Namasté


Welcome. I am not a former dancer and I have never been to Mysore. I am an artist, painting professor and long-time Ashtanga practitioner who tries to keep up a daily practice of yoga to stave off the aches and pains of middle-age. If I have gained any wisdom about this practice it has come from some wonderful teachers and from my own experiences on the mat over a long number of years.
- Michael Rich

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Begin at the Beginning

Virabhadrasana A - Photo by Robert Sturman
This afternoon, at Bristol Yoga Studio, we will begin the first of a 4-part workshop series on the Ashtanga yoga practice.  Beginning at the beginning, we will look at cultivating the rhythms of the breath in the Sun Salutations, break down the postures of the standing sequence (including appropriate adjustments for all you teachers) and finish with a brief introduction to closing down the practice, clearing the path for meditation and pranayama practices.

Really, this first bit of the primary series contains the whole of the Ashtanga practice and method.  The foundation here is in linking breath to movement to cultivate a practice that is meditation in motion.  The simplicity of the standing postures - now found commonly is most vinyasa-style classes, allows one to enter the practice as a dance to the divine.  Effort and attention should be appropriately placed on cultivating the bandhas and maintaining a full and steady breath.  The seated and reclining postures that come later are mostly variations on the posture shapes found in the standing sequence and use gravity or the leverage of the folded body to deepen the experiences found in the opening postures. So it's important to get your grounding in the standing sequences in order to set a firm foundation for all the practices that follow.
Vande Gurunam - see you on the mat!

Thursday, March 14, 2013

My Partner is the Divine

Travel, snow days and parking bans have been the reality of this yoga teacher this past month.  Substitute teachers (thank you all for stepping in during my absence), and cancelled classes have left me wondering where my students are in their practices.

Practicing at Home, Baddha Padmasana
I've been there, on the mat, 6 days a week as I have been for I don't know how long now.  At home while the snow is coming down and the wind is blowing outside, in hotel rooms and hotel gyms (Not a great experience, that!) and blessedly for a few practices at Eddie Stern's studio in New york. The practice is a constant companion in my life, through good and bad - days when I feel like it and days when I drag my sorry, sleepy self to the mat.  I'm a lone wolf Ashtangi, a vigilante - independent but doggedly determined.  So when I asked Eddie a few questions about the practice and he replied, "Who is your teacher?" I had to pause.  Right now, I'm without one.  Books by Gregor Maehle and YouTube videos by Kino don't cut it.  They aren't there to guide you when you find yourself in new territory.  They can't explain the depths of a practice that you begin to experience.  I am feeling the absence of a good and steady teacher.

So, a lot happens when you practice six days a week.  Your time is different, your day is different because you have taken care of yourself, paid attention to your practice.  You are better able to focus on the things that are important in your life. You make progress physically very quickly.  Things that once seemed impossible, become routine.  A posture that you might have struggled with for years suddenly becomes available to you, as if you could always manage it if only you got out of your own way.  And when you find yourself in these new postures - guess what happens?  Nothing.  No one claps, there is no reward, no medal or certificate given out, no congratulatory phone calls from Mysore, no enlightenment.  Nothing, nada, zippo.  You keep going because there is always further to go, always another posture or movement to work through, always deeper to go.  

But it was never the point.  Yoga is not about the achievement of postures.  And this is where I am back to thinking about my students.  In class, there is a palpable feeling amongst yoga students of wanting to achieve postures and really trying very hard to get there.  They see others in the room moving easily into one thing or another, binding in some way or floating a lotus while their's is stuck on the ground.  As a teacher you say "breathe, do your own practice, this is not a performance, stay in the moment, don't compare yourself to others."  You know the phrases - I wonder if any of this sticks.  It takes a smile, a hand on the back to get a student to let go, to relax and experience where they are.

This is where a solo, home practice can serve you well.  There is no one to look at or compare yourself to.  You can create a space in your home and life that is just how you want it, step into that and be with the practice.  You look around for the teacher and she is there - in the practice.  Pay attention and the grace and wisdom that are part of yoga will speak to you.

