I have no instinct when it comes to yoga. I can’t imitate a pose – an asana - by watching someone else do it. I cannot quickly move from one asana to another as so many athletic yoga teachers and students prefer. I came to Inyengar yoga through a class in restorative yoga which miraculously and somewhat successfully taught me how to relax – or at least made me aware of how very difficult it was for me to relax. What made me a fan was the enormous amount of time that the teachers spend instructing us on the placement of every bone and muscle of each asana. It took me a year to learn to stand on my head against the wall, but they showed me each step on the way and were happy if you did that step well in its own right. Doing asanas showed me a more integrated body than I thought I had, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that reading Iyengar’s take on yoga philosophy deepened my understanding of that integrity. When Jim and I spent 5 months traveling with one carry-on bag each, I packed only one book - Inyegar’s Light on Life, which is on my short list of meaningful scripture. Some of its images guide me a decade later. I find his classic Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali more challenging. However, it begins with a great story about Patanjali, the legendary author of the ancient sutras considered the ‘bible’ of yoga. During this past week, the story has been living in my imagination.
The story starts with Shesha. Remember Shesha? (previous blog: Lounging on Shesha the Cosmic Snake) “It is said” that Vishnu was watching another God – Shiva who was dancing the cosmic dance of all coming into and out of being. As Vishnu became absorbed in the rhythmic movements, his body began to vibrate making him heavier and heavier. Shesha, lazily floating under Vishnu, became so uncomfortable supporting this ever-greater weight that it could barely breathe. When Shiva stopped dancing, Vishnu became lighter. ‘What just happened?! Exclaimed Shesha. Vishnu explained how the majestic beauty of Shiva’s dance had caused his heaviness. Amazed, Shesha said he wanted to praise Shiva’s power by learning to dance like that. Vishnu predicted that Shiva would help the snake devote one life to dance and writing commentary.
Shesha began to meditate on how this would come to be. First the snake wondered how it would be born on earth and soon had a vision of Gonika, a yogini who desired a child to pass on her knowledge. Shesha started to watch Gonika, and soon saw her pray to the Sun for that child. She bent down to scoop a handful of flowing river water as an offering and noticed a tiny snake swimming in her hands. The snake took human form before her eyes and bowed to her. She accepted this child as hers and named him Patanjali. She taught him all she knew, which allowed him to become the great yogic dancer and writer of sacred texts.
During mediation, I have been both the little snake swimming in a river looking for a mother-teacher and one of many mother-teachers. With eyes wide open offering prayers to the cosmic dance and to the unrelenting sun, I am starting to notice teachers around and inside of me. Maybe I too can learn new dances and writing practices.
How have you found your teachers? What helps you notice them? Are some of those teachers already living within your unconscious? How do you learn to invite them into your awareness?