Yoga is meant to produce effects. Sometimes those effects are abrupt and overt, like crumpling a piece of paper. And sometimes they are so slow and subtle -- like the process of changing carbon into diamond -- that you're not sure if anything is actually happening. Only after all the right conditions have been met and the new material is exposed do we realize that something really important was taking place whether we knew it or not. However, if the conditions aren't just right, we either get poor effects or no effects at all.
One of the fundamental premises of yoga is the necessity of understanding that we are both a body as well as something more than just a body. Call that something else what you will -- soul, spirit, individuality, essence, Witness, Self, etc. The name isn't important; the point is that yoga aims at bringing awareness and energy to both of those parts of us as equally as possible. We practice for physical as well as metaphysical well-being. In order to do that well, we need to cultivate the kind of practice that most closely meets our particular needs. It needs the right conditions. It needs to be the right amount of supportive so as to be accessible and comfortable and inviting. It also needs to be the right amount of challenging so that we are constantly pressing up against and altering the edges of our comfort zones. That can be a very fine and intricate line to walk.
If our practice is merely supportive (without being challenging), we're likely to simply stay exactly where we are with all that we already have -- always carbon, never a diamond. While that isn't necessarily a bad thing, I think it's fair to say that very, very many of us could benefit from some positive provocation. On the other hand, challenge without support is destructively demanding. It lacks repose and repletion.
If your practice is producing the wrong effects or no effects in regards to your physical nature, your body will tell you. The message may not always be loud and clear (it may come across subtly like the changing carbon rather than the crumpling paper), but you will (sooner or later) notice that you have failed to produce the kind of strength or flexibility or coordination which you had intended (too much supportiveness, not enough challenge), or, worse, you realize that you have created some kind of injury or ailment (too much challenge, not enough supportiveness).
But remember that we are something more than just our body. That 'something more' needs its own kind of strength and flexibility. While our outer-self is toning muscles and loosening joints, our inner-self is developing resilience and patience, courage and humility, trust and compassion, etc. We each have certain of those characteristics naturally and in various degrees, and our practice is meant to both highlight what we already have and cultivate what we lack. But it can't do that without the right conditions.
If your practice is producing the wrong effects or no effects in regards to your metaphysical nature, would you know?? A too-supportive practice can equally coddle our material as well as our immaterial parts into inertia. Maybe you hoped your practice would encourage patience, but are you actively challenging yourself to suppress agitation when it confronts you? Or if you're seeking courage, are you boldly facing experiences which intimidate you? If not, you may be expecting effects which will never come because you are not producing opportunities for new states of existence. You are so far away from your edge that you can't even see your own boundaries, let alone have new experiences. Also, as we know, a too-challenging practice risks your safety because improperly assessing your strength or flexibility leads to injury -- you suffer outside and in. Rather than being curious and confident, you are impulsive and cocky. Instead of contentment, you feel doubt and disappointment. Instead of easing up to the edge in order to investigate and prepare for the next adventure, you dive headfirst into the unknown before it's been adequately illuminated.
Your practice needs to leave your body feeling energized without agitation, relaxed without depletion, strongly grounded, wide open, and well protected. And it needs to leave your 'something more' feeling all those things too.
Our DK practice sequence is changing soon. We are going to be incorporating some asana which may be less familiar to you than the basic standing poses which have been the primary focus thus far. You may or may not be ready (physically or otherwise) for them. If you are not, does that mean you cannot attend class anymore? No. It means you have to be willing to adjust your practice to meet your most current needs and capabilities rather than expecting a performance which your body cannot access. That may be a vague response, but that's because appropriate adjustments are entirely subjective to the practitioner, and learning what that is for you during any given practice is part of yoga's lesson. Remember we are seeking an ongoing and consistent practice which incorporates the right amounts of supportive and challenging. We are also seeking a practice which grants us awareness when we're lacking those things. You are a body, and you are more than just a body. And skillful yoga produces positive effects upon both.
This is one of my favorite Hafiz poems, and remembering it today inspired this post. I'll leave it to you to ponder why.
First
The fish needs to say,
"Something ain't right about this
Camel ride--
And I'm
Feeling so damn
Thirsty."
~~~~~
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