As I said in a recent workshop (Thank you Lindsay Green for the notes!)  "Yoga is about moving with grace. A dance with the body connected through the breath. A way of preparing to receive the divine from above. Courting grace - making divine your dance partner.  Trying to recognize a version of God within ourselves and everyone else and surrendering to that supreme being."

So go it alone sometimes and see where you are.  Search, explore, play and break the rules.    But do come back to class - I miss you!




Sunday, December 30, 2012

"If It Hurt's, You're Doing It Wrong"

I have been slowly composing another post on devotion - a topic I have been thinking about a lot lately in relation to my practice but I wanted to weigh in on another topic that is close to my heart.

Stiff, old man yogi finds his lotus late in life
If one were to believe the accounts by William Broad in the New York Times, The Perils of Yoga for Men, 12-22-12, then emergency rooms should be chock full of men suffering from yoga injuries.  These stories get me - not because they aren't true - but because the miss entirely the larger point.  It's a simple as this - if you get injured practicing yoga, you weren't actually practicing yoga at all.  You might be in a yoga "class" and you might be working with a yoga "teacher", but you are not practicing yoga.  The idea is to prepare the body to make it fertile for the awakening that follows.  The physical practice should lead to healing, strength, flexibility and good health.  Coming to the yoga mat to blow out your knees is not the idea.  Why would you pay good money to go to a yoga class, only to limp out?  Or worse, why would you pay to work with a teacher who hurts their students?

As David Williams frequently says, "If it hurts, you're doing it wrong."  Injuries are not "openings". Pain in yoga, usually means a tear to tissue or connective tissue.  Adrenaline rushes to the site of the tear and in time, scar tissue forms making it less likely you will gain flexibility in that area and are then likely to re-injure yourself.  This is counter to the sensation of a good but intense stretch where endorphins are flowing through the body delivering healing energy.

I can only speak to my own experience in yoga and as a teacher in what I observe in my students.  As a man who came to yoga late in life plagued by back and knee injuries, I sought out this practice to heal my body.  It's only natural at times to want to go further, to push beyond one's limits and I know I have.  However the body will give you feedback.  Maybe it's being an older practitioner, but I listen closely to that feedback now.  I examine my practice closely to see where I am pushing too far, trying too hard or expecting too much.  I avoid for a while, those postures which I even suspect are causing the discomfort and slowly work back to them over time - or not.  For example, I dropped chakrasana, the backward somersault, out of my practice all together years ago and my neck is happier for it.  I was heartened to learn that many senior teachers have also dropped this part of their practice.  While I have yet to attain enlightenment of any kind, at least I feel good after a practice, not worse. (An interesting thing about the ashtanga sequences is that there is a great deal of wisdom built into this practice.  One posture leads to another, allowing the body to open up over time.  If you want to move deeper into a particular posture, then it is a good idea to go back through the sequence to see where the foundations of that posture lie and how to move into it safely, over time.)  Go slow, yoga is a long term project.

In my classes, I have learned over time to assist students only with alignment with the intention of keeping their practice safe rather than using assists to push a student deeper into a posture.  Most type-A ashtangis are already as far into the posture as they can go.  Often a better assist is a verbal cue or a gentle hand suggesting where to relax and let go in the posture.  Use an assist to support and keep your students safe - they are more likely to come back that way.  One essential task is to challenge your students to explore their edge but to diffuse any competitiveness brewing in the class - even if the student is competing with themselves.  This is especially true when considering the men in your class who tend to harbor these competitive tendencies.

So, no - yoga is not a practice that leads to injuries.  Ahimsa (non-violence) begins at home in your body or in your class.  Do no harm to yourself as a practitioner or to your students and soon you will see the great healing potential that yoga holds.

Postscript: I came across this video of Eddie Stern (one of those fabulous teachers who doesn't push too far but pays close attention to his students) interviewing Moby about how he came to yoga.  Moby has been on my practice playlist for years, I had no idea he practiced yoga.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Thank You

Thank you to the Motion Center, Providence for hosting the early morning Ashtangis these last few years.  I will miss the sunrise from this beautiful space!  But all good things come to an end, so for now, I'll be catching that same sunrise from my home practice space.

