The Power Of Yoga, Time 2001

(Taken From www.time.com)

Christy Turlington

Stars do it. Sports do it. Judges in the highest courts do it. Let's do it: that yoga thing. A path to enlightenment that winds back 5,000 years in its native India, yoga has suddenly become so hot, so cool, so very this minute. It's the exercise cum meditation for the new millennium, one that doesn't so much pump you up as bliss you out. Yoga now straddles the continent — from Hollywood, where $20 million-a-picture actors queue for a session with their guru du jour,
to Washington, where, in the gym of the Supreme Court, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor and 15 others faithfully take their class each Tuesday morning.

Everywhere else, Americans rush from their high-pressure jobs and tune in to the authoritatively mellow voice of an instructor, gently urging them to solder a union (the literal translation of the Sanskrit word yoga) between mind and body. These Type A strivers want to become Type B seekers, to lose their blues in an asana (pose), to graduate from distress to de-stress. Fifteen million Americans include some form of yoga in their fitness regimen — twice as many as did five years ago; 75% of all U.S. health clubs offer yoga classes. Many in those classes are looking not inward but behind. As supermodel Christy Turlington, a serious practitioner, says, "Some of my friends simply want to have a yoga butt." But others come to the discipline in hopes of restoring their troubled bodies. Yoga makes me feel better, they say. Maybe it can cure what ails me.

Oprah Winfrey, arbiter of moral and literary betterment for millions of American women, devoted a whole show to the benefits of yoga earlier this month, with guest appearances by Turlington and stud-muffin guru Rodney Yee. Testimonials from everyday yogis and
yoginis clogged the hour: I lost weight; I quit smoking; I conquered my fear of flying; I can sleep again; it saved my marriage; it improved my daughter's grades and attitude. "We are more centered as a team," declared the El Monte Firefighters of Los Altos Hills, Calif.

Sounds great. Namaste, as your instructor says at the end of a session:
the divine in me bows to the divine in you. But let's up the ante a bit. Is yoga more than the power of positive breathing? Can it, say, cure cancer? Fend off heart attacks? Rejuvenate post-menopausal women? Just as important for yoga's application by mainstream doctors, can its presumed benefits be measured by conventional medical standards? Is yoga, in other words, a science ?

By even asking the question, we provoke a clash of two powerful cultures, two very different ways of looking at the world. The Indian tradition develops metaphors and ways of describing the body (life forces, energy centers) as it is experienced, from the inside out. The Western tradition looks at the body from the outside in, peeling it back one layer at a time, believing only what it can see, measure and prove in randomized, double-blind tests. The East treats the person; the West treats the disease. "Our system of medicine is very fragmented," says Dr. Carrie Demers, who runs the Center for Health and Healing at the Himalayan International Institute of Yoga Science and Philosophy of the USA in Honesdale, Pa. "We send you to different
specialists to look at different parts of you. Yoga is more holistic; it's interested in the integration of body, breath and mind."

The few controlled studies that have been done offer cause for hope. A 1990 study of patients who had coronary heart disease indicated that a regimen of aerobic exercise and stress reduction, including yoga, combined with a low-fat vegetarian diet, stabilized and in some cases
reversed arterial blockage. The author Dr. Dean Ornish is in the midst of a study involving men with prostate cancer. Can diet, yoga and meditation affect the progress of this disease? So far, Ornish will say only that the data are encouraging.

To the skeptic, all evidence is anecdotal. But some anecdotes are more than encouraging; they are inspiring. Consider Sue Cohen, 54, an accountant, breast-cancer survivor and five-year yoga student at the Unity Woods studio in Bethesda, Md. "After my cancer surgery," Cohen
says, "I thought I might never lift my arm again. Then here I am one day, standing on my head, leaning most of my 125-lb. body weight on that arm I thought I'd never be able to use again. Chemotherapy, surgery and some medications can rob you of mental acuity, but yoga
helps compensate for the loss. It impels you to do things you never thought you were capable of doing."

A series of exercises as old as the Sphinx could prove to be the medical miracle of tomorrow — or just wishful thinking from the millions who have embraced yoga in a bit more than a generation.

Yoga was little known in the U.S. — perhaps only as an enthusiasm of Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and other icons of the Beat Generation — when the Beatles and Mia Farrow journeyed to India to sit at the feet of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in 1968. Since then, yoga has endured more evolutions of popular consciousness than a morphing movie monster.
First it signaled spiritual cleansing and rebirth, a nontoxic way to get high. Then it was seen as a kind of preventive medicine that helped manage and reduce stress. "The third wave was the fitness wave," says Richard Faulds, president of the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health in
Lenox, Mass. "And that's about strength and flexibility and endurance."

At each stage, the most persuasive advocates were movie idols and rock stars — salesmen, by example, of countless beguiling or corrosive fashions. If they could make cocaine and tattoos fashionable, perhaps they could goad the masses toward physical and spiritual enlightenment.
Today yoga is practiced by so many stars with whom audiences are on a first-name basis — Madonna, Julia, Meg, Ricky, Michelle, Gwyneth, Sting — that it would be shorter work to list the actors who don't assume the asana. (James Gandolfini? We're just guessing.)

Read more: http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,106356,00.html#ixzz1PJMrUL59

David Duchovny practices Kundalini yoga; Julia Louis-Dreyfuss prefers Ashtanga. Sabrina the Teenage Witch stars Melissa Joan Hart and Soleil Moon Frye throw yoga parties. Jane Fonda cut out aerobics for it; Angelina Jolie buffed up for Tomb Raider with it. The newly clean
Charlie Sheen used yoga and dieting to shed 30 lbs. Add at least two Sex in the City vamps, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kristin Davis. All three Dixie Chicks. Sports stars from basketball legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar to Yankee pitcher Orlando (El Duque) Hernandez are
devotees. And speaking of athletes, who showed up the other day at Turlington's lower Manhattan haunt, the Jivamukti Yoga Center? Monica Lewinsky.

Where there's a yoga blitz, there must be yoga biz. To dress for a class, you need only some old, loose-fitting clothes — and since you perform barefoot, no fancy footwear. Yet Nike and J.Crew have developed exercise apparel, as has Turlington. For those who prefer stay-at-home
yoga, the video-store racks groan with hot, moving tapes. The Living Yoga series of instructional videos taught by Yee and Patricia Walden occupies five of the top eight slots on Amazon's vhs best-seller list.

"Vogue and Self are putting out the message of yoginis as buff and perfect," says Walden. "If you start doing yoga for those reasons, fine. Most people get beyond that and see that it's much, much more." By embodying the grace and strength of their system, Yee and Walden are
its most charismatic proselytizers — new luminaries in the yoga firmament.

"Madonna found it first, and I'm following in the footsteps of the stars," groans Minneapolis attorney Patricia Bloodgood. "But I don't think you should reject something just because it's trendy." Bloodgood had the bright idea to commandeer part of the lobby in the
office building where she works for a Monday-evening yoga class. Yoginis can spend a weekend at (or devote their lives to) such retreats as Kripalu, where each year 20,000 visitors take part in programs ranging from "The Science of Pranayama and Bandha" to African-drum workshops and singles weekends. In L.A. they can mingle with the glamourati at Maha Yoga (where students bend to the strains of the Beatles' Baby You're a Rich Man) or Golden Bridge (where celebrity moms take prenatal yoga classes).

Yoga is where you find it and how you want it, from Big Time to small town. In the Texas town of Odessa, Therese Archer's Body & Soul Center for Well-Being has 15 dedicated students, including an 18-wheeler diesel mechanic who drives 50 miles from Andrews, Texas, to
attend classes. "He is very West Texas," Archer says, "and I thought he would flip when he saw what we did." Yet in eight months the mechanic has sweated his way up from beginning to advanced work. At the 8 Count exercise studio in Monticello, Ga., Suzanne McGinnis runs a "yoga cardio class" that mixes postures with push-ups, all to the disco beat of tunes like Leo Sayer's You Make Me Feel Like Dancin'. As yoga classes go, this is not an arduous one, but the students don't know that. They grunt and groan exultantly with each stretch, and are happy
to relax when McGinnis stops to check her teaching aids: torn-out magazine pages and The Complete Idiot's Guide to Yoga.

So yoga can be fun or be made fun of; it can help you look marvelous or feel marvelous. These aspects are not insignificant. They demonstrate the roots yoga has dug into America's cultural soil — deep enough for open-minded researchers to consider how it might bloom into
a therapy to treat or prevent disease.

