Sit back and relax. Take in these images and see if you can sense theunderlying pattern: the flow of the seasons, the rise and fall of the
tides in response to the moon, a baby fern unfurling, a Ravi Shankar
sitar raga or Ravel's "Bolero," the creation and the dissolution of a
Tibetan sand mandala, the flow of Suryanamaskar (Sun Salutation).
What do these diverse phenomena have in common? They are all vinyasas,
progressive sequences that unfold with an inherent harmony and
intelligence. "Vinyasa" is derived from the Sanskrit term nyasa, which
means "to place," and the prefix vi, "in a special way"—as in the
arrangement of notes in a raga, the steps along a path to the top of a
mountain, or the linking of one asana to the next. In the yoga world
the most common understanding of vinyasa is as a flowing sequence of
specific asanas coordinated with the movements of the breath. The six
series of Pattabhi Jois's Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga are by far the best
known and most influential.
Jois's own teacher, the great South Indian master
Krishnamacharya, championed the vinyasa approach as central to the
transformative process of yoga. But Krishnamacharya had a broader
vision of the meaning of vinyasa than most Western students realize. He
not only taught specific asana sequences like those of Jois's system,
but he also saw vinyasa as a method that could be applied to all the
aspects of yoga. In Krishnamacharya's teachings, the vinyasa method
included assessing the needs of the individual student (or group) and
then building a complementary, step-by-step practice to meet those
needs. Beyond this, Krishnamacharya also emphasized vinyasa as an
artful approach to living, a way of applying the skill and awareness of
yoga to all the rhythms and sequences of life, including self-care,
relationships, work, and personal evolution.
Desikachar, Krishnamacharya's son, an author and renowned
teacher in his own right, has written, "Vinyasa is, I believe, one of
the richest concepts to emerge from yoga for the successful conduct of
our actions and relationships." In his book Health, Healing, and Beyond
(Aperture, 1998), he gives a subtle yet powerful example of how his
father attended to the vinyasa of teaching yoga. Krishnamacharya, to
the amazement of his private students, would always greet them at the
gate of his center, guide them through their practice, and then honor
the completion of their time together by escorting them back to the
gate.
The way he honored every phase of their session—initiating the
work, sustaining it and then building to a peak, and completing and
integrating it—illustrates two of the primary teachings of the vinyasa
method: Each of these phases has its own lessons to impart, and each
relies on the work of the previous phase. Just as we can't frame a
house without a proper foundation, we can't build a good yoga practice
unless we pay attention to how we begin. And just as a house is flawed
if the workmen don't finish the roof properly, we have to bring our
actions to completion in order to receive yoga's full benefits. Vinyasa
yoga requires that we cultivate an awareness that links each action to
the next—one breath at a time.
Initiating a Course of Action
Applying vinyasa in your yoga practice and daily life has many
parallels not just to building a house but also sailing a boat. Like
sailing, moving through life demands a synchronization with natural
forces that requires skill and intuition, the ability to set a course
yet change with the wind and currents. If you want to sail, you have to
know how to assess the conditions of the weather—blustery, calm,
choppy—which constantly fluctuate, as do our physical, emotional, and
spiritual states.
The teachings of yoga include a view called parinamavada,
the idea that constant change is an inherent part of life. Therefore,
to proceed skillfully with any action, we must first assess where we
are starting from today; we cannot assume we are quite the same person
we were yesterday. We are all prone to ignoring the changing conditions
of our body-mind; we often distort the reality of who we are based on
who we think that we should be. This can show up on the yoga mat in any
number of inappropriate choices: engaging in a heating, rigorous
practice when we're agitated or fatigued; doing a restorative practice
when we're stagnant; going to an advanced yoga class when a beginning
class better suits our experience and skills. In order to avoid such
unbeneficial actions, we need to start out with an accurate assessment
of our current state.
So what are the observations a good yogic sailor should make
before initiating a vinyasa? Like checking out the boat, wind, and
waves before you sail, an initial survey of your being can become an
instinctive ritual. Ask yourself: What is my energy level? Am I raring
to go? Holding any tension? Am I experiencing any little physical
twinges or injury flare-ups? Do I feel balanced and ready to sail into
my practice? How is my internal state? Am I calm, agitated, focused,
scattered, emotionally vulnerable, mentally overloaded, clear and open?
These questions are relevant to how we begin any action, not
just our asana practice. In choosing what foods we eat, when we sleep,
our conversations and our actions with others—everything that we do—we
must understand where we are coming from and choose actions that
address any imbalances.
In teaching my students about vinyasa, I offer them ways of
checking in with their current state at the start of their session. I
also will suggest specific strategies for addressing impediments that
may break up the flow of their practice. For example, on the bodily
level students can choose a more calming practice or one that provides
them with a more invigorating opening. If they have a twinge in the
lower back, they might want to modify certain postures, perhaps
substituting Bhujangasana (Cobra Pose) for Urdhva Mukha Svanasana
(Upward-Facing Dog Pose). If they're suffering from typical urban
tensions in the neck and shoulders, they can use a small series of
stretches—a mini-vinyasa, you might say—to encourage softening and
release. On a more internal level, agitated students can focus on
releasing tension by relaxing the face and breath; if their energy is
more lethargic and diffused, they can focus on their drishti, or gaze, to increase their concentration.
