(*and a small tangent on drishti)
I had interesting back-to-back class experiences last week that struck me as a lesson in extremes and looking for just right.
The first experience was a new class for me, in a new studio, with a new teacher.
The class was called “Alignment Based Moon Practice.” I was interested, especially, because I hope to focus on alignment if/when I ever decide to teach. I believe that a debilitating disc injury in my lower back several years ago was exacerbated by my lack of attention to posture and alignment in yoga and I want to prevent the same injury from happening to others.
My teacher training is based in the vinyasa tradition, but I hope to learn about and incorporate elements of Iyengar, which is a tradition focused on detail, precision, and alignment in the asanas.
The class was very gentle: our instructor explained it as being a “warm-up” to yoga. We didn’t move much at all, but used props like blocks and belts to slowly adjust our hips, feet, and shoulders as we moved. The teacher’s style was to work with the specific individuals present, with their bodies, experiences, and limitations.
Because of this, she explained, she does not go into teaching with a set sequence or plan in mind. She adapts on the spot and changes course when needed. It didn’t feel like much of a workout, but it got me paying attention to different parts of my body during movement.
I also got a better understanding of drishti. Like “ujjayi breath,” “drishti” is a word I’ve heard instructors say before (as in, “use your drishti”), but I had no idea what it meant. I assumed it was like “focus.”
But durning a gentle twist, the instructor asked us to go as far as we could and then use our eyeballs alone to look even further. As we settled on a further gaze, she told us to inhale and, on our exhale, to see if our bodies could move a bit further in the direction we were looking.
Well, holy shit! It totally did! I couldn’t believe how much further I twisted and when I exclaimed so (out loud to the class), she explained that this was using drishti: using vision to overcome an imaginary barrier.
drishti: using vision to overcome an imaginary barrier
I’ll be damned if that definition alone isn’t full of more metaphors than one writer can come up with. (And for more on drishti, click here.)
Fast forward to further in the week, my next class, a 5:30am vinyasa flow in a studio I’m used to and love and always has me sweating and breathing hard.
I do find that it moves at pace a bit too fast for me. Especially when we move into asanas that I’ve got to take my time with to get alignment right, like Warrior I, Half Moon, and Shoulder Stand. By the time we get to the last poses, at the end of class, I’m usually wondering if the instructor is trying to fit too much into too short of time and rushing us along to get to everything she’d planned.
I don’t mean to judge one way or another: the reflection worksheets we fill out after attending a class asks: “Is there anything you would have done differently, viewing from the seat of a teacher?”
I pick up on things in any class I attend that I might do differently, but can also see how hard it would be to get everything like Goldilocks would want in yoga: not too much, not too little, but just right.
Breath. Posture. Cue. 