The sensible practice of yoga does more than slap a Happy Face on your cerebrum. It can also massage the lymph system, says Dr. Mehmet Oz, a cardiac surgeon at New York Presbyterian Hospital in Manhattan. Lymph is the body's dirty dishwater; a network of lymphatic vessels and
storage sacs crisscross over the entire body, in parallel with the blood supply, carrying a fluid composed of infection-fighting white blood cells and the waste products of cellular activity. Exercise in general activates the flow of lymph through the body, speeding up the filtering process; but yoga in particular promotes the draining of the lymph. Certain yoga poses stretch muscles that from animal studies are known to stimulate the lymph system. Researchers have documented the increased lymph flow when dogs' paws are stretched in a position
similar to the yoga "downward-facing dog."

Yoga relaxes you and, by relaxing, heals. At least that's the theory. "The autonomic nervous system," explains Kripalu's Faulds, "is divided into the sympathetic system, which is often identified with the fight-or-flight response, and the parasympathetic, which is identified
with what's been called the Relaxation Response. When you do yoga — the deep breathing, the stretching, the movements that release muscle tension, the relaxed focus on being present in your body — you initiate a process that turns the fight-or-flight system off and the Relaxation
Response on. That has a dramatic effect on the body. The heartbeat slows, respiration decreases, blood pressure decreases. The body seizes this chance to turn on the healing mechanisms."

But the process isn't automatic. Especially in their first sessions, yoga students may have trouble suppressing those competitive beta waves. We want to better ourselves, but also to do better than others; we force ourselves into the gym-rat race. "Genuine Hatha yoga is a balance of trying and relaxing," says Dr. Timothy McCall, an internist and the author of Examining Your Doctor: A Patient's Guide to Avoiding Harmful Medical Care. "But a lot of gym yoga is about who can do this really difficult contortion to display to everyone else in the class." The workout warriors have to realize that yoga is more an Athenian endeavor than a Spartan one. You don't win by punishing your body. You convince it, seduce it, talk it down from the ledge of ambition and
anxiety. Yoga is not a struggle but a surrender.

It may take a while for the enlightenment bulb to switch on — for you to get the truth of the yoga maxim that what you can do is what you should do. But when it happens, it's an epiphany, like suddenly knowing, in your bones and your dreams, the foreign language you've been studying for months. In yoga, this is your mind-body language.

In daily life, that gym-rat pressure is even more intense: our jobs, our marriages, our lives are at stake. Says McCall: "We know that a high percentage of the maladies that people suffer from have at least some component of stress in them, if they're not overtly caused by stress. Stress causes a rise of blood pressure, the release of catecholamines (neurotransmitters and hormones that regulate many of the body's metabolic processes). We know that when catecholamine levels
are high, there tends to be more platelet aggregation, which makes a heart attack more likely." So instead of a drug, say devotees, prescribe yoga. "All the drugs we give people have side effects," McCall says. "Well, yoga has side effects too: better strength, better balance, peace of mind, stronger bones, cardiovascular conditioning, lots of stuff. Here is a natural health system that, once you learn the basics, you can do at home for free with very little equipment and that
could help you avoid expensive, invasive surgical and pharmacological interventions. I think this is going to be a big thing."

McCall, it should be said, is a true believer who teaches at the B.K.S. Iyengar Yoga Center in Boston. But more mainstream physicians seem ready to agree. At New York Presbyterian, all heart patients undergoing cardiac procedures are offered massages and yoga during recovery. At
Cedars Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, cardiac doctors suggest that their patients enroll in the hospital's Preventive and Rehabilitative Cardiac Center, which offers yoga, among other
therapies. "While we haven't tested yoga as a stand-alone therapy," says Dr. Noel Bairey Merz, the center's director, patients opting for yoga do show "tremendous benefits." These include lower cholesterol levels and blood pressure, increased cardiovascular circulation and, as
the Ornish study showed, reversal of artery blockage in some cases.

Yoga may help post-menopausal women. Practitioners at Boston's Mind-Body Institute have incorporated forward-bending poses that massage the organs in the neuroendocrine axis (the line of glands that include the pituitary, hypothalamus, thyroid and adrenals) to bring
into balance whatever hormones are askew, thus alleviating the insomnia and mood swings that often accompany menopause. The program is not recommended as a substitute for hormone-replacement therapy, only as an adjunct.

Some physicians wonder why it would be tried at all. "Theoretically, if you pressed hard enough on the thyroid, you possibly could affect secretion," says Dr. Yank Coble, an endocrinologist at the University of Florida. "But it's pretty rare. And the adrenal glands are carefully protected above the kidneys deep inside the body. To my knowledge, there is no evidence that you can manipulate the adrenals with body positions. That'd be a new one."
Read more: http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,106356,00.html#ixzz1PJN8qJVV

In 1998 Dr. Ralph Schumacher, of the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, and Marian Garfinkel, a yoga teacher, published a brief paper on carpal tunnel syndrome in the Journal of the American Medical Association. The eight-week study determined that "a yoga-based regimen was more effective than wrist splinting or no treatment in relieving
some symptoms and signs of carpal tunnel syndrome." Letters to JAMA challenged the study's methodology. The authors replied that it was a preliminary investigation to determine if further research was merited. They said it was.

The most cited study around — Ornish's in 1990 — tested 94 patients with angiographically documented coronary heart disease, of whom 53 were prescribed yoga, group support and a vegetarian diet extremely low in fat — only 10% of total daily calories (most Americans consume 35% in fat; the American Heart Association recommends 30%). Cholesterol changes among the experimental group were about the same as if they had taken cholesterol-lowering drugs. After a year in the program, patients in this group showed "significant overall regression of coronary
atherosclerosis as measured by quantitative coronary arteriography."

Those in the control group "showed significant overall progression of coronary atherosclerosis." The findings were well received but open to a major challenge: that the severe diet, rather than yoga, may have been the crucial factor.

In 1998 Ornish published a new study, in the American Journal of Cardiology, stating that 80% of the 194 patients in the experimental group were able to avoid bypass or angioplasty by adhering to lifestyle changes, including yoga. He also argued that lifestyle interventions
would save money — that the average cost per patient in the experimental group was about $18,000, whereas the cost per patient in the control group was more than $47,000. And this time, Ornish says, he is convinced that "adherence to the yoga and meditation program was as
strongly correlated with the changes in the amount of blockage as was the adherence to diet."

Ornish hoped for more than the respect of his peers: he wanted action. "I used to think good science was enough to change medical practice," he says, "but I was naive. Most doctors still aren't prescribing yoga and meditation. We've shown that heart disease can be reversed. Yet doctors are still performing surgery; insurance companies are paying for medication — and they're not paying for diet and lifestyle-change education." (Medicare, however, recently agreed to pay for 1,800 patients taking Ornish's program for reversing heart disease.)

Why have so few studies tested the efficacy of yoga? For lots of reasons. Those sympathetic to yoga think the benefits are proved by millenniums of empirical evidence in India; those who are suspicious think it can't be proved. (Says Coble: "There seem to be no data to substantiate the argument that yoga can heal.") Further, its effects on the body and mind are so complex and pervasive that it would be nearly impossible to certify any specific changes in the body to yoga. The double-blind test, beloved of traditional researchers, is impossible when one group in a study is practicing healthy yoga; what is the control group to practice — bad yoga? Finally, the traditional funders of studies, the pharmaceutical giants, see no financial payoff in validating yoga: no patentable therapies, no pills. (Ornish's prostate-cancer study was funded by private organizations, including the Michael Milken Foundation.)

At the heart of the western medical establishment's skepticism of yoga is a profound hubris: the belief that what we have been able to prove so far is all that is true. At the beginning of the 20th century, doctors and researchers surely looked back at the beginning of the 19th
and smiled at how primitive "medical science" had been. A century from now, we may look back at today's body of lore with the same condescension.

"In modern medicine, we're actually doing a lot more guesswork than we let on," says Demers. "We want to say we understand everything. We don't understand half of it. It's scary how clueless we are." Desperate patients consult half a dozen specialists and get half a dozen
conflicting opinions. "Well, of course," Dr. Toby Brown, a Manassas, Va., radiologist says impatiently, "it's not as if medicine is a science." Hence the appeal of alternative medicine: aromatherapy, homeopathy, ginkgo biloba. Proponents may be crusading scientists or
snake-oil salesmen, but either way, their pitch falls on eager ears: each year Americans spend some $27 billion on so-called complementary medicine. "One lesson of the alternative health-care movement," McCall warns, "is that the public is not going to wait for doctors to get it
together."