To my students whom I've had the great pleasure to meet and guide through this practice, thank you.  Thank you for your kindness, your dedication and for teaching me how to be a better teacher by paying closer attention to you and remaining a constant student of this practice.

Best wishes in the new year ahead.  I hope to see you on the mat again soon.  My classes at Bristol Yoga will be continuing for the foreseeable future.  Maybe I'll see you there!

Namasté
Michael

Friday, November 16, 2012

The Art of Yoga

New Images by Robert Sturman, Nantucket Island, October 2012.  Shannah and I had a wonderful day creating art through yoga with Robert.











Monday, October 22, 2012

The Sea and the Photographer

I'm just back from a weekend on Nantucket where I got to work with the terrific photographer, Robert Sturman.  I was a bit apprehensive about making my practice an opportunity for a photo shoot.  What I found is that Robert genuinely sees his work as a collaboration - that yoga is a form of expression of the body and the exuberance of the human spirit.  Somehow his work really manages to capture that.  So I was deeply honored to spend a chilly, windy morning on the beach making art with Robert.  I can't wait to see the rest of the pictures from the shoot.

Photo by Robert Sturman
















And of course - this darling video of another great shoot by Robert:


Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Vande Gurunam Charanaravinde

I bow to the lotus feet of the Gurus...

opening sanskrit Opening Prayer

At the beginning of class in Ashtanga Yoga, we usually offer up this mantra beyond the traditional OM or three OMs.  I know from both leading classes and being in them, this can be awkward at first.  Students wonder if they are not dipping their toes in a bit of Hinduism they don't understand or have suddenly found themselves in some sort of cult practice.  But then, soon enough, we are moving and breathing and forgetting all about the odd tradition until the next time.  In time we can even come to look forward to the practice of mantra, letting the sound create a barrier between our day and our practice time.  There is a sacred feeling that comes from opening with sound prayer, regardless of our level of understanding.
opening translit Opening Prayeropening english Opening Prayer
Here's what I think about it by way of a story.  The one time I was lucky enough to study with Guruji in New York, almost a decade ago now, there were hundreds of people in the room.  Guruji walked in (in his trademark Calvin Klein boxers and gold chains) and we chanted, then it was "Ekam inhale..." and off we went.  From my vantage point in the front of the room, I looked back while in down dog, seeing the crowded room full of Ashtangis moving and breathing in unison.  An amazing sight!  Among the crowd were many of the senior teachers I had studied with at some point and others I had only heard about along with practitioners of all levels.  At the end of practice, Guruji would sit and folks would line up to bring him flowers, take a picture, and touch his feet.  Practicing in that room gave me such deep respect for what this man had sown worldwide to inspire us all to practice Ashtanga - but no way was I going to bow and touch his feet.  I don't do the Guru thing.  As the week progressed, I began to soften but still, I held back and watched the procession from my mat.  On one occasion during practice, Guruji came behind me while in badha konasana and stood on my knees.  He leaned over, smiled at me, laughed and patted my back.  "Why fear?" he said. (I was fearing I would never walk or have a deep voice again at the moment...)  His warmth, his command of the room and his smile made it impossible to continue to hold back.  So, like everyone else, I got in line, bowed with reverence and touched his feet.  When I looked up, he was already greeting the next person.  What was a big deal for me was not so much for him.  He had done his part but I felt transformed.
Now, all these years later, I think about him every time I roll out the mat.  Inevitably, I think about the other wonderful teachers I have had over the years throughout my practice.  I hear their corrections, their words of encouragement, the little jokes and I feel their presence with me.  On a good day, one by one they leave the room, leaving me alone with my breath.  During challenging times, they inspire me to keep going.
Yogis refer to this passage of knowledge that happens between teacher and student as Parampara.  It is a transmission that occurs in order to create a lineage that is as much energetic as it is knowledge based.  Meaning, that true "knowing" comes from an understanding gained through experience with the teacher or Guru over time.
So corny as it is, I have been thinking of these teachers and wanting to bow long distance to them - to acknowledge all they have done for me.  The "Gurus" referred to in the opening mantra is plural - meaning all the teachers on whose shoulders we stand across the stretches of time.  So, teachers of mine, past and present, I bow to you.

