Welcome to the Living Practice Spring - Summer 2005
Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward Facing Dog)
BY Leza Lowitz
Balasana (Child's Pose) BY Leza Lowitz
Zin and the Water Bucket retold BY Aaron Hoopes
The Great and Gentle Man from Madras: Srivatsa Ramaswami
A Month Long Course at Loyola Marymount University, Los Angeles, CA By Charlotte Holtzermann
Good Karma - How one New York City yogi learned to give By Sadie Nardini
July 2005
Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward Facing Dog)
BY Leza Lowitz
Within my body
there’s a city –
nameless streets
dead-end alleys
of pains and promises,
mapless Atlantis
cordoned off
by years and bones,
The muscles pull
the tendons throb
my joints crack out
their resistance –
places I’ve ached
undetected
for a quarter of a century
send out their muted frequencies
from an unfamiliar
pose.
descending too quickly,
I implode.
Down here, or even up there
breath is the most
difficult of absences
and so, two finger-widths
Into the hara
I find my bearings
mind-body-belly
oxygen tank both empty and full.
Listen to the place
You feel it the most
says the teacher,
head dangling from
adho mukha
svanasana
a single bulb
on a simple cord.
So once again
I go down deeper
to where
the muscles pull
the tendons throb
the pains travels
its clandestine escape
And then retreats
in the halfway reach
where each breath
razes another
skyscraper I’ve aspired to,
brings the earth up
a little between my toes.
Reprinted from Yoga Poems: Lines to Unfold By, Stone Bridge Press.
Leza, published author, yoga instructor and co-owner of
Sun and Moon Yoga Studio located in Meguro, Japan.
June 2005
Balasana (Child's Pose) BY Leza Lowitz
Plunging
into the river of joy
diving deeper and wider
within this wraparound life
reborn in the body
as a smile
reborn
in the breath
as radiant light
reborn in the space
between pose and repose
rocking
in infinity -
embracing the union of all that is
and will be.
Reprinted from Yoga Poems: Lines to Unfold By, Stone Bridge Press.
Leza, published author, yoga instructor and co-owner of
Sun and Moon Yoga Studio located in Meguro, Japan.
June 2005
Zin and the Water Bucket retold BY Aaron Hoopes
It was a hot, dry summer in the land. The village sat on a rise
above a glistening lake. The villagers were having difficulty
getting enough water for their crops. Zin, the wandering sage,
appeared one day and offered to be the village water bearer until
the fall harvest.
The villagers were grateful for his help. Zin found two water
buckets. One of the water buckets was sturdy. The other bucket
looked sturdy, but it had a small hole in the bottom. Everyday Zin
carried the water buckets along the meandering trail from the lake
to the village. Up and down, back and forth, over and over.
Each and every time he reached the crop fields the sturdy bucket was
full. But each and every time the other bucket, the bucket with the
hole, was only half full. Half the water had leaked out through the
hole in the bottom.
This bucket, was not a happy bucket, ashamed at its imperfection and
miserable that it could only perform half of what it had been made
to do. The sturdy bucket was proud of its ability to stay full. Not
too proud, mind you, it was just a bucket after all…
…Anyway, the sturdy bucket was proud of its ability to stay full.
The other bucket tried to do everything it could to … hold its
water, as it were. But, being a bucket with a hole in it, there
wasn’t much it could do. At the end of the harvest Zin thanked the
buckets and prepared to leave.
The leaky water bucket could hold back no longer. “uhm Sir, I’m
sorry.”
Zin turned. “Why?”
“I’m useless!” the bucket cried. “everyday you carry water from the
lake to the village, up and down, back and forth, over and over, and
every time half the water leaks out before we get to the fields”
“That’s how it is.” Zin nodded.
“but I can’t stop leaking … what a waste”
“It’s not about what you can’t do.” Zin said as he picked up the
bucket and carried it to the door. “Look.”
He opened the door and gestured out to the azure lake below the
village, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. The bucket looked. As
far as the eye could see, from the shores of the lake to the distant
fields…one side of the meandering trail was lined with flowers and
herbs. It was a beautiful, almost magical sight. Everywhere else was
dry and barren.
“I knew you leaked, so I planted seeds along the trail.” Zin said.
The bucket would have cried with joy, but since it was a bucket, it
just dripped.
Zin smiled. “Everyone has their own unique flaws. But it is the
flaws we each have that makes our life interesting and rewarding.
Take each person for what they are and look for the good within.”
"Wherever you are, whatever you are doing...I wish you blessings and
the hope that you are happy, healthy and safe." Stay tuned for more
Zin' s Adventures retold BY Aaron Hoopes.