Late last month the National Institutes of Health held the first major conference on mind-body research. "There is a major reason that many in biomedicine reject mind-body research: it is the pervasive sound of the popularizers," noted Dr. Robert Rose, executive director at the MacArthur Foundation's Initiative on mind, brain, body and health research. "The loudest voices, the most passionate and articulate spokespersons for the power of the mind to heal come not from the research community but from the growing number of gurus... the
hawkers on TV for alternative treatments, herbs, homeopathy, handbooks." Rose distinguished the nostrum pushers from those seeking to bring yoga and science together. "Thousands of research studies have shown that in the practice of yoga a person can learn to control such
physiologic parameters as blood pressure, heart rate, respiratory function, metabolic rate, skin resistance, brain waves and body temperature, among other body functions." Critics are quick to note that few of those studies were published in leading science journals.

Two oddities attend yoga's vogue. One is that America has the fittest people in the world, and the most obese. Yoga, typically, is practiced by the fit. Exercise, the care and feeding of body and
possibly mind, is their second career. The folks in urgent need of yoga are the ones who are at the fast-food counter getting their fries supersize; who would rather take a pill than devote a dozen hours a week to yoga; for whom meditation is staring glassily at six hours of football each Sunday; and who might go under the surgeon's knife more readily than they would ingest anything more Indian than tandoori chicken.

Here's another peculiarity: this ritual of relaxation is cresting at a cultural moment when noise and agitation are everywhere. We work longer hours, with TVs and portable radios blaring as the sound track for frantic wage slaves. If a teen isn't trussed to his headphones or plugged into a chat room, it's because his cell phone has just beeped. America is running in place, in the spa or at work. And after Letterman and Clinton, nobody takes the world seriously; everything is up for laughs.

In this modern maelstrom, yoga's tendency to stasis and silence seems at first insane, then inspired. The notion of bodies at rest becoming souls at peace is reactionary, radical and liberating. If it cures nagging backache, swell. But isn't it bliss just to sit this one out,
to freeze-frame the frenzy, to say no to all that and om to what may be beyond it, or within ourselves?

Reported by Deborah Fowler/Odessa, Lise
Funderburg/Philadelphia, Marc Hequet/Minneapolis, Alice Park/New York,
Anne Moffett/Washington, and Jeffrey Ressner and Stacie Stukin/Los
Angeles

Read more: http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,106356,00.html#ixzz1PJNWzz93

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The Practice of Surrender

Ishvara pranidhana is not about what your yoga can do for you, but

about approaching your practice in the spirit of offering.

By Shiva Rea (from yogajournal.com)

When I was an Ashtanga student in Mysore, I loved walking the several blocks to Pattabhi Jois's yoga shala
(school) for 4:30 a.m. practice. In the quiet darkness before dawn, the
side streets would be dotted with the neighborhood's sari-clad women
kneeling upon the earth in front of their homes drawing rangoli, intricate sacred diagrams (also known as yantras)
made by sifting rice flour between the fingers. Sometimes simple,
sometimes elaborate, these offerings to Lakshmi, the goddess of good
fortune and prosperity, were always vibrant-and destined to be erased
as soon as the streets filled with traffic. I was inspired by the
women's dedication, creativity, and lack of attachment to their
beautiful creations. As I became friends with some of the neighborhood women and they taught me a few simple rangoli, I learned that theseofferings are not merely duty or decoration, but creative meditations that invoke a connection to the Divine on behalf of everyone. As one
mother told me with a smile and an expansive wave of her hand, "These offerings remind me of the big picture, which helps me take care of the small things with love."

These morning offerings, like so many everyday rituals in India, embody the yoga practice of Ishvara pranidhana surrendering (pranidhana) to a higher source (Ishvara). Ishvara pranidhana is a "big picture" yoga practice: It initiates a sacred shift of perspective that helps us to remember, align with, and receive the grace of being alive.

Yet to many modern Westerners the idea of surrender as a virtue may seem strange. Many of us have only experienced surrendering to a higher source as a last resort, when we've confronted seemingly insurmountable problems or in some other way hit the edge of our individual will and
abilities. But in the Yoga Sutra, Patanjali transforms "surrender" from this sort of last-resort, emergency response into an essential ongoing practice. Patanjali repeatedly highlights Ishvara pranidhana as one of the five niyamas, or inner practices, of the ashta-anga (eight-limbed) path (Chapter II, verse 32) and, along with discipline (tapas) and self-study (svadhyaya), as part of kriya yoga, the threefold yoga of action (II.1).

For Patanjali, Ishvara pranidhana is a potent method for dissolving the endless agitations of the mind, and thus a means to the ultimate unified state of yoga: samadhi.
Why? Because Ishvara pranidhana shifts our perspective from the obsession with "I" with our narrow individual concerns and perspective that causes so much of the mind's distraction and creates a sense of separation from our Source. Since Ishvara pranidhana focuses not on ego but on the sacred ground of being, it reunites us with our true Self. As Indian yoga master B. K. S. Iyengar states in his Light on the Yoga Sutras (Thorsons, 1993), "Through surrender the aspirant's ego is effaced, and . . . grace . . . pours down upon him like a torrential rain." Like the
descent through layers of tension to rest in the release of Savasana (Corpse Pose),
Ishvara pranidhana provides a pathway through the obstacles of our ego toward our divine nature grace, peace, unconditional love, clarity, and freedom.

The Face of God

To practice Ishvara pranidhana, we must first start with our own intimate connection to the universe. In yoga, this is referred to as your Ishta-Devata. The yogic concept of Ishta-Devata recognizes that we each have our own, personal relationship with and taste of the Divine and that this serves as a powerful means of yoga (unification) for us. Traditionally, many sadhus
(monks) in India have revered the god Shiva in his role as the archetypal yogi. Many other Indians revere Vishnu, especially in his incarnations as Rama or Krishna. Still others are drawn to female manifestations of divinity, like Lakshmi or Kali or Durga. But Sri T. Krishnamacharya, probably the most influential figure in the spread of yoga to the West, advocated that Western yoga practitioners use their own language, imagery, and names of the sacred to deepen their
connection to Ishvara.

I have always been naturally drawn to Indian culture, but I'm sure I was also influenced by my Catholic grandmother's devotion to Mother Mary. When I was a child, I often found my grandma rapt in prayer, saying her rosary while lying on her bed under a picture of the blessed
Mother. Your Ishta-Devata can also take a more abstract form; my father, an artist, describes light as his way of seeing the Divine in nature, in people's eyes, in art. In yoga, Ishvara is understood as being beyond one form yet expressed through all forms, and thus is
often represented as the sacred syllable Om, as pure vibration. Your Ishta-Devata is the form that vibration takes within your own heart.

In the Yoga Sutra, Patanjali refers to this inner presence of Ishvara as our foremost teacher (I.26). Through intimate listening to this voice within us, we begin to have a relationship with inner guidance in all aspects of our life. When I think of my most important teachers, including my parents, I see that they were there not just for the big lessons but also in a thousand small ways, constantly showing me when I was on target or beginning to wander off the path, opening my being to new vistas and reminding me when I was closing myself to life. My experience of my inner teacher is similar: As my attunement to this inner sense of direction grows, it increasingly guides my thoughts, speech, and actions.

The Spirit of Offering
If Ishvara is the inner compass, pranidhana is remembering to stay connected to that essence not just occasionally but throughout the day. Ishvara pranidhana is also translated as "offering the fruits of one's actions to the Divine." As we consider how to make Ishvara pranidhana a
living part of our yoga, it's useful to look to India, where the act of offering pervades the culture. I found living there, even with all its challenges, really helped me understand how Ishvara pranidhana can be integrated into daily life. Throughout India, images of the Divine are
everywhere, and people of all ages are continuously making offerings of fruit, incense, and gestures, from Anjali Mudra (hands together at the heart) to full-body prostrations. At the local fruit stall, the merchant offers the money of his first sale at the altar on his cart;
your rickshaw driver touches the feet of an image of Krishna before zooming off; a neighborhood mother places the first spoonful of the meal before her kitchen shrine. As Ashtanga Vinyasa master Sri K. Pattabhi Jois enters the yoga room, his forehead always shows the
markings of his tilak, the sign that he has made his morning puja (offering). All these practices cultivate an underlying connection with the Source; "Me, me, me" starts to move into the background, and spiritual life moves more front and center.

The Way to Begin
For Americans, who seldom grow up with such a constant ritual life, establishing Ishvara pranidhana may require some extra attention and internal listening, much like the process of learning to take long, slow, and constant breaths in asana. Like breathing more deeply,
Ishvara pranidhana shouldn't feel strange or uncomfortable. The practice isn't really foreign to anyone, although it may feel a bit unfamiliar to Westerners. Anybody, regardless of spiritual orientation, can practice Ishvara pranidhana, and any action can be enhanced by this
practice. There is no inner state, emotion, or obstacle that is beyond the positive influence of Ishvara pranidhana. Remember, whether you are a natural bhakti (devotional) yogi or a complete skeptic, whether you are undertaking a simple act like cooking a meal or a challenging task like a difficult conversation, whether your state of mind is Joyous or confused, the whole mandala of life is the realm of Ishvara pranidhana.

