Anatomy for Yoga; click to view Uttanasana Spread

McGraw-Hill Publishing was kind enough to send me their latest yoga book to review. Anatomy for Yoga: An Illustrated Guide to Your Muscles in Action, by Nicky Jenkins and Leigh Brandon, is a helpful guide to a personalized yoga practice. The authors provide an overview of yoga anatomy, including terminology, main systems, and breathing. They also review meditation and the chakra (or “subtle”) system, and how it might affect your physical systems.

From there, they identify four major postural types: kyphosis (round shoulders), lordosis (overarched lower back), flat back, and swayback (hips forward). Each type has a few possible causes; you might have a head-forward posture because of your computer setup, the sports you play, or the emotions trapped in the chest.

You’re supposed to identify your own postural type, which is the hardest part of the book. If I knew my bad habits, I’d correct them already, right? They do advise a teacher’s help, and indeed when my teacher started calling me “Ribby” I finally figured it out. (Lordosis.)

There are then ten or twelve poses prescribed for each type, plus a chakra focus and a few positive affirmations. It’s a Hatha pace; you’re supposed to stay from one to four minutes in each pose. Each sequence ends with a breathing exercise and a meditation. The lordosis sequence included two poses that really push my buttons: Crescent Lunge (holding the back foot) and Forearm Plank. The swayback section, another contender, had a lot of hamstring stretches, which I definitely do not need, so my diagnosis seemed on track. I went through the prescribed sequence on a couple consecutive mornings, and it was both challenging and relaxing. The “grounding” meditation at the end was a topic I’ve been thinking about for weeks, so again it was right on track.

The customized nature of the sequencing really inspired me to practice; it was as if a live teacher had given me a lesson. It didn’t quite feel like a full practice (Forward Bend was the only inversion), so I’d weave in a few personal poses to make it completely satisfying.

The detailed illustrations, by Juliet Percival, are another feature of the book. All the muscles that are active or stretched in the pose are listed, and illustrated on the figure. This style of drawing, similar to the illustrations by Sharon Ellis in Yoga Anatomy or Frédéric Delavier in Strength Training Anatomy-3rd Edition (Sports Anatomy), is much more informative than a simple outline of the pose. Visualizing the muscles helps to activate them. And when your yoga teacher says “go deeper,” you’ll have a sub-surface layer to work with.

My main criticism of the book is its title — “Anatomy for Yoga” implies more breadth than this book manages. There’s a nice introduction to both scientific and subtle systems of anatomy, but it is not a very comprehensive book of asanas. There are about 44 poses, including variations, but many are physical therapy exercises like “Leg Drops,” not classic yoga poses. The book’s main focus is the causes and treatment of postural problems. I can’t help but think the title was chosen for search engine optimization, or competitive marketing. A more accurate title might have been Therapeutic Yoga Sequences: An Illustrated Guidebook. Or even Yoga for Bad Posture.

I was also somewhat perturbed by the cover design. It’s a mirror image of the best-selling Yoga Anatomy book by Leslie Kaminoff and Amy Matthews. Given that Anatomy for Yoga also mirrored their predecessor’s title, it makes the book seem like a cheap knockoff.

I took Leslie’s advanced studies course, so I’m quite familiar with the illustrations he uses for breathing and the spine. I was pleased to see Anatomy for Yoga demonstrating a like-minded, modern understanding of breathing mechanics. But I was surprised to see that Yoga Anatomy was not included in the list of references; it’s been Amazon’s best-selling yoga book since 2008.

Noting these similarities, I did a side-by-side comparison of the two books, to see how the details compared.

	Yoga Anatomy	Anatomy for Yoga
Cover Design
Background Info	Philosophical concepts; Breathing anatomy; Breathing mechanics; Diaphragm details; Spinal anatomy; Spinal evolution; Spinal movement; Bases of support	Anatomical terminology; Joint movements; Posture categories; Postural problems; Postural benefits of yoga; Spinal anatomy; Breathing mechanics; Meditation benefits; Chakra balancing; Sun salutations
Main Content	Encyclopedic review of major yoga poses, with rich background on breathing and spinal anatomy	Therapeutic sequences for common postural problems, with notes on their physical, emotional, or subtle causes.
Poses Covered	About 75, counting variations.	About 44, counting variations, but many are not classic yoga poses. 4 breathing practices 4 meditation practices
Pose Info	English and Sanskrit name; Context for name; Classification; Level of difficulty; Key structures; Key joint and limb actions; Muscles working; Muscles lengthening; Breathing suggestions; Obstacles; Cautions; Variations; Special notes	English and Sanskrit name; Benefits of pose; Instructions for pose; Key joints; Joint movements; Muscles active; Muscles stretched; Modifications / variations
Pose Illustrations	Main view; Alternate view; Related details	Main view; Alternate view (outline only)

A couple other details: both books nicely illustrate the muscles used in the pose, but neither one color codes the lengthening/stretching muscles differently than the contracting/active muscles. Both books like long lists of muscles; YA presents them in list format, AfY in a more readable chart. (Though, as a student and sometimes teacher, I’d much prefer to have them phrased as directive statements: e.g. “Engage the biceps” instead of “Muscles active: Biceps Brachii.”)