May 2005
The Great and Gentle Man from Madras:
Srivatsa Ramaswami
A Month Long Course at Loyola Marymount University,
Los Angeles, CA By Charlotte Holtzermann
Studying with Srivatsa Ramaswami is transforming. He’s the real deal - clear, lucid, inspiring. He conveys the meaning inherent in pursuing the whole eight limbs of yoga. He shares his deep understanding with humility, strength and great, good nature." So wrote teacher and 30 year yoga student, Sherie Sheer, about her month long study with Srivatsa Ramaswami. Students felt connected to a lineage of a full spectrum of yoga: asana, chanting, philosophy, pranayama, service, study and meditation.
Ramaswami studied under the tutelage of Krishnamacarya (1888-1989, considered one of the great yoga teachers of the 20th century) for 33 years and was Krishnamacarya’s longest standing student outside his own family. From the age of 15, Ramaswami arose at 4 A.M., bathed and went with his father to Krishnamacarya’s house at 5 A.M. to practice yoga before going to school and later to work as an engineer in his father’s business. Ramaswami studied with Krishnamacarya for 15 years before he began teaching yoga in a school of dance. It made me ponder how brief my own study of yoga was before I began to lead classes.
Our classes met in University Hall, a large classroom and office building perched on the south bluffs of Los Angeles. For four weeks, a group of 30 yoga teachers and students from Canada, the Midwest, Texas and the West Coast met every morning from 9 A.M. to noon to practice Vinyasa Krama with this great and gentle man from Madras.
Our teacher greeted us individually as we arrived before class. He began each session with chanting, explaining the meanings of the prayers as blessings for the teacher, the students and the teachings. We entered the sounds of Sanskrit.
Om Saha Navavatu
May we be protected.
Saha Nau Bhunaktu
May we enjoy the experience together.
Saha Viryam Karavavahai
May we study with energy.
Tejasvi Navadhitamastu
May we become filled with the luster of knowledge.
Ma Vidvisavahai
May there be no disharmony between us.
Om Shantih, Shantih, Shantih
Peace, Peace, Peace
Every morning, we began our practice with a standing sequence designed to open the chest cavity, shoulder girdle and arms. Ramaswami asked two members of the class to lead the sequence at the front of the room. By the end of the month, everyone had taken a turn. We stood in silence for a few moments in samasthiti (a state of balance). With heads bowed in jalandhara bhanda (chin lock), we raised our arms overhead to open our core body in twists, side, back and deep forward bends. We listened to the quiet voice of Ramaswami, breathe and speak through a microphone. "Inhale raise your arms overhead. Exhale —now lower your arms."
It felt like we got on deck and set sail. A wind arose in the room as our breathing joined in the steady—whispered air of ujjayi (throat breathing). We sailed in prana sanchara—movement of the breath. The floor creaked as our feet spread into balance, facing a courtyard view of red gladioli, a water fountain and wavering feathers of pampas grass, luminous in the sunlight.
The first week we encountered about 150 vinyasas (variations) stemming from tadasana (the hill pose) and asymmetrical seated postures. Our teacher described the essence of yoga as lying in the bandhas, muscular locks which massage the internal organs. He emphasized that the bandhas distinguish yoga from other forms of exercise.
We practiced jalalandhara bandha by bringing our chin down towards our raised chest. This allowed my spine to lengthen, the back of my neck to feel open. We gathered our pelvic floor in mala bandha (rectal lock). We drew our abdomen up and back in uddiyana bandha (abdominal lock) in the pause after our outgoing breath. Using these bandhas in poses gave me internal anchors.
Ramaswami asked us everyday in a cordial way, "Would you like to try this pose?" After each sequence, he invited us to "now please lie down and rest." This made me look at my language to students in my classes. How often I command, "Now let’s do this pose."
Ramaswami believes the practice of yoga in America can be enriched, by offering the whole tradition. The key idea, he said, is enriching asana and he presented numerous lessons for doing that.
During his month long residency, Ramaswami offered Vinyasa Krama on weekday mornings, a Saturday morning class in Samkhya Karika, the metaphysical principles that underpin yoga, and on Saturday afternoon, Chikitsa Krama, a workshop on the applications of yoga as a therapeutic tool.
Vinyasa Krama yoga is a logically planned sequence of movements and poses with appropriate breathing, a method of linking breath to movement which Krishnamacarya used to teach asanas. Each movement is performed on a deliberate in or out breath. Ramaswami said Krishnamacharya insisted on synchronizing breath with movement.
Vinyasa Krama means the art form of doing Yoga. Vi means variations possible, ni means permanently and aasa means to place correctly. We practiced flowing sequences originating from a standing tadasana position. We learned root poses and an array of variations along with the counter poses for each.
Each week, Ramaswami introduced about 200 poses to the Vinyasa Krama class. With pages from his forthcoming book projected on the studio wall, students could observe a core pose and its progression of variations in sequence, as well as a large image showing the details of each pose.
We climbed into difficult poses and watched adept classmates demonstrate advanced postures. Notebooks, laptops and cameras were allowed. Two students monitored video cameras on tripods at the back of the studio.