Because the scope of Ishvara pranidhana is so vast, Western yoga practitioners often welcome a few practical guidelines to help them get started. Here are some arenas in which I've found Ishvara pranidhana to be especially useful: at the beginning of any action, as a way of shifting your perspective when faced with difficulty, and as a method for experiencing fully the simple acts of life. The yoga mat or meditation cushion is a wonderful "safe space," a "closed course," on
which you can test drive Ishvara pranidhana. As with any action in the world, the way you begin your practice can make a huge difference in how your yoga flows. Inner listening, setting your intention, chanting, and visualization are all formal ways of initiating Ishvara pranidhana.
I often begin my practice stretched out on my belly in full prostration, visualizing the lotus feet of the Goddess, my Ishta-Devata, in front of me. I breathe and empty the residue of the day and find that I am soon filled with an intuitive sense of direction, inspiration, and clarity that I experience as an inner compass, a teacher whose presence deepens throughout the practice.
Suryanamaskar (Sun Salutation) can also be a method of Ishvara pranidhana; in its origins, it was a moving prayer in which every breath offered the yogi's energy back to the sun.

As you practice asana, you can start treating challenging yoga posesas microcosms of life's difficulties, and thus great opportunities topractice the art of offering. In my own practice, I am becoming more and more able to recognize tension as a signal; holding and gripping are signs that my connection with Ishvara pranidhana is lessening. As Ioffer my tension back to the Source, emptying and surrendering again, Ivery often experience a boost of strength or a deepening of my breathand flexibility. Even more importantly, I experience a shift from my small, crowded inner world to a big picture of being alive. Then, as with the Mysore women's rice-flour offerings, the grace from theprocess remains even when the pose has dissolved.Because Ishvara pranidhana connects every action to its sacred source, Krishnamacharya is said to have described it as the most important yoga practice for the Kali Yuga we live in, an "Iron Age" in
which all humanity has fallen away from grace. Just as the Buddhist commitment to bringing awareness to every action is called mindfulness practice, Ishvara pranidhana could be called "heartfulness" practice; it awakens our constant devotion to the Source of life and keeps our
hearts open to the Divine in every moment, no matter what arises.

Shiva Rea lives in Malibu, California. She can be reached at www.yogadventures.com.

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Freeing Up The Soul, Can You See It ?

I still remember there was once right after yoga class session 2 years back, when I was laying on the mat in Savasana pose, I feel something. I feel there were some kind of energy emitted from each individual laying down, raising up to the roof of the room.  Could this just an illusion ? The energy raised up from each body laying down, and slowly move up. Could this be the soul in each one's heart ? It was so special and I never forget this experience and It is so alive each time when I recalled it back.

Each soul raising up and seems heading to the same direction above all. It was a bliss to be able to have such a special experience which really change my life after that.

Namaste !

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Consciousness In Motion

Vinyasa yoga teaches us to cultivate an awareness that links each action to the next—on the mat and in our lives.

By Shiva Rea (Taken From Yoga Journal)


Sit back and relax. Take in these images and see if you can sense the
underlying 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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Don't Hurry, Be Happy

Slow down, find the gap between thoughts about the past and the future, and discover the loveliness of an ordinary moment.

By Christina Feldman(Taken From http://www.yogajournal.com/practice/2568)

Like a new year's resolution, my commitment to give up hurrying for an entire year initially felt overly ambitious. Soon, though, I found that I could move very, very quickly without letting my mind engage in hurrying. In fact, before long it became obvious that hurrying had less to do with how fast I moved and more to do with my agitation and preoccupation with being somewhere I was not.

As I stopped fixating on where I was headed next, I became increasingly aware of the loveliness of the ordinary moments I'd been missing—the warmth of the sun on my face, the touch of my feet on the ground, the twittering of the birds in a nearby tree. So much that had escaped my attention came alive. The journey of going places became as important as the arrival; instead of waiting for something to begin or end, I discovered the pleasure of attending to what was happening right before me. And so, I have to admit, I've never been tempted to make hurrying part of my life again.

Life can be filled with countless lost moments. In the haste of juggling the demands of family, work, friends, and the needs of your own body and mind, your connection with the present is often replaced by a preoccupation with the future. Lost in thought and busyness, your attention is prone to simply slide over the surface of life. It is all too easy to miss the simple moments that make your heart sing: a child's laughter, a crisp snowflake resting on the windshield, the beat of your own heart.

You live and breathe amid the miracle of life. But for it to touch your heart, you need to be present. The precious moments of calm and stillness your heart longs for are born of your willingness to live the moment you are in. Yes, this very moment.

Addicted to Intensity

If you examine your life, you'll probably find that you are far more attentive to the dramatic and intense experiences that present themselves than to the moments when nothing seems to be happening. Excitement, success, love, and happiness are feelings you no doubt welcome and heroically pursue. And pain and sorrow generally inspire a heroism all their own as you strive to avoid or resist anything that might cause such discomfort.

You may find that it is only when all of your efforts at avoidance and distraction have been exhausted that you are willing to reluctantly attend to the difficult, and often you greet it not with curiosity about what the moment may hold, but with an agenda of fixing or getting rid of all that disturbs your heart.

Moments of drama have value if you approach them with mindfulness—they can heighten your awareness and awaken you to your experience. This point became crystal clear one day when I found myself sitting on a train beside a young man whose face and body were decorated with piercings. I asked if it wasn't excruciating to have so much inflicted on his body. He answered, "It is deeply painful, but it makes me feel so alive."

While you may not wear souvenirs of pain right on your face for all to see, chances are good that you, too, are an intensity addict, focusing much of your attention on life's pains and pleasures. A roller coaster ride, an exhilarating meditation, the excitement of a new love, or an exotic vacation offer a longed-for wakefulness and a sense of being fully alive. A broken heart, an illness, a lost opportunity, or a nasty argument can bring pain but can also capture and enliven your attention. Even routine busyness, which can be exhausting, offers apparent meaning, direction, and identity.

The dramas of life give the ego a sense of identity, so it's only natural that your mind holds fast to the pains and pleasures and duties it perceives. And yet there are so many events in life that are simply ordinary, neither exciting nor disturbing. Trees grow, birds fly, the sun shines, the rain falls. You go from morning to night breathing, walking, sitting, and moving—meeting countless moments, people, and events that you may barely notice.

Within these ordinary moments, the tendency is to disconnect; in general, these moments feel undeserving of your attention. You dismiss the ordinary as boring: lacking in richness, intensity, and completeness. Accustomed to externalizing happiness and vitality, you may begin to detect an inner unease or discontent in the midst of any moment that is neither dramatic nor intense.

But no one has a mind filled only with lovely, uplifting thoughts or a body always bursting with health and vitality. None of us has a meditation practice that is continually exciting and rapturous. Your days have countless ordinary moments—sitting on the bus, shopping, preparing a meal, answering the telephone, and walking from one place to another as you attend to all the ordinary tasks of your life. These moments are not less worthy because they are lacking in drama. They are filled with observations to delight in, strangers' hearts that can touch your own.

Delight Lives in You

Sometimes the ordinary can seem to deprive you of purpose and consequently of identity. To experience non-doing—to simply observe life instead of clinging to its most outrageous ups and downs—appears at first deeply uncomfortable in its unfamiliarity.

Often you'll find yourself using quiet moments as a springboard for the pursuit of some new, more exciting event. But if you can shed your intensity addiction long enough to experience the ordinary moments in your life, you will find that they are all doorways to the richness and vitality that live within your own heart. Instead of relying on a rush of external events to delight you, you will quickly find the delights of connecting to life just as it is, in this very moment.

When you celebrate the ordinary moments in life, you begin to connect with all that has gone unnoticed in both your inner and outer life. Awareness begins to permeate not just the juicy moments but the plain ones, too. And you begin to question the human inclination to externalize both happiness and unhappiness. You start to examine the long-held belief that your sense of wakefulness depends upon intensity.

By fostering awareness on your meditation cushion and bringing it into your daily life—simply noticing the normal sights and sounds that you often rush past or disregard—you begin to awaken your capacity to be delighted.

Delight does not live on a tropical beach or in a fantastic meal with friends. It lives within your own heart. When you honor each moment unconditionally by giving it your attention, you can't help but encounter delight in the small moments.

This is living in a sacred way, embracing with equal interest the lovely, the difficult, and the countless moments in your life that are neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Stepping out of an addiction to intensity, you reclaim lost moments in your days—you reclaim your life and the capacity for delight that lives within you.

