knew it would be a different experience compared to the online classes I have been taking so far. Prior to our practice, I did some of my own research on Bikram Yoga and found that it is typically done in a 105-degree room! So, I drank a bottle of water before practice to hydrate, and then kept my practice space at 95 degrees (no a/c or fans, as the physical space where I practice tends to be naturally hot without them) to be as close to the authentic experience as possible.
The Bikram website itself was down so I did not have a chance to look over each individual posture as much as I wanted to, but Greene did an excellent job of demonstrating each movement Polli directed. Polli herself did not practice as the instructor is not meant to in Bikram; they call out the instructions, and you follow them.
My first impression was that Bikram is fast. It is strange because, when looking at it from a purely analytical standpoint, holding a pose for minutes is the opposite of fast. It’s a slow physical burn (I’m talking about you, Yin) rather than a fast one. Yet, to me it was fast because I was so unfamiliar with the asanas—listening, viewing, and doing the practice simultaneously, particularly on the balance heavy postures, made me feel as if I was always behind, even in the moments when I was executing the asanas just fine. Mentally, I was playing catch up 95% of the time, so the practice seemed swift, which if anything proves that mentality goes a long way in one’s experience of yoga, just like everything else in life.
That said, the practice was great — it flowed nicely, was challenging yet simple, and overall left a powerful impression on me. Some asanas were more difficult for me than others, and those are the ones that taught me the most. For that reason, I will be focusing on the three asanas that gave me the most trouble, and explaining why, by the end of each, I thought they were the best.
Utkatasana, or Awkward Pose, focuses on balance and proper alignment of all parts involved. Starting by standing upright, head straight ahead, I moved my foot to the side and allowed for a small gap to come between my knees, before extending my arms in front of me, careful to keep my elbows straight. I slowly lowered down until my thighs ran parallel to the earth and held it for as long as Polli instructed. Then, rising back up, I kept the position but stood on my toes, all of my weight shifting and becoming dependent on my quads and legs muscles, my back and stomach tightening as I lowered down and repeated the same steps as the first part of the asana. Then, I moved into the final stage of Awkward Pose; instead of pushing myself onto my toes, I shifted my weight onto my heels, lifting them off the ground just slightly. Lowering back down, I kept going until my rear practically touched my heels. My back and stomach felt the strain of the movement as I held it there, and I struggled to keep my breathing at a normal rate. When we finally released, I felt calm yet disappointed, as despite the struggle, this asana relieved a lot of tension in my lower back that I did not realize was present.
Only one asana after, I found my next challenge: Dandayamana Janushirasana, or Standing Knee to Head Pose. This asana required me to stand with my feet close together, fingers interlocked. Shifting the weight of my body to my right leg, I raised my left leg up through the bend of my knees and lifted my right leg so that my foot was resting on my interlocked fingers. Keeping the grip on the base of my right foot, my right leg still bent and my torso following suit, I straightened both of my legs so that the right one was parallel to the floor, my hands a vice keeping everything in place. Then, bending my arms and lowering my elbows towards my calf, I attempted to touch my head to my knee, and succeeded for about five seconds before losing my balance and almost falling to the floor. I ended up having to repeat the process on the same side, and this time, I didn’t force my head to my knee, and instead hovered about half an inch away, the closest I could get without falling. I then repeated the steps on the other side. Each hold seemed like forever; the stretch in my lower back spread into my upper thighs, the pull of my fingers against my outstretched leg prominent as sweat dripped down from my head on to my knee, keeping me grounded in the moment.
Nonetheless, it was over, and it was not until Padangusthasana, or Toe Stand Pose, that I lost balance again. Standing on my right leg, I inhaled as I brought the top of my left foot towards my right hip. Then I bent my right knee, exhaled, and anchored my left foot on my right thigh. I do not remember my breathing pattern in this particular asana beyond these initial moments, but I do recall that I struggled to get the timing right with each movement. When I reached the instructed squatting position, I lifted my right heel so that I was on the ball of my foot, centering it under my body and bringing my hands to prayer at heart. While on the tips of my toes, I fell not once, but three times, landing square on my buttocks and feeling increasingly frustrated with each failure. Finally, after maintaining the asana for 10 seconds, I stood up and switched sides. This time, I was able to successfully complete the asana, even though I was a bit wobbly. Balancing with one leg up, only being able to rely on one foot’s set of toes, was significantly more difficult than it seemed; and for that reason, when done successfully, it made me feel extremely accomplished.
Polli used several phrases regularly throughout the practice, including:
“Stretching pain vs strong pain,” which explained how we should define our physical limitations
“Natural human traction,” which was the motion that carried us through many of the asanas
“Move slowly,” the phrase uttered most fervently so that we could experience the full scope of Bikram, and finally
“Breathe.”
Polli was insistent on steady breathing and acceptance of limitations, and even gave a feel-good mantra at the end as we were resting in Savasana, which Dr. Greene later informed us is unique to Polli’s teaching style and is not traditionally included in Bikram Yoga. Polli’s main Bikram advice at the end was to “listen to the instructor” and “nail the initial part of the pose” because, as she explained, mastery of the initial steps will lead to mastery of the entire asana.
Overall, Bikram Yoga was an interesting, one-of-a-kind experience, especially in this format — and I can’t wait to see what challenges this week’s classes bring.
Until the Next Reflection,
Moujnir
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