Guruji


Shri K. Pattabhi Jois - has to come first.  Though I never felt that he was my guru, none of this would be possible if not for his teachings and what he has spread throughout the world.  So first, Guruji, I bow to you.


David Swenson


Of all the senior Ashtanga teachers, David is the one from whom I have learned the most.  I first learned the Primary Series from his videotape on a tiny TV set in the corner of the studio what seems like a long time ago now.  Over the years I have done numerous workshops and teacher trainings with him and am grateful for any time I get to spend practicing with him.  Through his books and videos but more importantly his patient teaching, David teaches the practice clearly and solidly, providing the basis for lifelong continued practice.  He is also just goddam funny.  You will never laugh as much as you might in a David Swenson class!  David, I bow to you.

David Williams
Only a few times now have I practiced with David Williams but what he says is so simple and clear "If it hurts, you're doing it wrong."  He has made it his mission to teach Ashtanga the way it was meant to be taught, as a healing practice after seeing so many students get injured or be injured in a class.  He has practiced daily for over forty years and speaks with real authority about how to practice safely over time so that your practice stays with you for life and benefits your life.  I subscribe to his notion that the person who practices tomorrow is the one who has a good experience on the mat today.  This has truly shaped my teaching and my own practice for the better.  David, I bow to you and can say that with your inspiration, I have practiced daily for some time now.

Tom Gillette
Tom opened his studio, Eyes of the World, in Providence at about the same time that I moved back to Providence about 12 years ago.  I was relatively new to yoga, had been doing a lot on my own and in classes where I could find them but Tom's studio gave me a practice home.  In those early days, I went to every class I could, soaking in all I could from this wonderful, gifted teacher.  What I always get from Tom is a sense of the larger purpose of yoga.  That the postures are not the whole practice and that we need to take ourselves less seriously.  He has great humor and compassion and his classes are always wonderful.  I am proud to have completed teacher training with Tom and see that experience as one of the most important in my life.  I haven't been to "Eyes" in a while, I confess as I am focused on my personal practice these days but I would send anyone to study with Tom to deepen their understanding of yoga.  Tom, I bow to you.

The Bride
I have to give props to my lovely bride, Shannah Green, who first showed me yoga on my back porch in Savannah as I stumbled around looking for ways to heal my twisted spine.  Years of working construction had led to these painful episodes where my low back would give out and I would be immobile for days and in great pain.  I took to yoga right away and then later started with Shannah's classes in the Twin Street Barn (you Nantucketers may remember).  She's a remarkable teacher and has built an amazing community of teachers and students in the studio that we built on Nantucket.  One side effect of having a child is that you can rarely take your spouses class so we are not often in the same room when yoga is involved except on retreat.  Nonetheless, we share as teachers now our experiences in the classroom.  I'm eternally grateful for the introduction to this practice.  So, dear (if you read this), I bow to you.

I have had very few classes with Jillji but having picked up where she left off teaching Ashtanga in Providence, we have had occasions to overlap.  I have learned a great deal about teaching yoga through watching her.  If you have the opportunity to seek Jill out and attend a Mysore intensive, you will be transformed.  Her energy is infectious, and her enthusiasm and knowledge of the practice is vast, stemming from a deep personal practice.  So Jill, down there in Farmville, I bow to you.

I could go on... there have been too many teachers over the years that I need to thank and honor, Nancy Gilgoff for showing me the healing aspects of Ashtanga... sister in-law and Iyengar instructor extraordinaire, Debby Green for helping me to understand the deep meaning of externally rotating my upper femurs, Danny Paradise for his life as yogi, artist and traveler by example... and on and on.

I bow to you - Namasté.