Touching the Ordinary

Settle into a relaxed meditative posture. Close your eyes and rest your attention within your breathing. Scan your whole body, noticing the spectrum of sensations and feelings present in this moment. Notice how your attention is drawn toward those sensations that are either pleasant or unpleasant. Be aware of how you respond to these sensations—the way you delight in the pleasant and resist the unpleasant. Move your attention through your body, sensing the places where there's no sensation—the palms of your hands, your ears, the place where your lips touch. Bring your attention to these areas and feel how your interest, sensitivity, and calmness bring them to life. How can you see them in a new way? Sense what it means to rest within the ordinary, exploring the ease and peace you find.

Expand your attention to the range of external sounds. Notice the sounds that are pleasant and those that grate upon you. Sense the way you are attracted to those sounds you enjoy and resist those that are unpleasant. Notice the sounds of the ordinary—the hum of your refrigerator, the wind outside your window, the car passing on the street. Explore what it means to listen deeply to those sounds and to just rest in pure listening.

Bring your attention to the spectrum of thoughts passing through your mind—planning, remembering, worrying—attend to them all equally with a calm, unbiased attentiveness that sees their arising and their passing. What would it be like to rest in the seeing, allowing the mind to do what a mind does, without taking hold of any of the thoughts that appear?

Expand your awareness to receive everything that is present in this moment—your body, feelings, thoughts, sounds. Explore what it is to receive the moment, to rest in awareness. Sense the loveliness born of interest, connection, and ease, and the way your world is awakened by the attention you bring to it. What would it mean to bring these qualities into your life, to attend wholeheartedly to all that you neglect or dismiss?

Christina Feldman has been teaching insight meditation retreats since 1976. She's the author of a number of books, including Compassion: Listening to the Cries of the World and The Buddhist Path to Simplicity.

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Living Yoga - Poetry in Motion

(Taken From Shiva Rea)

The simple words of ancient poets provide divine inspiration for your yoga practice. In the quiet beginning of my practice as I start to listen to my breath, I often call to mind the yogic teachings of a beloved mystic poet who can transform my inner experience with just a few thunderbolt lines:

“O friend, understand: the body / is like the ocean, / rich with hidden treasures. / Open your innermost chamber and light its lamp” (The Essential
Mystics, HarperCollins, 1998).

Like a strong tide, these lines from the poet Mirabai instantaneously pull my mind from surface details toward the interior of my body. Whatever tension I bring to the mat softens, and my anticipation of the journey before me
grows. A few moments earlier, I was dragging myself to begin; now, by simply
remembering Mirabai’s invocation, I am inspired to open my body to the intimacy of
practice.

Like the great sages of yoga whose works are now classic texts, these beloved poets lived
long ago, their teachings transmitted orally for generations before being put down in
print. Some of India’s most revered poets, including Mirabai, Kabir, and Lalla, created
their verses from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries during the flowering of Bhakti
Yoga (the yoga of devotion). They are revered as much for the simple, passionate, and

often unconventional ways they lived their yoga as they are for their poetry.
Lalla (1320–1392) was a wandering yogini in Kashmir who left her marriage to devote
herself fully to yoga, a radical choice for a woman at that time. Her poems express her
absolute abandon to life: “My teacher told me one thing, / Live in the soul. / When that
was so, / I began to go naked, / and dance” (Naked Song, Maypop Books, 1992). Lalla
spent her days literally naked and dancing, a countercultural lifestyle that has never
interfered with her status as the greatest poet of Kashmir. Mirabai (1498–1546), a princess
of Rajasthan, became so consumed by her love for God that poetry poured out of her. She
too eventually left home, despite the protests of her family, to become one of the most
beloved saints of India. Also an iconoclast, Mirabai proclaimed,

“The energy that holds up mountains is the energy Mirabai bows down to” (The Enlightened Heart,HarperCollins, 1993).

Not all of the bhakti poets left home. Kabir (1440–1516), praised by Hindus and Muslims alike, spent most of his life in a tiny shop down a twisted Benares alley, weaving cloth and spinning his poetry.

Awakening Inner Joy

In the yoga sutra Patanjali refers to the two qualities that are part of asana: sthira, or
steadiness, and sukha, happiness or inner joy. While many hours of practice can make you
steady, sukha often requires more subtle nourishment. The visceral nature of poetry cuts
through the intellect and often goes right to the intuitive, feeling mind. If you are willing,
you can feel a quiet shift inside your body when Hafiz says:

“Awake, my dear. / Be kind to your sleeping heart. / Take it out into the vast fields of Light / And let it breathe”
(I Heard God Laughing, Sufism Reoriented, 1996).

It is as if your spiritual heart hears a call and
says, Yes, I would like to come up for air. When you experience this awakening of the
subtle body inside the muscles and bones, you begin to bring sukha into your practice and
life. I have witnessed and helped many students move beyond the pushing and grunting
stage of backbends, where just trying to straighten one’s arms in Urdhva Dhanurasana
(Upward-Facing Bow Pose) feels like a Herculean task. It’s not that I start whispering
poetry in my students’ ears. Rather, my voice and touch convey a tender, reverential
approach to the body’s soul that encourages students to release their surface effort and
feel behind the sensation for the space where yoga—communion—starts to happen.
When a student starts to move with sukha, it does feel as if “vast fields of light” start to
open inside them. In my own practice and in teaching Ujjayi Pranayama, the victorious breath, I often refer to a line of Kabir’s:

“Student tell me, what is God? / He is the breath inside the breath” (The Enlightened Heart).

This poetic reminder of the subtle divinity of the breath usually
allows my practice or teaching to go 10 notches deeper.

Burning Your Beliefs
Often my poetic teachers remind me to let go of limited ideas and tentative actions and to
dive deeper into life. The words of well-known Muslim poets Jelaluddin Rumi and Hafiz
resound across the centuries like a muezzin’s call to prayer. Rumi’s own teacher, Shams,
threw all of Rumi’s theology books into a pond. In that spirit, Rumi offers this reminder:

“You’ve been walking / the ocean’s edge, holding / up your robes to keep them dry. / You must dive naked under, / and deeper under, a thousand times deeper!” (The Illuminated Rumi, Broadway Books, 1997).

Sometimes these lines are all I need to lift up into a
Handstand or take a creative leap instead of playing it safe. Hafiz has his own iconoclastic
call to ignite the energy of being alive:

“Spill the oil lamp! / Set this dry, boring place on fire!” (I Heard God Laughing).

This is no adolescent search for continual excitement, but
rather a soulful insistence that we need to bring passion to every precious moment.
Sometimes our ideas control the free flow of our life energy. Although learning to
surrender habits and conditioning is part of the yogic path, yoga practitioners can get
entrenched in our beliefs about the correct way of doing things just as easily as anyone
else. With a poetic invitation, Rumi points out that we need to move beyond our
attachment to our judgments: “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, / there is
a field. I’ll meet you there” (The Illuminated Rumi).

Rumi also illuminates the tendency for overcontrol that can so easily creep into life and
yoga practice. He cautions that when we think we’re totally in control:

“With dignified authority, / We are charlatans… / or maybe just a goat’s-hair brush in a painter’s hand”
(The Illuminated Rumi).

Rumi is not just exposing our illusions of control and authority as a deep masquerade that always gets swept away by winds of change. He’s also pointing out that we are the rough instruments of God, and that we need to find a balance between harnessing our life energy and letting go into grace. In yoga, poetry can be a wild card that playfully goes beyond technique and methodology,
like a fresh breeze that comes from nowhere. This is poetry’s great gift: It communicates
directly with our instinctual self. We read Rumi’s words:

“I was dead, then alive. /Weeping then laughing. / The power of love came into me, / and I became fierce like a lion, / then tender like the evening star” (The Illuminated Rumi).

And we experience the state of inner communion, not just an explanation of how to get there.
In my experience, taking poetry books off the shelf and inviting them to live by your yoga
mat or bed allows you to interact with these teachers spontaneously, opening to their
wisdom as you feel the need. When a particular line of poetry strikes you, I suggest
etching it in your memory so that you can repeat it to yourself like a koan, letting its
meaning seep down into your body, mind, and soul. Try applying poetry while you are on
your mat and see what unfolding occurs. You may start to discover images that bring your
inner yoga alive. Trust what inspires you. Knowing which tone will have the greatest
therapeutic effect is part of the art of living yoga. Learn to tell when your soul needs a
dose of poetry or a dash of the more practical Patanjali.
Along with the mystics, you may also find more recent poetic sources that speak to you.
For many people returning to the embodied wisdom that hatha yoga practice nurtures,
these famous lines by the contemporary American favorite Mary Oliver have become an
anthem:

“You do not have to be good. / You do not have to walk on your knees / for a
hundred miles through the desert, repenting. / You only have to let the soft animal of your
body love what it loves” (New and Selected Poems, Beacon Press, 1993).

by Shiva Rea

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Get Hip

(Adapted from yogajournal.com)

Learn proper alignment in Pigeon Pose and enjoy a safe and sweet hip opener.