So while both books start with breathing and the spine, and make good use of illustrations, they differ in purpose and execution. Yoga Anatomy will give you more pictures of more poses, and a deeper understanding of breathing mechanics and integration. It’s like an encyclopedia. Anatomy for Yoga will give you an emotional, subtle, and anatomical overview of bad posture, and guidelines for therapeutic practice. It’s like a (mis-named) manual. I have to say it: you can’t judge a book by its cover.

If you’ve read either book, I’d love to hear your comments.

Last night I went to Flavorpill‘s monthly decompression, Get Your Dance On. It’s kind of my ideal situation: great DJs, friendly people, lots of gorgeous space, and healthy snacky treats. All before 11pm. They serve free kombucha, wine and chocolate all night, plus coconut water and granola bars. (Well, I guess it’s not free — it’s $20, but that gets you a week at Yogaworks, too.) Totally hippie but WAY fewer men with ponytails than the old Body Temple parties. Maybe zero. And like 90% of the crowd is dancing.

Kombucha (fermented tea originating in Russia or maybe China) is my vote for best party drink. A little caffeine, a little alcohol, a little sugar = recipe for success. Plus, it’s too fizzy and sour to drink too much. It’s like Red Bull, except not metallic or chemical. The (locally brewed) ginger flavor was perfect.

The highlight of the night, however, was the sauna. I skipped it last time, but the well-traveled friend I was with this time was RARING to spend a Friday night in the traditional Swedish way: in the Bad House. (Technically, we should have brought in some fruit and beer, and played chess after, but we settled for coconut water and chatter.) The sauna is small, with room for ten people max, but we met some fellow dancers and soon relaxed. Twenty minutes in, a cold shower, ten minutes more, another cold shower, and I was limp. It was honestly the perfect way to end an evening. Can my future dream-house architect take note?

On our way out, we stopped in the downstairs studio. The musicians were packing up their drums, and a few stragglers still sat still. I was so relaxed from the sauna that I could really feel the tightness of a few over-danced muscles, so I asked for ten minutes to stretch. As my friends chatted, I went through a bit of yoga. (And since we were in an actual yoga studio, you could do this post-party without being a circus attraction!)

Post-sauna yoga was a revelation. Obviously I had to be careful to not overstretch my already loose joints, but I have never felt such relaxation in the poses. One definition of asana practice is “sthiram sukham” — the postures should be “hard AND soft” — and I’ve always struggled with the soft part. I’m athletic, I love the feeling of burning muscles and complete can-I-really-do-this focus. But the softness of my back in a low lunge made me realize that I’m usually working with suspension cables stretched tighter than the Brooklyn Bridge. I expect the yoga poses to stretch and therefore relax me; it turns out I could use a little help. I’m a little tightly wound.

Physically relaxed, it was SO much easier to hold still in the poses — the fidgety tension was all sweated out. I felt like I was falling from one pose into another. It was so easy to decide what pose to do next; I could really feel the tightness that needed attention. Tension was abnormal, instead of normal. I noticed all sorts of subtle details and feelings that are normally subsumed in my stiff-as-a-board back. I felt like I was made of water, instead of wood.

So the takeaway here is: Get a massage. Go to the sauna. Whatever your muscles need. It’s a necessity, not a luxury. Tension is like being deaf to yourself. Muscles that are short and tight can only do and say so much.

- – - – - – -

For posterity: Post-Party Yoga (10 minutes)

Low Lunge — Ashwa Sanchalanasana
Revolved Lunge — Parvritta Ashwa Sanchalanasana
Pyramid — Parsvottanasana
Wide-Legged Forward Bend — Prasarita Padottanasana
Gate — Parighasana
Forward Bend (with shoulder stretch) — Uttanasana with hands clasped behind back
Runner’s Stretch — Janu Sirsasana
Revolved Runner’s Stretch — Parvritta Janu Sirsasana
Seated Spinal Twist — Ardha Matsyendrasana
Standing Half Frog — Urdhva Ardha Bhekasana? quad stretch, just holding one foot
Standing Back Bend — Anuvittasana
Standing Neck Stretch — Hasta Jalandhara, I guess

Yum. Ask Google for the images if you’re curious.

Alan Finger

Yesterday morning I headed up to Union Square. Slushy weather and train delays didn’t help the trip, and I began my meditation practice a bit early as I tried to let the irritable thoughts float up and away.

9:35 was still a fine time to arrive, it turns out. I settled onto a bolster and blanket in the middle of the large, elegant room. Plain white walls and smooth dark floors led up to a colorfully preserved door frame, in front of which sat a beaming Alan Finger.

