being a student, mysore in london

Very non-descript placard beside the door of the shala.
From outside, you would never guess the magic going on in there!

“One more,” calls Hamish Hendry from the main room. I come up from uthita trikonasana, fold my mat  and walk into the steamy room, condensation on the walls and windows, steam rising from hot bodies in practice. I can feel the humidity on my skin but also in my lungs. It might be on the edge of oppressively hot but I love it, I am so happy to put my mat down. I take a few moments to inhale and exhale in samasthitihi, getting used to the thickness of the air in the room before restarting my practice. Ekam…

These months of being on the road have been beautiful lessons in self-practice, in learning to motivate myself, to be patient and sensible when it comes to the limits of the body, to forgive and be loving towards myself when necessary. I have relished the time on my own, but I have to admit, it’s been difficult, and also a little lonely.

Being on a mini-holiday to visit with friends in London, with no particular agenda, has been a great opportunity to go to class, to step into the cauldron, so to speak, to be a student.

In late 2013, when I last breezed through London, a trip to Dharma Shala was on my agenda. I only managed a couple of days but attending class there left a strong impression on me. Returning this time around, taking class super-ceeded being a tourist. It's been nearly a year since my last Mysore trip. A year of self-practice. So entering a warm room again, one buzzing with the energy generated by bodies moving with breath and thoughtful intention...It's like magic. 

Dharma Shala on Drummond Street is a gem of a shala, where the connection to Mysore, India feels very alive, so tangible you can feel it. I’ve not practiced in so many places, but it’s at Dharma shala where I feel Mysore-mysore the most outside of India. It’s the similarity in the process, the continuously rolling in and out of students, finishing postures in another room, the practice-generated heat.

And then, there’s Hamish, very down-to-earth, friendly but also straight to the point sort of man who is among the small number of certified teachers in the tradition. In Mysore, it’s impossible to not meet a student of Hamish’s. And if you speak to them, impossible to miss the tone of love and respect they have for their London teacher and shala. His presence, very much his own, is not so dissimilar to Sharath's non-obtrusiveness. I felt very much how he gave me space, knowing full well I need to do my own work. But I also felt his compassion, how knowing I have not practiced with anyone for a long time, he tried to give me as much support as I needed, inviting me to try new things, giving me something new thing to work on. 

I've been told that Hamish is a teacher's teacher, with many London ashtanga teachers attending Mysore either before or after their own classes, many assisting him as well.  And you can feel that in the assistance, very skilled and sensitive. And you can see that in the room: some really amazing practices, intermediate A, B, not uncommon. The depth of practice, no matter what level, the concerted effort, full deep breath is truly prevalent in the room. And it was a joy to be there myself, even for a handful of days, practicing in the thick of it.

This morning, I returned to my mat, returned to my solo practice. Again, not easy. I couldn't even break a sweat with this fresh spring air in Barcelona, my body stiff from travel yesterday. But I feel good, that even that bit of time in such a room, with such a teacher, has given me some "homework"to stoke my practice.

A wonderful companion to yoga practice:
It starts: "Before you start reading this book breathe long and deep.
This in the only practice in this book and may be the most important."
Yes!

Yoga Dharma is on sale at Dharma Shala.

  

committed

Portable portrait of Guruji (Sri K. Pattabhi Jois), which travels with me.
Makeshift altar at La Zone, Maadi in Cairo, where I am subbing for friend Iman Elsherbiny. 

It's not perfect. But I've stuck to it--out of some deep internal compulsion, out of a great need and desire, out of love. And even though, on occasion, especially as the alarm harps on at crazy o'clock in the morning and there is this small sense of drudgery, that oh-here-we-go-again! feeling, mostly I wake up joyfully knowing that I will be met with both its unpredictable spontaneity and steady consistency. My eyes open and I am happy to breathe with it. The longing does not abate. I know that it is there for me, waiting and welcoming. Mostly, I can't wait to be with it, to spend the hours touching an intimacy like no other.

After seven years, this is the longest relationship I have ever had, this partnership with this mad beautiful ashtanga practice.

I realize that I've never been so committed; that no other part of my life has ever received such attention, such loyalty, such love and devotion. And while that in itself may be flawed, I cannot help but feel gratitude that something has inspired me so, calling me on to act day after day with remarkable presence. Even if the sense of fullness is sometimes fleeting, it has made me look upon each day as filled with the potential for growth. It has inspired me to love in so many levels--to love yoga, to love the practice itself, to love my teachers, and to love my fellow beings. Most of all it has helped me cultivate a profound sense of self love that I hadn't realized was even missing.

A couple of years ago, I wrote an article likening my relationship with the ashtanga practice to dating, that we'd moved beyond flirtation and how we were properly, happily seeing each other. And what a beautiful time that was, how joyful to see our bond blossom.

We've been through a lot more since then, the practice and I. 

There have had some golden moments. The last couple of years have taught us to be easy and comfortable with each other, more forgiving, more patient.  

But there have been difficulties too. Being with practice is not easy. Frustrations at feeling stalled have played on me. Things don't always move forward at the same lightning pace. Being unable to move beyond one posture, for example, made feel as if we'd reached a plateau, that nothing new was coming and I feared the stagnancy of routine. 
  
I phased through moments of doubts. I scrutinized our compatibility. I wondered whether we were truly right for each other, whether it could truly satisfy me, and whether I could truly represent it and be the kind of practitioner/teacher that I felt like I needed to be for it. I feared its rejection, that I wouldn't be good enough. And then there were times that I felt fidgety and nervous and craved for more. I had to ask: could I truly commit? 

And, yet, here we are: wandering the world together, navigating the strange unknown with remarkable strength and flexibility, adapting to different cultures, coping with the stress of work, travel and movement, being mutually supportive but allowing each other the space to be. I could not imagine this life of mine now without it. 

The question of commitment, a non issue at this point, as I survey my life of, well, commitment to practice. The challenges come and go, yet the practice remains, however sweet, however difficult. It would not have stuck around if I hadn't willed it. If I hadn't stepped on to the mat and breathed it into my body day after day.

These days, I feel committed on a whole new level. 

That while the practice continues to be deeply personal, it has also become greater. That by teaching, my relationship with my own practice now extends to others. 

The authorization, the blessing from Sharath Jois to teach, I must admit, has brought a new sense of commitment to it. Fear, as well. Like a marriage, it feels a great deal more official. More serious. There is a greater sense of responsibility and accountability on my part. That comes with its own set of worries. But this, too, we are navigating together. The practice seems to understand my deeply ingrained fear of commitment and makes no demands. It accepts me just as I am. It bends to my need for independence, it allows me to be the autonomous, creative being that I need to be. 

And what I've realized is, that despite the piece of paper, the intricacies of our relationship is up to us, that we create the kind of loving, respectful exchange that works, that allows love to simply flow easily. 

Want to read more about the evolution of this constantly changing relationship to practice? To read the "dating yoga" blog article: http://realizingmysore.blogspot.jp/2011/12/dating-yoga.html