By Natasha Rizopoulos

Yoga handles stiff hips in a variety of ways, but most directly through a family of poses that are known loosely as "hip openers." Some hip openers increase the external, or outward, rotation of the femur bone in the hip socket. Others lengthen the psoas muscle, a primary hip flexor connecting the torso and legs that gets chronically shortened in our chair-bound society. Pigeon Pose is an extremely effective hip opener that addresses both areas, with the front leg working in external rotation and the back leg in position to stretch the psoas.

Pigeon is actually a variation of the advanced pose, Eka Pada Rajakapotasana (One-Legged King Pigeon Pose). The two poses share similar alignment in the hips and, more important, an imperative to be approached thoughtfully and consciously. Most practitioners recognize that One-Legged King Pigeon is an advanced backbend that requires precise alignment. Yet many of us are likely to thoughtlessly fold into the forward-bend variation of Pigeon, which can put a lot of stress on the knee and sacrum. To avoid injury, I approach Pigeon by first doing variations that will open the hips gradually and safely. Once your hips are open, you'll be able to craft a well-balanced Pigeon that benefits your hips and lower back. If you practice it consistently, you'll notice more ease in your lower half as you sit, walk, and stand.

Thread the Needle

One of the best ways to open the hips and prepare for Pigeon is through a supine modification called Eye of the Needle (sometimes called Dead Pigeon). I teach this pose to first timers and practice it myself on a regular basis. As you move through this and the next variation, and then toward the final pose, make sure that you alternate sides so that your body can unfold evenly and progressively.

To begin, come onto your back with your knees bent and your thighs parallel and hip-distance apart. Next, cross your left ankle over your right thigh, making sure that your anklebone clears your thigh. Actively flex your front foot by pulling your toes back. When you do this, the center of your foot will line up with your kneecap rather than curving into a sickle shape, which can stress the ligaments of the ankle and the knee.

Maintaining this alignment, pull your right knee in toward your chest, thread your left arm through the triangle between your legs and clasp your hands around the back of your right leg. If you can hold in front of your shin without lifting your shoulders off the floor or rounding the upper back, do so; otherwise, keep your hands clasped around your hamstring or use a strap. The goal is to avoid creating tension in the neck and shoulders as you open the hips, so choose a position that keeps your upper body relaxed. As you draw your right leg in toward you (making sure to aim it toward your right shoulder and not the center of your chest), simultaneously press your left knee away from you. This combination of actions should provide ample sensation, but if you don't feel much, try releasing your pubic bone down away from your navel toward the floor. This will bring a bit more curve into your lumbar and should deepen the hip stretch.

Boost Your Bird

This variation moves more in the direction of the final shape but uses blankets to help maintain alignment. Come onto all fours with your hands shoulder-distance apart and about a hand span in front of your shoulders. Bring your left knee forward and place it on the floor just behind and slightly to the left of your left wrist, with your shin on a diagonal and your left heel pointing toward your right frontal hipbone. Now bring your attention to your back leg: Your right quadriceps should squarely face the floor so that your leg is in a "neutral" position—you want to avoid the common pitfall of externally rotating the back leg. Establish this neutral leg by tucking your right toes under and straightening your right leg so that the thigh and knee come off the floor. Lift your right inner thigh up toward the ceiling and move your right frontal hipbone forward so that it is parallel to your left frontal hipbone. You want to have your hipbones square toward the front of the mat. As you roll your right hipbone forward, draw your left outer hip back and in toward the midline of your body. Its natural tendency will be to swing forward and out away from you.

When the hipbones are parallel in Pigeon, the sacrum is less likely to be torqued, and you can practice the pose without straining your low back. Maintaining this hip alignment, shimmy your right toes back slightly and then point them so that your right thigh releases to the floor. Move your left foot and shin toward the front of your mat, aiming for your shin to be parallel to the front edge, and flex your foot the way you did in Eye of the Needle to protect your knee.

Now observe your left outer hip. If, after you square your hips, the area where your thigh and buttock meet doesn't rest on the floor, you need to add a blanket or two underneath. This is crucial to practicing the pose safely. If the outer hip doesn't have support, the body will fall to the left, making the hips uneven and distorting the sacrum. Or, if the hips stay square but your left hip is free floating, you'll put too much weight and pressure on the front knee. Neither scenario is good!

Get Even

Instead, use your arms for support as you organize your lower body. Adjust so that your hipbones are parallel to the wall you're facing and your sacrum is even (meaning one side hasn't dipped closer to the floor than the other) and place however many blankets are necessary to maintain this alignment beneath your left outer hip.

Place your hands in front of your left shin and use your arms to keep your torso upright. For the final version, keep moving your left foot forward, working to make your left shin parallel to the front edge of your mat. Make sure that in doing so you maintain the alignment in your hips and sacrum, continuing to use blankets if necessary. The left leg will be in external rotation, the right leg in neutral—each position giving access to a different type of hip opening. The right leg will stretch the psoas and other hip flexors, and the left side will get into the group of rotators in the buttocks and outer hip.

It's common to experience intense sensations in the left hip as the femur rotates outward in the hip socket. (For many people, this is in the fleshy part of the buttock; for others, it's along the inner thigh.) Some feel a stretch along the front of the right hip as the psoas lengthens. You do not, however, want to feel any sensations in your left knee. If you do, this variation is not for you! Return to Eye of the Needle, where you can safely open your hips without strain.

If your knee is sensation free (hooray!), extend your torso forward across your left shin, walking your arms out in front of you and releasing your forehead toward the floor. Fold forward only after you've spent time checking your alignment and paying attention to your body. Your left knee will be to the left of your torso (with the left thigh on a bit of a diagonal), and your flexed left foot will be just alongside the right side of your rib cage. As you fold forward, turn your attention inward. We tend to hold this version of Pigeon longer than more active postures, so see if part of your practice in this pose can be to stay mentally focused once you have settled in. In the Yoga Sutra, Patanjali defines practice as "effort toward steadiness." In these extended, quieter holds, you get to explore this idea, tethering your sometimes scattered attention by following the breath as it moves in and out, finding stillness as you open and expand.

Pose Benefits

Increases external range of motion of femur in hip socket
Lengthens hip flexors
Prepares body for backbends
Prepares body for seated postures such as Padmasana (Lotus Pose)

Contraindications

Knee injury
Sacroiliac issues

Free Your Pelvis

(Taken from yogajournal.com)

Strengthening your side waist muscles may not eliminate your love handles, but it will unlock your pelvis and protect your lower back.

By Julie Gudmestad

Recently a student asked me how to strengthen his side waist muscles. It is a good, and perennial, question, even if his motives are suspect: What most people asking this question really want to know is how to reduce the "love handles" at their side waists. Unfortunately, research has shown that spot reducing just doesn't work. My student's question is still a good one, though, because the side waist muscles (also called the flank muscles), along with the front abdominal, lower back, and buttock muscles, are crucial in supporting and stabilizing the lower back and pelvis.

Sometimes people try to strengthen the flank muscles by weight lifting. Standing and holding dumbbells, they side-bend to the left, use the right flank muscles to lift the torso back up, and then repeat the action to the other side. I'm not very enthused about this exercise because it creates compression in the lower back. With so many people past the age of 40 showing at least the beginning stages of arthritis in the lower back, further compressing it really isn't a good idea.

However, I can enthusiastically recommend strengthening the side waist by the practicing of Trikonasana (Triangle Pose). But, you might ask, isn't Trikonasana a side stretch? Actually, when properly done, no. (At least, not with the Iyengar approach that I teach; some other yoga styles regard Triangle differently.) In fact, the line of the torso from the side waist to armpit should be flat, not rounded up toward the ceiling, and it is the contraction of the flank muscles that keeps it flat.

Engaging the Side Waist Muscles
Let's take a look at the muscles that comprise the flank. The quadratus lumborum sits deep in the back waist, attaching to the top of the pelvis and traveling up to the last rib and the sides of the lumbar vertebrae. When the quadratus lumborum contracts, it pulls the pelvis and rib cage on the same side closer together. The abdominal obliques also help this action. The external obliques originate on the lower ribs and insert on the pelvis and the abdominal connective tissue; the internal obliques originate on the pelvis and insert on the lower ribs and abdominal connective tissue. Some of the obliques' fibers are nearly vertical between the pelvis and ribs, so they perform a similar action to quadratus lumborum except on the front side of the body. (For more information on the obliques and also an illustration, see the "Anatomy" column on twists in the January/February 2003 issue of Yoga Journal.)