One of NYC / LA’s most well-known teachers, Alan is the co-founder of ISHTA here in New York. (ISHTA stands for Integrated Science of Hatha, Tantra, and Ayurveda.) He studied with Paramahansa Yogananda (author of the pivotal Autobiography of a Yogi), Swami Nishraisananda (a scientist turned yogi), Swami Venkatesananda (a student of Sivananda), and Shuddhanand Bharati (a Tantric master). He also founded/co-founded YogaZone, Be Yoga, and YogaWorks. I’d seen Alan on the screen, in the yoga documentary Enlighten Up! He’s just as funny and enjoyable in person.

Alan started off with a self-described “sales pitch” on the benefits of yoga, specifically the ISHTA sequence for meditation he was going to teach us. Yes, alternate nostril breathing seems simple and boring, but it really works! Yes, you have to practice every day. But if you do, this sequence will take you to transcendence in just about… 11 or 12 years. (You can practice every morning from 4–7am, like Alan did, if you want to shave a few years off.)

So. The ISHTA meditation sequence. The “Ishta Diksa.” It has five parts:

1. Pre-meditative Asana (to stretch out the stiffness, “instead of trying to OM it away”)
2. Nadi Shodhana Pranayama (alternate nostril breathing — just 4 rounds, eventually maybe 8)
3. Hum Sa Kriya (inhaling Hum up to the mid-brain, exhaling Sa down to the base of the spine, visualizing a white ball of light tracing the path)
4. Ajna Bedhana (lick your finger and wet the center of the forehead, to “pierce” the third eye… meditate there for 18 minutes)
5. Mantras (to ground the energy, a few repetitions of each of these mantras)

We were fairly close together in the large room, but it was fine for the simple warm up sequences of Cat-Cow, Cobra, Child’s Pose, etc. I managed the whole thing in cords and a sweater; you don’t really even need a mat. The breathing exercises, the kriya, and the meditation brought tingles up my spine. Alan walked around doing Shaktipat (raising kundalini energy, usually by holding a hand gesture near the student), and the tingles intensified like the teeth of a comb running up my scalp and flying out the crown of my head.

We grounded ourselves (brought the energy out of our heads, and back down towards the earth) with the mantras and a few more poses. The mantras were complicated — I was absorbed just trying to match the hand gestures — and I didn’t want to do any more asana, but I had to admit I felt more settled and less spacey afterwards. (He made us do wall sits! I haven’t done that since early morning crew practice.)

I was tickled and touched by the experience, and happy to have another spot of inspiration to support my meditation attempts. Thank you Alan!

I knew that Sun Salutations were a good place to start; they supposedly contain every essential alignment, and since students are forced to do them all the time in classes, they would be valuable topics to cover.

I was also thinking about the specific audience: Internet Week participants, i.e. people who sit in Computer Pose 40 hours a week. So I thought some wrist, shoulder, neck, and back movements might be good: Table Top, Locust, Rabbit, Seated Crescent, Spinal Twist, Bow. Also some stretches for the hip flexors, which sit in 90º forward bends all day: Lunges, Hero, Camel.

And I was chewing on something Leslie said last week: “the PRINCIPLE of Chaturanga is learning to hold the body all in one piece.” (Quote is approximate.) It was so interesting to think about a single lesson we can learn in each pose. And then I thought, well, this is a good thing to work on in ALL poses: finding the unity and integration of the body. On a practical level, it teaches us to avoid injury by using our whole body to lift boxes, get out of bed, stand on our heads, etc. On a mental/emotional level, it reduces the hierarchical war of head, heart, gut, and hips; we want them ALL to be happy and acknowledged. And it’s a good metaphor for the Internet: bringing vast and varied communities together in one piece. It’s kind of the whole point of yoga: union, coming together.

Finally, I was feeling like challenging Down Dog. Ever since my shoulder injury, I have been realizing how complex this pose actually is. There are a thousand ways you can arrange the shoulders in this pose, and a thousand points of emphasis. It’s a subtle balancing act of how much to widen the shoulders (or not), externally rotate the upper arms, internally rotate the forearms, straighten the arms (or not), send the sitbones or the tail to the sky, lengthen the spine or relax the neck… and that’s not even getting into the unique upper body strength one must build. (Practicing Half Down Dog standing at the wall is a great start, but still we need something to fill the vinyasa.) So, all I needed was another relevant aside from Leslie (“Down Dog, for all its ubiquity, is not really a beginner’s pose…”) to have the validation I needed to try something new. (Leslie, here’s a prime cut of someone taking your ideas and bastardizing them straight into yoga class ;) Child’s Pose is the usual substitution, but I didn’t want to lose the upper body strengthening entirely, so I played around with Dolphin, the forearm stand version of Down Dog, where I could focus on the shoulders and upper arms more clearly. So this is a full-fledged Vinyasa class with absolutely no Down Dogs.

And then I took some of my favorite poses and glued everything together in an order that flowed. Here it is. It went well enough that I got a round of applause at the end of the class :) :) :) For those of you that attended the class, I hope you enjoyed it and find a way to make it your own!