The same insight that we use on the yoga mat can be applied to
the way that we initiate actions elsewhere in our lives. Are you
feeling anxious on your way to a big appointment? Drive more slowly and
listen to some calming music to ensure that this imbalance doesn't
carry over into your meeting. Such adjustments do not show an
unwillingness to accept what is or a compulsive attempt to fix
everything until it is just right. Rather, they are evidence of a deep
awareness of and appropriate response to reality. A yogic sailor
embraces the changing winds and current and the challenge of setting
course in harmony with the ebb and flow of nature.
Sustaining Power
Once you've properly assessed conditions and initiated action,
you can focus on the next phase of vinyasa: building up your power,
your capacity for a given action. Power is the sailor's ability to tack
with the wind, a musician's ability to sustain the rise and fall of a
melody, a yogi's deepening capability for absorption in meditation.
The vinyasa method has many teachings to offer about how to
build and sustain our capacity for action, both on and off the mat. One
of the primary teachings is to align and initiate action from our
breath—our life force—as a way of opening to the natural flow and power
of prana, the energy that sustains us all on a cellular level. Thus in
a vinyasa yoga practice, expansive actions are initiated with the
inhalation, contractive actions with the exhalation.
Take a few minutes to explore how this feels: As you inhale,
lift your arms up over your head (expansion); as you exhale, lower your
arms (contraction). Now try this: Start lifting your arms as you
exhale, and inhale as you lower your arms. Chances are that the first
method felt intuitively right and natural, while the second felt
counterintuitive and subtly "off."
This intuitive feeling of being "off" is an inborn signal that
helps us learn how to sustain an action by harmonizing with the flow of
nature. Just as a sagging sail tells a sailor to tack and realign with
the energy of the wind, a drop in our mental or physical energy within
an action is a sign we need to realign our course. In an asana, when
the muscular effort of a pose is creating tension, it's often a signal
that we are not relying on the support of our breath. When we learn how
to sustain the power and momentum of the breath, the result is like the
feeling of sailing in the wind—effortless effort.
To build real change in a student's capacity for action, Krishnamacharya utilized a method which he entitled vinyasa krama
("krama" means "stages"). This step-by-step process involves the
knowledge of how one builds, in gradual stages, toward a "peak" within
a practice session. This progression can include elements like using
asanas of ever-increasing complexity and challenge or gradually
building one's breath capacity.
Vinyasa krama is also the art of knowing when you have
integrated the work of a certain stage of practice and are ready to
move on. I frequently see students ignore the importance of this
step-by-step integration. On the one hand, some students will tend to
jump ahead to more challenging poses like Pincha Mayurasana (Forearm
Balance) before developing the necessary strength and flexibility in
less-demanding postures like Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward-Facing
Dog), Sirsasana (Headstand), Adho Mukha Vrksasana (Handstand), and
other, easier arm balances. The result: They strug-gle to hold
themselves up, becoming frustrated and possibly injured. These Type-A
students should remember that strain is always a sign that integration
of the previous krama has not yet occurred.
On the other hand, some students may congeal around the
comfort of a beginning stage and become stagnant; they often become
totally energized when given encouragement to open to a new stage which
they had written off as beyond their abilities.
The Art of Completion
All of us are better at some part of the vinyasa cycle than
others. I love to initiate action and catalyze change but have to
consciously cultivate the completion phase. As Desikachar explains it,
"It is not enough to climb a tree; we must be able to get down too. In
asana practice and elsewhere in life, this often requires that we know
how to follow and balance one action with another. In the vinyasa
method this is known as pratikriyasana, "compensation," or
literally counterpose-the art of complementing and completing an action
to create integration. Can you imagine doing asanas without a Savasana
(Corpse Pose) to end your practice? In vinyasa, how we complete an
action and then make the transition into the next is very important in
determining whether we will receive the action's entire benefit. These
days I invite my students to complete classes by invoking the quality
of yoga into the very next movements of their lives—how they walk,
drive, and speak to people once they leave the studio.
Pathways of Transformation
It is important to remember a vinyasa is not just any sequence
of actions: It is one that awakens and sustains consciousness. In this
way vinyasa connects with the meditative practice of nyasa
within the Tantric Yoga traditions. In nyasa practice, which is
designed to awaken our inherent divine energy, practitioners bring
awareness to different parts of the body and then, through mantra and
visualization, awaken the inner pathways for shakti (divine
force) to flow through the entire field of their being. As we bring the
techniques of vinyasa to bear throughout our lives, we open similar
pathways of transformation, inner and outer-step by step and breath by
breath.
Shiva Rea teaches vinyasa yoga and leads adventure
retreats and workshops around the world. You can reach her at
www.yogadventures.com
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