When you bend to one side, your flank muscles on the opposite side must lengthen. To feel this action, stand up and place your hands on your waist. If you bend to the right, you can feel with your right hand that the right waist is shortened so that your ribs and the top of your pelvis nearly touch. You can also feel that the left waist, ribs, and flank muscles are lengthening and curving, and that quite a gap has opened up between your ribs and the top of your pelvis.

As you practice Trikonasana, the two sides of your spine should lengthen nearly evenly, so there is no curve in your torso. For example, if you do Trikonasana to the right, your left ribs should stay flat and the space between your right ribs and right side of the pelvis should stay open, which helps prevent compression of the right side of your lower back.

To keep your left ribs and waist from lengthening and curving excessively when you do Trikonasana to the right, your left flank muscles must contract to pull the ribs and pelvis closer together; this is how these muscles are strengthened in Trikonasana. The quadratus lumborum and the lateral fibers of your obliques bear a large load. To understand how this works, you must consider how gravity pulls on your torso. The weight of your torso is about half of your total body weight. When you are upright, that weight is centered over the bony structures of the pelvis and legs, but as you begin to tip to the side, much more weight must be held up by your flank muscles. And all this good strengthening work is happening without compressing your lower back.

To get the maximum strengthening benefit for the flank muscles, however, you must also create the proper movement of the pelvis. If the bowl of the pelvis stays upright and you bend to the side, all of the bend must come from the spine, and one side of your back will lengthen while the other side shortens. If, on the other hand, the pelvic bowl tips to the side, the spine can actually remain relatively straight as it becomes more parallel to the floor. This tipping movement seems to be a challenge for many students when learning Trikonasana. One reason for this difficulty is that tipping the pelvis to the side is not a movement you use in your everyday activities, so that it's just not in your movement repertoire. Another limiting factor is tightness in the hamstrings, on the backs of the thighs and adductors, on the inner thighs. These muscle groups originate on or attach to the sitting bones. If they are tight and short, the ability of the pelvis to tip to the side will be limited.

If you do have tight hamstrings and adductors, you would be wise to stretch them before working on Trikonasana. An excellent way to open up the range of motion that you will be needing for Trikonasana is to practice a supported version of Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana (Extended Hand-to-Big-Toe Pose) with your leg out to the side, instead of in front of you. Stand with the right side of your body a few feet away from a chair, so that your left leg is directly under your left hip, and put your right foot up on the chair seat. A chair seat is generally about the correct height to use if you have moderately tight legs, but if you are a little more flexible, you might be able to use a higher prop. Whatever height you do use, make sure that your pelvis is level; if you put your foot up too high, your right pelvis will be higher than the left. Also make sure that your foot and your kneecap point to the ceiling. To open your right hip, stand tall and gently rotate your abdomen to the left. Take care that you don't let your right knee turn forward; keep it pointing toward the ceiling. The gentle stretch that you feel in your right hamstrings and/or inner thigh, if you practice this pose regularly, will make it easier to tip your pelvis sideways in Trikonasana.

Extending Your Triangle Pose
Now let's integrate all these awarenesses into Trikonasana. Stand with your back against a wall and position your feet near the wall with your right foot turned out and your left foot turned in. (Using the wall as a prop is not mandatory, but it is a very valuable tool for learning the correct movement of the pelvis.) Your right buttock should be lightly touching the wall, however your left buttock should not. If you force your left buttock to the wall, your ability to tip your pelvis to the side will be severely limited. So allow the left pelvis to stay forward a little during your transition into Trikonasana; this position also helps keep your right knee properly aligned, with the kneecap pointing over the center of the foot. Now place your right hand at the right hip joint, which is the crease at the top of the thigh where it joins the pelvis. Inhale, and as you exhale, apply pressure with your right hand so that your right hip and thighbone slide to the left. You will be able to feel your right buttock slide on the wall, your pelvis will tip to the right, and your hamstrings and adductors will lengthen.

As you are tipping into the pose, it's a good idea to stop, even if your hand isn't on the floor, when you begin to feel a significant stretch in your right hamstrings and adductors. If you continue to move down into the pose, the tight leg muscles will stop the movement of the pelvis and all further downward movement of your upper body will come from compressing the right ribs and waist and rounding the left side of the torso.

So stop when the right-leg stretch becomes significant, then place your hand on your shin, ankle, or a block, and focus on lengthening the right ribs away from the right thighbone. This action will open up the right side of your waist and your lower back; you may also help increase this opening if you visualize your entire spine lengthening from your tailbone to the base of your skull.

As your flank muscles start to become stronger, you can also integrate this balanced lengthening of both sides of the spine into several other sideways standing poses, like Parsvakonasana (Side Angle Pose), and also Ardha Chandrasana (Half Moon Pose).

Although the standing poses are best known for the excellent work they provide for the legs and hips, remember that they can also contribute to the strength of your torso muscles. Because strong torso muscles can help stabilize your lower back and protect it from injury, standing poses can make a critical contribution to your overall health.

A licensed physical therapist and certified Iyengar Yoga teacher, Julie Gudmestad runs a private physical therapy practice and yoga studio in Portland, Oregon. She regrets that she cannot respond to correspondence or calls requesting personal health advice.

Joy To The Moon !

Enjoy the stability of gravity's pull and the freedom of flying in Revolved Half Moon Pose.

By Tias Little (Taken from yogajournal.com)

You may be familiar with the caution "Avoid practicing yoga on the full or new moon!" This tradition of observing "moon days" stems from the belief in the Ashtanga system that practicing at either extreme of the lunar cycle leaves you vulnerable to injury. One theory is that because the body consists mainly of water, you are affected, like the ocean's tides, by the moon: On full-moon days the pull of the moon is so strong that your prana (life force) moves upward, leaving you
feeling headstrong and liable to push yourself beyond your limits; on new-moon days, the pull of the moon is so diminished that you find yourself lacking motivation. The ultimate time to practice, then, is during the middle of the lunar cycle, when the moon is a half circle and your prana is balanced. You can observe for yourself if this is true. Regardless, conceiving of the moon this way can provide helpful imagery for Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana.

Half Moon Pose
and its twin, Revolved Half Moon Pose, represent, to me, the middle ground between the emptiness and fullness of the moon. As one-legged balancing poses, they require a steady stream of prana in the legs and
feet to keep you grounded, and as deep twists, they require a steady
stream of prana through the upper body to keep the torso soaring. The
balance of energy is precisely calibrated. Learning them requires both
considerable strength and patience, but if you use the support you need
and if you keep your mind spacious, you'll find that they are
rejuvenating and restorative. They build a sense of ease and equipoise
while being energizing and dynamic. In the sequence to come, you will
enjoy a tremendous earth-bound pull while you feel the levity that
comes with free balancing. See if you notice the stimulating effects of
the Half Moon poses as well as their cooling, rejuvenating benefits.

Before You Begin

Revolved Half Moon Pose demands a lot from the hamstrings, pelvis,
sacrum, and lower back. It also requires considerable core strength.
Awaken and warm up your torso and legs before you practice the pose;
start with Sun Salutations and a series of standing poses like Trikonasana (Triangle Pose), Parsvakonasana (Side Angle Pose), Parivrtta Trikonasana (Revolved Triangle), and Parsvottanasana (Intense Side Stretch). If you are fatigued, do Supta Padangusthasana
(Reclining Hand-to-Big-Toe Pose) and Jathara Parivartanasana (Revolved
Abdomen Pose) to refresh the nerves around the pelvis, sacrum, and
lower back. Also, be sure that you are steady in Tree Pose, the first balancing pose to learn before venturing into this sequence.

Ardha Chandrasana (Half Moon Pose)

To balance gracefully in either of the Half Moon poses, it's
essential that you build a solid foundation in the feet, legs, and
hips. Doing so requires patience and resolve, but once you've got this
underpinning, you'll grip less in your diaphragm and rib cage. Your
upper body will be light, and instead of being bound by gravity, you'll
feel as though you are soaring above the earth, like a great hawk.

Enter Half Moon from Triangle Pose. Stand sideways on your mat with your feet four feet apart. Turn your right foot out so that it is parallel to the side of your mat. Angle the back foot in slightly. Inhale and reach your arms out like that huge hawk, then exhale as you extend to the right, pitching your pelvis powerfully toward your back leg. Keep your torso long as you place your right hand on your shin.

From there, place your left hand on your left hip, bend your right knee, and take a small step in with your back leg. Place your right hand directly below your right shoulder just to the outside of your front foot. Straighten your right leg as you lift your left leg off the floor to hip height. Push through the sole of your left foot, as though you were pressing it against a wall.