The Principle of Chaturanga: Being One Piece
a beginners’ workshop for Internet Week

Seated

Breath Scan — your own MRI, if you notice any pain or unusual sensation, that’s your focus for today (listening, not “fixing”)… otherwise focus on being all in one piece

Standing

Leading the Witness — lead with head, heart, lower back, hips to bend forward and come up; notice the difference

Mountain — find relaxation downward, balance upward

Arm Spirals — inhale and rotate palms out, exhale and rotate palms in… keep expanding motion until arms, spine and head are included (thanks to Leslie for this one too)

Raised Arms — circle up and down from Mountain a few times

Prayer — bring the hands together, down the center line of the body

Sun Salutations (inhale/exhale each movement)

Raised Arms

Forward Bend — hands through center, lead with the heart to come down

Low Lunge — first foot back

Plank — find the body all in one piece! heels to head

Knees Down — find one line from the knees to the crown, elbows stay by sides

All Down — drop heart in front of fingers, forehead down (eventually Plank > Knees Down > All Down is all on one exhale, we did a few rounds to get to this)

Baby Cobra — find arch in UPPER back, shoulders relax, navel stays in

Child’s Pose — lift navel and hips back to rest on heels, reboot

Dolphin — elbows stay down, tuck toes, straighten spine more than legs

Table Top — knees down, straighten arms

Low Lunge — first foot forward

Forward Bend — second foot forward and relax

Repeat other side, repeat the whole cycle a few times

Standing Parallel

High Lunge — from Low Lunge, drop back knee, inhale arms up, maybe lift back knee

Revolved Lunge — twist across front thigh, feel spiral in UPPER back

Airplane — drop hands, maybe forearms to floor inside front foot… drop back knee if desired

Splits Prep — “runner’s stretch”, flex front foot and sent hips back to sit on heel

Standing Split — point front foot, walk hands forward onto blocks, torso rests on front leg til back leg is light and lifts up

Forward Bend — release top leg down, relax everything to ground

Repeat other side

Arm Balance

Crow — find one line from middle finger to elbow to shoulder… lift from center to find balance

Standing Rotated

Extended Side Angle — from Low Lunge, turn back heel down at 45º… maybe take same hand to hip and rotate hips to side wall… maybe take front elbow to knee and lift torso… maybe take top arm to sky, find one line from front foot to top fingers

Warrior II — lift torso to vertical, arms stretch front and back (move from ESA to WII a few times)

Extended Side Angle II — top arm reaches to top corner of room, find one line from back foot to top fingers

Side Plank — top arm drops inside front foot, back foot rotates 180º to rest on ouside edge, front foot moves to middle of mat for support, other arm reaches up to sky… find one line through core

Repeat other side

Standing Short + Balancing

Triangle — from Low Lunge, turn back heel down at 45º… maybe take same hand to hip and rotate hips to side wall… take front hand to block in front of calf… hop back foot in to make equilateral triangle with legs… work to straighten front leg

Forward Angle — take top hand down to another block, square hips forward, extend heart to horizon

Revolved Triangle — keep second hand down on block, lift first hand up to sky and feel rotation in upper back

Warrior III — both hands to blocks, move them 12″ in front of front foot and lift back leg and torso PARALLEL with ground, find strength in back body from heel to head

Half Moon — take the hand of the leg that is lifted, place on hip, rotate hips to side wall, feel change in hips

Warrior III — rotate hips back to parallel, feel the difference

Knee Hug — stay on one leg, bend back knee into chest and stand up

Tree — place sole of lifted foot onto inside of leg, find equanimity up and down

Shake out legs and repeat other side

Back Bending

Standing Backbend — from Mountain, place hands on hips and lift collarbones to lengthen front of body

Camel — kneel, tuck toes, find same lift and length from collarbones, maybe grab one heel then other

Hero — from kneeling, bring knees to touch, feet wide… sit on block between feet, maybe floor, maybe lean back

Plank — lower down through Chaturanga! to count of five, to floor

Locust — point toes, interlace fingers behind back, lift upper back off floor

Bow — bend knees, maybe clasp ankles and stretch legs to open shoulders (I forgot to include this one in class)

Child’s Pose — draw navel in to come back

Forward Bending

Rabbit — from Rock, clasp heels and roll head down to floor, forehead touching knees… stretch hips to sky

Dangling — sit up, cross one ankle over other, plant fingertips by thighs, lift pelvic floor and navel up

Staff — bring legs straight out in front, sit on front of sitbones, press palms next to hips, lift heart and flex feet

Seated Forward Bend — same energy as Staff, inching heart (not head) towards toes

Wide-Legged Seated Forward Bend — legs very comfortably wide, feel pelvis tip forward over femurs, keep feet perpendicular to floor

Seated Crescent — bring feet about 3′ apart, turn towards one side, plant palm behind hips, lift hips, swing top arm to back of room and arch whole body up (repeat other side)

