yoga as practice, yoga as technology

I just got back from yoga, and am enjoying that stage where I can feel every muscle that worked, which provides me with an odd sort of loose-limbed grace. Combine that with one of two mental states that usually occurs thereafter--either so fully open and relaxed that I'm taking in everything all at once and feeling no need to process it, or so completely focused and energized that I often go back to work and bang out half of the day's tasks in an hour or two--and it makes for a very fluid drive home. I'm experiencing the former state today, though this time I was able to free myself from the urge that often accompanies it--that of not wanting to break that state and focus on anything. But at the moment, I have a keyboard at hand, and everything's fine. This focus is an easy one for me--though of course, I'm not entirely sure if it's an appropriate state for clear writing. We'll see, I suppose.

This semester I decided to change to taking this class twice a week, and I'm glad I did.

Tonight, after finishing savasana and wrapping class with a "namaste" given and returned, I did an impromptu sarvangasana--a shoulderstand. Since I was already warmed up, I didn't even hesitate: I pretty much rolled back and went straight up, no prop, no nothing. After my teacher realized what I was doing, she called out a couple of tips, to which I adjusted immediately.

I feel the need to mention here that when I first started, I hated inverted poses like this. The first class where we were to try them, I asked the forthright question of "do we have to do these?" Not being impertinent at all: it was an honest question of if they're integral to a yoga practice. I wanted a good reason before I subjected myself to them. I was afraid of tipping over and hurting myself--and not unreasonably so, I might add. But now I love these poses. They change your viewpoint, and not just at the time.

I've also been remembering the changed viewpoint of when I practiced on the roof of a building in Indianapolis at sunset. Very dramatic, very memorable. Loved it. On that trip as well as others, I had brought along my Yoga Paws--mitts and sock bits that simulate a yoga mat without having one with you--intending to practice wherever I went: rest stops and hotel rooms and parks and mountains and streams. I only remember actually practicing at one rest stop, and both that and the rooftop bit were done without the Yoga Paws. So while helpful, they're probably unnecessary. I'd rather do the yoga than take the time to hunt down the accessory, because if the hunt takes too long, I might not do yoga at all. At that time.

But as some teachers and publications might tell you, while you might be "doing" yoga during a class or a session, it does become a way of life. Your practice extends to the rest of your time, to one extent or another. Just on the way home, I found myself adjusting my shoulders and arms to drive optimally without constricting muscles that I tend to coil too much. I've found myself unconsciously doing yoga adjustments while drying my hair, doing the Down-Dog tilt with my head upside down. After a long trip, Dad and others have seen me go into Tree Pose, Cobbler's Pose, Mountain Pose.

I sat down and made a list of all the poses I knew off the top of my head one day. It was impressively long, and rather amusing to read. Just some of the animalistically-named poses are fun: Fish, Camel, Cat/Cow, Sphinx, Cobra, Pigeon. I love Pigeon. Some people hate Pigeon. But to be fair, there's a lot of poses I find challenging that others don't, and vice versa. But I digress.

For the last six days, my voice has come in and out. No reason that I can discern. Grand-boss says I sound like Lauren Bacall. We tried to figure out a modern equivalent that prospective students might understand and came up short. But my point is that I asked Christine for any tips she might have for such. She gave a few and told me to try one. I did, and instantly felt things clear. While it's not magic, as Arthur C. Clarke said: "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Working with the loosest definition of the term, yoga (and jin shin-jitsu, which is also a bit of what she showed me) is then technology.

From a simple expression about returning home from class to yoga as technology in less than 800 words, even allowing for meandering. Welcome to my brain.