Now, look down at your standing foot and make sure it's still parallel to the edge of your mat. This foot typically turns out, pitching the standing leg off its axis and disturbing the equilibrium of the entire pose. To counter this tendency and to keep yourself upright, you need to find the plumb line of the pose, in this case the line running up your inner leg from your heel all the way to your inner groin.

To engage your inner leg, press the mound of your big toe down as you lift your arch. Stretch, spread, and activate the toes. The outer hip of the standing leg tends to splay out to the side in the Half Moon poses. To prevent this, draw in the center of your right buttock and pull the greater trochanter (the big bony knob of the outer hip) into your body. As you draw your right hip in, shave its outer edge back, like a carpenter planing a piece of wood. Then stay for a few breaths, noticing how it feels to have your standing leg set.

To complete the shape of the pose, stack the upper hip atop the lower hip. Without disturbing your standing leg, spin your chest up toward the ceiling as you reach your left arm up. Slowly take your gaze toward your left hand.

Spread the wings of your diaphragm and your inner chest cavity with soft, open breathing. As you stay in Half Moon for 5 to 10 breaths, go for the feeling of flying while staying in one place. If you fall in any direction, fall upward! Come out of the pose by lowering your back leg into Triangle Pose, and then switch legs.

Parivrtta Supta Padangusthasana (Revolved Reclining Hand-to-Big-Toe Pose)

In any balancing pose, the body naturally shifts and sways until it finds a still point. When these micromovements occur in the Half Moon poses, your standing leg and hip have to be responsive and resilient to prevent you from going off kilter. To make your hip joints more resilient, you can strengthen the muscles and connective tissue around them in standing poses like Virabhadrasana III (Warrior III) and stretch them in a pose such as this one.

Lie on your back and press your left foot into a wall. Reach your right leg up toward the ceiling. Catch the sole of your right foot with a strap, holding both ends of the strap in your left hand. (If you are more flexible, grab the outer edge of the right heel with your left hand.) Extend up through your right heel to stretch your Achilles tendon, calf muscle, and hamstrings. If this feels intense, you are not alone. Think of it as a hamstring puja (devotional ritual)!

From there, hook your right thumb into the outer crease of your right hip and drag it away from your waist. This provides space for your abdomen to turn. Then take your upper leg 6 to 10 inches to the left, across your body. Bring your right arm to the floor, palm facing up. Pause there and observe the stretch into the outer flank of your hip and leg. You may feel your entire outer leg quake and tremble, but develop your staying power and aim breath into the area, visualizing bright red oxygenated blood flooding into your hip. Hold for 5 to 10 breaths or longer, and then bring the leg back up toward the ceiling, let go of the strap, and switch to the other side.

After you do the pose on both sides, repeat it, this time taking your right leg across your body and down onto a block so as to keep your sacrum level. (Taking the foot all the way to the floor makes the sacrum unbalanced.) You'll need to lift and pivot your pelvis so you can align your weight onto the outer edge of your left hip. Continue holding the strap (or your heel) with your left hand.

Stay here for 1 to 2 minutes as you reach through the inner edge of both heels. Firm your legs but keep your breath free and the diaphragm and internal organs fluid as you twist. The twisting action prepares you for the twist in Revolved Half Moon, which, because you'll be standing and balancing, will be much more difficult. So, focus on softening and releasing your abdomen while the floor supports the weight of your body. Also, use your exhalation, which gives the belly its power to churn and turn, to help you twist more deeply. To exit the pose, keep the right leg fully extended and swing it back upright. From there, release the strap and repeat the pose on the other side.

Virabhadrasana III (Warrior III)

The key to Revolved Half Moon Pose is to make the hip joint of the standing leg resilient so that it can bear the weight that's placed on it. If you haven't built enough strength in that hip, your leg will ignite with tension, leading to a meltdown. In this variation of Warrior III, you'll use blocks to support your upper body and a wall to take some of the weight off your lifted leg, helping you to strengthen and stabilize your legs, hips, and sacrum.

Start in Tadasana (Mountain Pose) with your back to a wall about a leg's distance away from it. Have two blocks handy. Fold forward into Uttanasana (Standing Forward Bend), lift your left leg, and press your left foot against the wall at hip height so that it's parallel to the floor. Inhale as you lift your spine away from the floor and place one block under each hand. See that your hands are beneath your shoulders.

Just as you did in Half Moon, build your pose from the ground up. Spring the arch of your foot upward. Then press the outer edge of your standing leg inward toward your inner leg. Next, imagine zipping up a long zipper from your inner ankle to your inner groin to help you lengthen the inner shaft of your leg. Lastly, shave the outer edge of your right hip back toward the wall behind you. Stay here for a few breaths, making sure that the whole leg works evenly; no part of it should feel slack.

Bring your attention to your upper body. Slide the front of your spine, from just below your navel, toward your heart. Do this without hardening your belly or sucking it back and up. Simultaneously, elongate the two sides of your tailbone away from your lumbar, toward the wall behind you. These two actions create Mula Bandha (Root Lock), which awakens the deep life force in the body. (To learn more about Mula Bandha, see Bound for Glory.)

Stay here for 5 to 10 breaths, then step your left foot forward to meet the right and rest in Standing Forward Bend. When you're ready, take the right leg to the wall and do the other side.

Parivrtta Parsvakonasana (Revolved Side Angle Pose)

Revolved Side Angle is an excellent preparation for the final pose, as it requires you to twist, but instead of balancing on one leg, you get to balance on two.

Stand sideways on a mat with your feet four feet apart. Pivot to the right so that your hips are square toward your right leg. Remember, in any spinal twist it is essential to lengthen before you revolve, or you risk compressing your spine. To create space in your torso, reach your left arm up as if you could touch the sky, and lengthen between your hip points and your left armpit. Pause here, taking several long breaths, then lift your back heel off the floor. Deeply bend your right knee, hook your left elbow to the outside of it, and press your hands together in Anjali Mudra (Salutation Seal). Either stay here or take your left hand to the floor as you press your left arm to the outside of your knee. From there, take your right arm straight up, then reach it over your right ear, with your palm facing the floor.

If your right hip pops out to the side—which often happens if you have tightness there—keep your back heel lifted and drop your right sitting bone down. Also, extend the inner seam of your back leg strongly. If it collapses, it can jam your lower back.

Breathe deeply and lengthen your spine as you inhale. Twist as you exhale. Wrap the left side of your navel toward the inner right thigh. Avoid tightening your belly or locking your jaw. Stay for 5 to 10 breaths, then place your back heel down and pull out of the pose with your right arm before moving to the other side.

Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana (Revolved Half Moon Pose)

Come back to Half Moon Pose, balancing on your right leg and hand. Then square your pelvis so that both frontal hip points are facing the floor, and simultaneously lower your left hand to the floor. When you move into the pose, keep the toes of the back foot pointing directly down toward the floor and extend out through the center of your back heel. If your left hip sinks toward the floor, lift that hip point and imagine you are balancing a cup of green tea on your sacrum.

Rest your right hand on your right hip and begin to align your standing leg as you did in the earlier poses: Spread your toes, press the mound and heel of your big toe down, and lift your arch. Pull the muscles of the outer leg in against the bone. Extend the shaft of your inner standing leg. At the same time, cut the outer right hip back toward the wall behind you.

Elongate your spine from the tip of your tailbone to the crown of your head. Then twist around the axis of your spine, allowing it to spiral up like a corkscrew through the whole spine and out the crown of your head. Eventually, you will twist enough that your upper body will be completely open the way it is in Half Moon—it's just flipped to the other side. If you're there, extend your right arm toward the sky. Otherwise, be patient, have faith, and keep turning your spine until you achieve length and breadth in the lungs, collarbones, and breastbone.

Stay here 5 to 10 breaths, aiming your inhalation into your abdominal cavity and into your kidneys. Relax your diaphragm and feel lightness and space around all your organs. Then bend your right arm, bring your right hand back to your hip, and slowly bend your right knee. Avoid collapsing into a heap! Be sure you have enough gusto to exit. To come out, reach your back leg down to the floor and retrace the pathway you took to enter the pose.

Once you've completed this series, do a long Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward-Facing Dog Pose) and Standing Forward Bend. These poses restore the nerves around the neck and brain and bring a feeling of integration and congruency to the entire nervous system. Finish with a seated meditation or Savasana (Corpse Pose).

Tias Little's teaching is informed by his extensive study of Iyengar and Ashtanga Yoga, combined with a master's degree in Eastern philosophy and in-depth study of anatomy and bodywork. His wife, Surya (pictured in this story), teaches yoga and directs the YogaSource studio in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Tias and Surya share the parenting of their two-year-old son, Eno. For Tias's teaching schedule, visit www.tiaslittle.com.