Hip Opening

Cobbler — bring soles of feet together, yogi toe lock on toes, tip pelvis forward to send heart down, relax head

Seated Spinal Twist — bring first foot across other thigh to floor, find both sitbones grounded, find straight spine, twist across leg, plant back palm behind hips so elbow can help straighten lower back

Pigeon — keep top leg at 90º, swing bottom leg around to back of room, prop hips, flex front foot, fold forward

Ankle to Knee — roll up, swing back leg around, flex both feet, rest top ankle to bottom knee, tip pelvis forward

Repeat other side

Closing

Half Bridge — from sitting, draw knees to chest, find parallel / slightly turned in feet hip width apart, roll spine down… lift heart to arch up, chest towards chin, interlace fingers under back and roll shoulders out… maybe grab ankles or rest hips in heels of hands

Neck Stretch — roll down, extend legs, interlance hands behind head, look at toes, turn head right to left

Corpse — relaxing each and every part of body, as if you’re a pool of water melting, a paraplegic with no ability to move at all, feeling breath like ripples on ocean, sink down to cool still waters beneath

Fetal Pose — from Corpse, wiggle fingers and toes, stretch arms above head, roll onto right side and scan body again

Seated Meditation — comfortable cross-legged position on block, feeling sensation of breath across nostrils, imagining you’re transparent, breathing in and out through every pore… as if we’re all water droplets in the same big cloud in the air

Repeat every day :)

“I hate Warrior I.”
Many standing poses create intense burning in the legs. This pose in particular has some goofy alignment on top of the fire. Back foot rotates out while hips face forward? Are you kidding? Just know that different traditions have different expressions of the pose, for different reasons. Iyengar aligns front heel to back arch; Kripalu has the back heel up, like a Lunge! Once you learn or decide the intent of the pose (for me, it’s a heart opener with a lot of fire underneath), you can wiggle the hips and explore the breath until you feel that intention with full-body participation. We all have different skeletons, no two poses will ever look alike. The stance can be very narrow if that is where you breathe fully and feel stable. The hips can turn towards the side if it lets you lift through the heart and stop sinking into the lower back. You want ease but not easy. There’s a lot of room for exploration. Your teacher’s head might explode, just tell them you have a doctor’s note for self-medication. Adjust.

“I hate Ankle to Knee.”
One of the most intense hip openers, Ankle-to-Knee (aka Fire Logs) gets right into the freaky tightness in a mysterious corner of the hips. All around the classroom, students avoid the full parallel of the shins and round into a cross-legged ball. Try not to care that they’re cheating. See above. For full sensation, keep the ankles right on the knees, not on the thighs. Flex the feet and try to relax. In martial arts tests, you hold squats for 1, 10, 20 minutes to get your belt. The secret is apparently to focus on the sensations of breathing, not the sensations of pain. Like life: if you run around thinking about your problems all day, you will not be smiling very much. So, sit up tall, and breathe up and down the back. Maybe an exhale tips the hips an inch forward; maybe not. As Leslie Kaminoff says, think about spinal movement, not spatial. A new door opened on intense poses when I learned to stay where I was. Relax.

“I hate Handstand.”
This inversion uses an invigorating combination of muscle and fear. Even against a wall, I used to freak out. I was sure I didn’t have the strength to hold it. Heart openers immediately prior helped — a little clasp of the hands behind the back before diving forward — but I still hated the feelings of panic and wobbly weakness while in the pose. It was too unfamiliar, there was too much going on. So, I simplified. An L-shaped Handstand allows both feet to be firmly on the wall, which somehow feels much more familiar and secure, so that the alignment of the shoulders can be the focus. (Since we want to work from the ground up, we have to tackle the hands and shoulders before the core and legs.) Eventually, each leg could take a turn extending to the sky.  I firmly believe it’s better to do one piece of the pose well, then all of them terribly. Simplify.

And finally, “I hate Sun Salutations.”
The jump backs. The Down Dogs. The repetition. There’s so much to hate! My attitude finally changed I think at Sivananda, when we were led through two rounds of Surya Namaskar, and then told to do three more at our own pace. It’s a shock to realize that you don’t know what your own pace is. Suddenly, this exercise was an exploration of how I actually wanted to move. I started skipping Up Dog, and appreciating Cobra. Keeping the step-backs, and their connection to the core. Hearing the breath more like a breeze than a freight train. Since then, I’ve noticed how different the speed of my breath is at different times of day — sometimes it wants to race, sometimes it wants to relax. Following the breath is like letting an alternate brain lead. It’s a different choreographer each day; the quality and rhythm of movement changes subtly and sometimes drastically. Breathe.

Acknowledging, deciphering and accommodating irritants will create positive reinforcements for your practice instead of negative. Practice in a way that leaves you looking forward to the next one, not holding subconscious dread. You will start to get it.

