Nothing like a little Milton before dinner.

Lives there who loves his pain!

Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell,
Though thither doomed! Thou wouldst thyself, no doubt/And boldly venture to whatever place/Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change/Torment with ease…

John Milton, Paradise Lost

Hi bloggy ones! Tis I, your neglectful blogmistress, fresh from another batch of Chris Chavez Immersion 1 goodness [another 3 days to go...holy moly]. Note: I won’t be Big Fridaying it up this week, since I’ll still be up at Highgate rocking out with the YYCCTT [ZOMG!].

We’ve had a fantastic couple of days so far and everybody is working so hard they are sweating out of their temples sideways. I don’t think that anybody thought that Virabhadrasana II would be such exertion! I’ve had a great time assisting and I hope like heck I’ve been helpful at least here and there, although Chris is all over everything like white on rice.

One of the cool things about this Immersion that doesn’t actually seem that cool [bear with me] is that there are a bunch of people dealing with injuries of varying duration/intensity/calibre…from some weapons-grade shoulder injuries to lowback stuff and so on and so on. Now, it’s almost impossible to dodge all the injury bullets that are out there when you’re doing any sort of practice of the body. If you’re honestly out there at the limit of your ability and you’re striving to do your best, sometimes things just go sideways. Or, maybe like me you were studying a form of movement or technique that didn’t really serve you and so things started to go a bit out of whack. Whatever the case, it’s rare to get to a stage where you’re interested in shelling out for 5 6-hour days of yoga training and not have some sort of injury in your past or present.

“So in what way could this possibly be considered cool?” one is then forced to ask. “Seriously, this sounds like the same old bushwa I always used to get about how an injury was ‘moving through stuff’ and I should just ‘take it easy’ and blah blah blah: I want to move FORWARD!” I hear you buddy, I hear you. Here’s why it’s cool: We get to come face to face with the intention of our practice, and even more specifically whether we think we deserve to be pain-free or not.

It is possible to believe a technique of body is 100% true, to have studied it all your life, to be extensively knowledgeable in that technique…and still have it bring you great pain. So many times I’ve been in a mental debate with myself where what I “should do” or what I’ve been told to do is in direct opposition to what actually feels good i.e. is pain-free. Or, you’ll get put “in alignment” and it feels so peculiar/makes you look weird/makes you look too sexy [as I've heard about large-breasted women needing to keep the heads of their armbones back] that you actually would rather be in pain than look weird/sexy/feel peculiar. Is “weird” the same thing as “in pain”? Would anybody who’s been in pain need to ask that question, really?

This is probably TMI but I fought so many of the techniques and philosophies of Anusara Yoga when I began my studies. I fancied myself quite the hard-ass. It’s totally like that Sheryl Crow song: “If it makes you happy, why the hell are you so sad”? By which I mean, I was so convinced that I was right and they were wrong that I ignored my own pain, of body, mind and heart. I prioritized being right over feeling well. That was the intention with which I practiced, and it showed.

So in this immersion we’re getting the benefit of Chris’ expertise and are pretty much just skimming the ocean of what’s available therapeutically in the Anusara community [like Martin Kirk]. So many people who are working through their own pain and suffering are getting little “assignments”, alignment concepts to work on to ease their pain. It’s hard work for sure, but I don’t think that’s the problem: people are into working hard, viz. Vira II above. It’s that the story of being in pain has eclipsed the other stories: the stories about being free, about life being easy. Just ask a yogi what their injury is and they will freaking UNLOAD an avalanche of anatomical detail on you. They become like House MD guest stars, because pain [let's face it] can be fascinating and giving something a name is very powerful. But it stops there. The rhythm of the anatomical terms are so intoxicating, the name of the problem so compelling, that the idea of actually moving past it is long gone.

Sometimes what brings us ease is initially unintuitive, particularly if you’ve been practicing something else for years and years, so in come the Greek chorus of voices supporting the story: “But that’s not enough engagement of the core”. “You don’t really MEAN that, do you? You don’t really want me to walk around like this, not in pain?” “THAT much? That’s too much. That feels weird”. My offering tonight is: Who lives there who loves his/her pain? Why do you practice, and can you make your joy and your ease the top priority, maybe even enough to try something new, maybe even to work way harder than you ever have before? Let’s all look weird, and be happy, together; maybe then it’ll look less weird.

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