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Turtle in Mysore
by Vivian Salim
The decision to go to Mysore came
about because my teacher was going. When Stanley cancelled
because of teaching and other commitments, the urge
to go remained. I wanted to see Guruji as he had been
quite sick but had recently recovered.
Naturally, I felt some trepidation. Mostly, it was
fear of the unknown – what would the practice
be like in Mysore and will I injure myself through
overzealous practice? There was also the fear of feeling
uncomfortable, as I had never been to India. Still,
our comfort zones can become our prisons. I corresponded
with other teachers and a fellow student in Mysore
and got help and information. I sent in the form,
got my visa, bought my ticket. Stanley said to me
that I should go without any expectations, as Mysore
is a different place for everyone. Still, I had a
goal – I thought it would be fantastic to finish
the primary series while practicing at the feet of
Sri K Pattabhi Jois and Sharath Rangaswamy.
I woke up on my first morning to
softer but unfamiliar sounds, more unpredictable than
the clockwork buzz and hum of the city. During a nap
one afternoon, the crazed mooing of an irate cow was
my alarm clock. I stayed with a nice family above
a shop selling office furniture. I had the third floor,
effectively a room built on the rooftop, all to myself.
The attached bathroom had running hot water but I
had to use a pail and bucket as the shower pressure
was dismal. But it was cosy and I slept well for the
six weeks that I stayed in Mysore. I was blessed as
my landlady cooks lunches for yoga students and is
a brilliant cook!
From the house, it’s a short, 8-10 minute walk
to the main shala. Registration starts at 4pm daily.
I sat on the bench in the waiting room, and when I
met Sharath, the first thing I notice was the bright
light reflecting in his pupils. There was one other
student before me and soon enough, Sharath called
me into the small office inside the shala. A shock
ran through me when I saw Guruji sitting at his desk
reading his papers. I did a little bow and namaste
without even thinking about it. My head was thrumming
and I was struck dumb by awe. I did talk to Sharath
a little bit about where I came from etc. Finally,
when I had registered, I said to Guruji, “I’m
very happy to meet you, you look very well.”
The Guru gave me a beautiful wide grin, and I saw
that same bright spirit in his eyes.
It’s a big shala, with around
a hundred students practicing. Students range from
beginners who are learning from scratch all the way
to the senior teachers, David Swenson and Lino Miele
amongst others. In hindsight, I found it humbling
to think that everyone is a student of Guruji, but
he states that he is a student of yoga. The place
is silent except for the suck and swish of the combined
ujjayi breath and Saraswati or Sharath shouting out
“One More!” I sat in silence in the waiting
room with the other students - always a little nervous,
as if I were about to go on a date with a really gorgeous
man or just about to enter an examination hall.
The group energy of this crowd arises from a sort
of disciplined mob mentality. It’s an example
of human interconnectedness. The energy of this room
filled with over a hundred dedicated students all
focusing on the most part on one thing, the silent
flow of yoga, is immense.
I got stopped at Supta Kurmasana, but at the time,
I had already reached Urdhva Mukha Paschimattanasana.
I respected Sharath’s instructions. In my first
week of lessons, I had a cough and had difficulty
focusing, to the point that it was only after practice
that I realized I had gotten the sequence wrong or
missed out on poses. The daily early morning starts
were difficult. I would lie in bed with thoughts like,
“I can’t get up... I want to sleep.”
I guess it was appropriate that I got stopped in a
pose called the Supine Turtle! In the second week,
the cough that I’ve had for a month, the one
I brought with me from Australia, stopped without
any medication.
“Kurmasana expands the chest, increasing the
capacity of the lungs and bronchi, and the amount
of oxygenated blood to the heart. This asana is beneficial
to anyone suffering from heart disease, angina pectoris,
asthma and bronchitis.”
[Ashtanga Yoga by Lino Miele]
When I came across this quote, I felt strangely gratified
that I got stopped in Supta.
By the end of the month, I had given up on the idea
that I would finish the Primary series in Mysore.
I just wanted to progress out of Supta. I talked to
fellow students and figured that I had to work on
my hip rotators and downward shoulder releases. One
night, I even found myself waking up for no reason
and stretching to get into Kurmasana. In the shala,
I was thinking about Supta Kurmasana even during Sun
Salutations. During one practice, I managed to bind
in Baddha Padmasana and Sharath even managed to bind
me for a brief microsecond in Supta Kurmasana before
my hands flew apart. By the last week, I had given
up on my goal of going past Supta Kurmasana. On my
third last practice, I was standing in the waiting
room looking in, there were fewer people, since Sharath
was going on leave, his wife was due to give birth
to their second child. Guruji came to the doorway
to the hall. We smiled at each other and he asked
me, “You finish?” I told him I was just
about to start. He motioned me into the hall and I
just practiced. Sharath came and bound me in Supta
Kurmasana. Hands and feet! He has an infectious strength,
and when he lifted me up from my feet, I went smoothly
into Thittibasana, Bakasana and jumped back into Chaturanga.
I looked up at Sharath and he said, “Garbha
Pindasana”. The next pose in the series.
Glimpses and impressions: the condensation
on the windows from the heat of the bodies in the
room, the smell of the woven cotton rugs that cover
the floor, the grace of the yogini, the strangeness
of the insect pose, a spider tattoo, the picture of
a young Guruji in tadasana, in Janu Sirsasana A, the
felt presence of an old friend.
At times during practice, I was inadequate or fearful,
weighed down. At others, egotistical and aggressive,
like a freight train with destination Supta Kurmasana.
The lyrics of a song by Jim White comes to mind, “I
spent a life of lonely drifting trying to rise about
the buzzards in my mind...” At other times,
thoughts that were helpful came to me, “Nothing
but Yoga”, “Nothing but love”, “My
practice is my practice”. I felt then totally
at peace during practice and a feeling that was like
love. I had a book by Thich Nhat Hanh and copied a
quote from it into my practice diary,
“When we are practicing sitting meditation,
and we see a bowl of tomato soup in our mind’s
eye, we think that is wrong practice, because we are
supposed to be mindful of our breathing. But if we
practice mindfulness, we will say, “I am breathing
in and I am thinking about tomato soup.” That
is right mindfulness already. Rightness and wrongness
is not objective. It is subjective.”
(The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching, p. 56)
Pleasant remembrances or nightmares, glee and triumph,
jealousy and fear – all these are subjective.
Thich Nhat Hanh says to me, “Keep still and
just be alive, just breathe and keep mindful in the
moment even while you are moving in asana.”
We don’t really have control over what happens.
We can only hold strong to our intentions and surrender
all else.
The yoga I did in Mysore was nothing short of amazing.
Now, five months later, I’m only just starting
to get back to that level of practice in a consistent
way. The struggle of binding, trying to fit my body
into an asana, the fear of some poses, the peace,
beauty and comfort of others, it all adds up to the
practice of yoga. There is dukkha or suffering that
arises from desire. There is sukkha from a firm and
comfortable posture. Like love, yoga is unfathomable
and practice is its own reward.
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