…as Baryshnikov explains it, what made Pushkin [his revered teacher] so effective was the logic of the step combinations he taught — the fact that they were true not just to classical ballet but also to human musculature. They seemed right to the body, and so you did them right. And the more you did them the more you became a classical dancer. Another thing about Pushkin, his students say, is that he was a developer of individuality. He steered the students toward themselves, helped them find out what kind of dancers they were. “Plus,” Baryshnikov says, “he was extraordinary patient and extraordinary kind person. Really, really kind.” If there is a point in classical art where aesthetics meet morals — where beauty, by appearing plain and natural, gives us hope that we, too, can be beautiful — Pushkin seems to have stood at that point, and held out a hand to his pupils.

— Joan Acocella, “The Soloist”

If my Vinyasa teacher saw my knee like this, her head would explode

Last night, at the invitation of my “friend”, I went to a Bikram class in the West Village. I haven’t been to Bikram in five or six years, but I practiced it for about six months when I first started yoga. At that time I was fresh off of rowing crew, and looking for something similar (that didn’t require 7 other women and a 200-pound boat). Rowing is just two poses, the catch and the finish, and you jump between them 1000 times each morning until it’s muscle memory, leaving just you and your willpower. Bikram’s 26 poses was the simplest sequence I could find.

Bikram is great for beginners: practicing the same poses each class gets you past their novelty, into details and then concentration. I like repeating each pose twice; seeing improvement from the first attempt to the second is an obvious reminder of the benefits of regular practice. It’s also one of the few schools where they use mirrors, so you get visual feedback on your posture as well as sensory. And the script (although I’ve never heard it delivered the same way twice) is chock full of alignment reminders.

But the genius of Bikram, the horrible unescapable challenge, is the heat. The poses are almost irrelevant compared to the stress of the sweat lodge. It’s just you versus the heat; your whole body yelling GET OUT OF HERE while your mind thinks maybe it can manage one more pose… Meanwhile the sweat is pouring out of you, the air seems to lack oxygen, and your muscles are going limp. Which is a good thing, you’re sweating out drugs you did in high school, and you’re only safe to stretch when you’re warmed up… but the only thing that gets me back into a Bikram class is my bad memory; I forget what a steamroller it is.

Last night’s class was at Bikram Yoga Manhattan, the Greenwich branch. They have a ridiculous 30 days for $30 special — that’s cheaper than going to the Russian baths for one night. The center was small, and of course smelled like a gym sock (they all do). But things were clean, and the owner was super friendly.

Stepping into class, the room felt invitingly warm. (It was a rainy December night in New York). Twenty minutes in, I was red-faced and sitting on my butt. Just the first few standing poses wiped me out — Side Bends, Back and Forward Bends, Eagle, Awkward Chair, Head-to-Knee, Dancer, etc. They were fairly familiar poses, but the continuous squeezing, pulling, and flexing was a muscular triathlon. In Kenya. And next time, I will start hydrating two days in advance. Apparently coffee does not count as one’s daily water intake. I got seriously light-headed, and since I occasionally faint, I was happy to listen to the instructor telling me “You know you can sit down, right?”

I thought it would be better once we got to the floor poses. I remembered that much. Instead, I felt my broiling skin smothered against a sweaty towel and rubber mat. How I wished I’d gotten a spot by the window! (Benevolent teachers will sometimes open a window a crack, to improve the ratio of students actually practicing to those collapsed on the floor.) But this was just the joy of the first-timer; it’s always horrendous the first time you run, swim, etc. after a long break. (The second time is SO much better.) And it was a reminder to BE a first-timer, and not see myself as “an experienced Bikram practitioner.” The only goal of Bikram Class #1 is just to stay in the room for the whole 90 minutes. ‘Cause if you go, we all go.

Finally, we made it to Corpse pose. Lying there, slowing my breathing, feeling the room cool bit by bit as each student departed, I reconsidered my mid-class swearing to never come back. Bikram is great to warm your bones in the winter, and I’ve been missing the sauna… why did I leave it?

I remember hearing Ashtanga was a “better” sequence — more complete, more challenging, less artificial. At the time I was Type A if I was anything, so I had to try it. (I’ll save my comments on Ashtanga Vinyasa for another day.) And there are no inversions in Bikram — no Headstand, Shoulder Stand, etc — since you’d pass out in the heat. I wondered if Bikram was indeed the best yoga… marketing.

Returning to the sequence, I realized it was not actually missing as much as I’d thought. Forward Bend and Wide-Legged Forward Bend are actually inversions, since your hips are over your head. Rabbit puts pressure on the crown of your head like Headstand, and creates a throat lock like Shoulder Stand. And there’s much more glandular work than I realized… the Standing Head-to-Knee and the Forward Angle (Parsvottanasana) are held with a rounded back (Pilates style) and the forehead to the knee, prioritizing pressure on the abdomen and forehead instead of the usual stretching of the hips/hamstrings. Other poses similarly claim to clear the glands and blood vessels by creating pressure or blockage in an area, to create a cleansing rush when the pose is released.

And if we look at the Sivananda sequence, which narrowed the “essential asanas” to only 12, we see that the Bikram sequence has covered the same bases (if we accept Rabbit and Forward Bends as a substitute for Headstand and Shoulder Stand, and Camel and Bow as a substitute for Bridge and Fish). Yes, there could be more twists. Yes, it’s too focused on achievement. But it is a good sequence.

I don’t think I could give up the creative dance of Vinyasa and go back solely to Bikram… my art teacher always said it’s much easier to loosen up than tighten up. But it will (well, it might) be making a nice adjunct to my winter practice for the next 30 days.

I was only half joking in the title of this post; Mr. Bikram tried to kill me. But that’s the path — the death of the ego, right? He created a crazy environment, trying to flatten my ideas about what I could and couldn’t do. He forced me into survival mode, a struggle through the heat of each moment. He tried to drown my internal narrative with his verbose, scripted instructions. But of course, he did not succeed; my ego remains in all its annoying glory. I’ll have to walk the boring path a bit longer than one class.

When I get out of my practice habit, all sorts of justifications and confused rationalizations arise. Like, isn’t walking a meditation anyways? I walk a lot! Aren’t asanas just intended to clear the mind for meditation? I meditate! Yoga is not just asanas, and I keep up the other parts, so aren’t I still practicing yoga? It’s like when I am so far past needing a haircut that I tell myself it’s actually a new, shaggy layered cut that looks really good. (Photos eventually advise me this is not the case.) Plus, I’m trying to stop doing things I think I should do, and start doing things I really want to do. (It’s my secret plan for growing up.) And yoga (asana practice) is in this weird place where I love doing it, but I don’t often want to do it. I used to practice very very athletically, and I think there’s all that memory of stress and strain that’s off-putting. Or I’m just laaaaaaaa-zyyyyyyyyyy. (And my boyfriend was living here for a week! It’s all his fault!)

Actually, I don’t have a regular lifestyle right now, and that’s probably the real root. Each day is different, each week is different, which means there’s a lot more decisions to make. And opportunities to skip. When I committed to Julianna’s Wednesday morning class, I went every week. The commitment got me out of bed when I didn’t want to get up, and gradually created positive associations for doing so.

But then I’ve had this whole other drama of wanting to practice on my own. I used to teach the morning classes at Om Factory, and it was usually just me and Fara (the owner), so I got to teach whatever I felt like each day, and practice too. It was the best. I had to show up, since I was teaching, but it ended up being this sweet buddy practice where I came up with a million new vinyasa routines. So obviously I do more when someone is watching me, but of course what matters is what you do when nobody is looking…

I got a good tip from Ariel (my new favorite teacher, why have I not blogged about him yet? Another Laughing Lotus expatriate, he and Julianna are the best and although this blog purports to be about good classes, I have not posted about either of them. Looks like I’m trying to hog them for myself). I told him I was having trouble practicing vinyasa at home, and I was wondering if I should keep trying to go with the flow, or go back to more of a set sequence. He said that when he started practicing at home, he would think of a pose he wanted to get into, and then think how he needed to prepare the body to get into it: open the hips, square the hips, etc., and then write that down.

So, I’m going to think a little bit further ahead. I get so “be here now” with all the present-moment focus of meditation, that I forget that it’s okay to be goal-oriented. I have been approaching my home practices one pose at a time, “how do I feel right now and which pose should come next,” instead of “which pose do I feel like doing, and how am i going to get there,” — acknowledging the preparatory work that is needed. The stream-of-consciousness flow can come later, not in the difficult opening minutes.

And, I’m going to try to commit to a regular time. (Note that I can’t even commit to saying “I commit” yet.) 4pm has been good lately; it’s when I hit my afternoon work slump, and there are a lot of teacher-focused (or cheap/community) classes then if I decide to go out for class. Plus, I read that Vatas (and people with sleep disorders) do better practicing in the evening, since it clears their minds for sleep. Finally I can let go of my guilt at not doing the almighty morning practice!

I guess the biggest lesson for me here is that while it’s good to keep a sense of perspective, there’s help to be found if you look for it.

EarthRise Yoga with Derek Beres

So, I went to take a class there, the BF got me a guest pass. He likes the Wednesday night class with Derek, who happened to be in my teacher training. I’m always curious what Atmananda graduates are teaching, if any of them are still teaching the sequence. Derek studied Budokon for a while, and now calls his yoga “EarthRise,” so I was excited to see it. He’s always been a clear, solid teacher, and he teaches 10 or 15 classes a week at Equinox so I know he’s popular there. I’ve done one group fitness audition, for NYSC, but I didn’t know if Equinox classes tended toward spirituality or aerobics. I mean, obviously the latter, but my question was, to what extent do the popular teachers focus on meditation, philosophy, etc.

Class was a physical challenge. The focus was strengthening, and of course it was the day I’d moved a vanload of furniture in and out of my fourth-floor apartment. We did some crazy Down Dog and Chaturanga variations that left my arms wobbly. (They could probably use the work — inversions are my most unsteady poses.) The climactic sequence was something like:

• Down Dog Split
• Plank with one knee outside the shoulder
• Push-ups with knee outside the shoulder
• Flying Crow with knee outside the shoulder
• Down Dog Split with knee bent
• Dancing Dog (touching bent leg down towards Full Wheel)
• Side Plank on the other side
• Dancing Dog Split (top leg slides under the body at 90º)
• Side Crow
• Low Lunge
• Crescent

The sequencing was really creative, BF says the class is different every time. It’s been a while since I’ve experienced so many new poses and transitions in one class, and it was nice to return to the novelty and exploration of beginner’s mind. The first half of class was a strong workout, with plenty of variations offered, and good reminders to have fun. He had the class laughing a couple times, which cut through any competitive kill-face. We spent about 40 minutes in standing / challenging poses, 20 minutes in fixed / meditative poses, and 15 minutes in pranayama and cool-down poses. I was surprised to have so much cool-down, but it was much appreciated. About 40 minutes in, my sore muscles were like, “we have another 50 minutes of this???” but the class eased up shortly after and closed closer to 75 minutes than 90. The steam room after class was heaven, almost reason enough to become a member.

The students were mostly mid-level, and not very flexible, so that is good to know if I ever try to teach there. The more muscular we are, the tighter we are, so of course a gym population is probably stronger and tighter than a yoga studio’s students. I’m not sure what I would teach at an audition; the last one was 40 teachers taking turns teaching 5-minute segments. I could do a key pose like Wide-Legged Seated Forward Bend, where there are a lot of alignment details or variations to share, or a quicker sequence of a few poses that is more creative and feels better, or even a meditative pose with more of an inward focus. I guess this reflects my wandering spirit right now; on one hand, I feel kind of weak and scatterbrained, so strong vinyasa classes would seem to do me good, but on the other hand I’m wanting peace and quiet, so I resist them.

The 39 Steps

Pietre Dure

Step Afrika

Bot Garden

• theater: The 39 Steps, brilliant plot (it was a Hitchcock movie) and brilliant comedy
• dance: Step Afrika, a tap/rap amalgamation created by college kids (also a horrible “modern” dance performance to the Sound of Music that was immature and incoherent)
• art: Pietre Dure (Medici-era treasures in stone) and William Turner exhibitions at the Met; Salvador Dali exhibition of drawings in SoHo; Brooklyn Botanical Garden (with Japanese pond)
• music: 200 Guitars was canceled, but we saw a fusion band at Lucky Cat and live music at Moto
• food: The Olive Vine and Le Gamin, Enid’s and ‘Snice, Taipan Bakery bubble tea all make me hap-py

I was definitely a wee bit cranky by the end, I usually get yoga withdrawal symptoms around day two of no yoga, but we walked at least 20 miles so I was not too wound up. She had agreed to go to a hatha class on Saturday morning — I told her how slow hatha helps lubricate and strengthen the joints — but when I got up at 9, sluggish and ready to bail, she was already showered and dressed and we didn’t want to go. Plus, she thinks slow yoga is boring, and fast yoga’s too hard on her knees. Maybe I need to get her drunk first. The wine helped her walk…

So, last night I finally went to the park to practice. I ran three miles, all inspired by The New Yorker’s article on the marathoner Ryan Hall. But my usual practice spot was full of mosquitoes, and the whole park was crowded like it was Family Night, so I did no more than 10 minutes of poses. I did sit by the fence to meditate for five minutes. I’ll give myself one gold star for managing to keep my eyes closed as the teenagers and stroller moms walked by. At least I didn’t get clipped in the head by a soccer ball, like the jogger ahead of me.

I guess I didn’t do ZERO yoga — I stretched my feet and back every morning. But I’m not sticking to any of my previous goals. I’m such a compromiser that I’m not good at carving out time for myself amid family or work obligations. Serious practice requires serious naysaying to friends and family… and my mom agrees, my ringtone should be “I’m Just a Girl Who Can’t Say No” from Oklahoma. Which sucks, because habits dissolve so easily… I’ve heard it takes 4 weeks to build a habit, and only 1 day to break it. I need a 40-day boot camp to set myself up, then maybe I’d be better trained. The good thing is that I got back on my practice as soon as possible, I’m not doing binge-and-purge stints any more. Short, regular practice is better than longer, infrequent practices. But I think I need to be more specific and enthusiastic about my goals, I get caught up in this non-doing, process-oriented mentality and forget that it’s OK to have goals in yoga; it inspires practice. (But when it’s all about getting The Yoga Body, it’s maybe not so enlightened.) So, I’m going to do some layouts for The Book today, and that will give me some homework. I want to write a bit about each pose, and there’s quite a few I haven’t studied in depth.