During the third week, we practiced sequences of trikonasana, triangle standing Poses, vajrasana, seated postures, and a series of viparita asanas — inversions. Ramaswami recommended letting the legs hang limp in the air for the first few moments of the inversion, a subtle point of practice and how releasing it is to let the blood descend through the veins before reaching up with the feet. He impressed on the class the importance of practicing sarvangasana, shoulderstand, everyday for at least five minutes.
Having taught yoga for twenty years in hospitals in India and more recently at the UCLA School of Medicine, Ramaswami conveyed the importance of not using yoga as an alternative therapy for acute conditions. "Yoga is for relatively healthy people," he cautioned.
In every class, our teacher responded to numerous questions. Suheila Mouammar, mother of three sons, asked him to speak about food and eating. Standing in stocking feet with shoes removed, his hands gesturing to and from his heart, Ramaswami advised chewing a few leaves of basil first thing in the morning, grinding them together with neem leaf, turmeric and fenugreek.
He recommended eating only to half one’s fullness: three handfuls of food at a meal, and having a light supper in the evening. His summary was jovial. "You know, we say a yogi eats one meal a day, a bhogi eats two meals a day, a rogi eats three meals a day." This teaching stays with me, putting three handfuls of food on my plate.
We closed our daily practice sitting in shanmukhi mudra (closing of all six sense organs) for five minutes. With crossed legs and elbows at shoulder level, we pressed the pads of our fingers into points near our ears, eyebrows, nose and mouth. Sealing off the outer world, hearing the furnace sound of breath in our inner ear, stillness enveloped us. I felt full and balanced after each class and realized a new promise to always include time for pranayama and quiet sitting at the end of asana.
At lunch every day, a small group shared a meal brought to campus by a nearby Indian restaurant. Amidst the burgers and fries going down in the cafeteria, we ate raita, pappadom, sag palak, dal, allogabi, pullao and salad, gently cooked vegetables and legumes in spicy sauce with yogurt, rice and bread. I tried to imitate our teacher’s small portions. We shared some leftovers giving the rest to a student who took them to homeless people at the beach.
Members of the Vinyasa Krama class were affected by the month-long plunge into a daily three-hour practice of chanting, asana, breathing and meditation. Jessica Harper, a recent LMU graduate in dance said: "He offers completeness. After this month, I feel more balanced in my soul. This practice brings me closer to the kind of life I want to lead. It’s teaching me how to be a human being, humble, letting go."
Michael Manoogian, an LMU professor of civil engineering and environmental science said, "This month of study altered my approach to yoga practice. It reinforces my awareness of the depth of yoga.”
I was struck by Ramaswami’s steady energy at age 65, teaching for three hours every weekday morning, working with individual students in private sessions in the afternoon and offering lecture and discussion for a further five hours on Saturdays.
Ramaswami showed us how to be more balanced as we live in an ancient tree of knowledge. I notice my spirit is steadier. There is more breath moving through my back. Daily life feels more like service and my energy is lighter after a month of morning practice with my kula, a group of yogi’s riding the waves of breath filled vinyasa.
Ramaswami will return to LMU in November 2005 to continue teaching in the Yoga Philosophy Program. Visit http://extension.lmu.edu/yoga for information about courses and events.
Charlotte Holtzermann teaches the Alexander Technique and Beginning Hatha Yoga at Loyola Marymount University. She writes on health and well being in Los Angeles.
March 2005
Good Karma - How one New York City yogi learned to give By Sadie
Nardini
This trip is going to be shi-shi; don’t get me wrong.
I am a New York City yoga studio owner who loves to lead my students
on fabulous yoga retreats. I work hard to find magical,
once-in-a–lifetime places where we can downward dog while enjoying
the complimentary inspiration of our surroundings.
This is the city where anything goes, and every dinner order can be
substituted ad infinitum. We have restaurants that serve only rice
pudding, and spas that cater not to people, but to their dogs and
cats. You can pick up the phone at 3 am on a Tuesday, and within 30
minutes, you’re eating the best sushi outside of Asia. No one does
their own laundry anymore, including me. I have forgotten if whites
go into the hot or cold wash.
Therefore, my local students expect a certain level of service and
convenience when we travel abroad. For a worldly city, New York has
a strange way of accustoming its citizens to demand only the best.
That means no matter where we go, we expect the room to be extra
clean, the waiter to recite the specials without looking at a piece
of paper, and the bartenders to know how to make a cosmopolitan in
their sleep. We know it’s not rational, but then, neither is the
fact that we pay people in yellow cars to take us everywhere.
This April, I'll be taking a group to South Africa, mostly because
I’d never been, and a few of my friends and students wanted to
celebrate their 40th birthdays somewhere uncommon, exotic, but with
great local wines--a vacation to remember. I'm excited to go abroad
with my new man, teach yoga by sunrise in the bush, and enjoy
“sundowner” cocktails at dusk. Out of the 10 animals pictured on the
brochure, I could only identify four, which intrigues me greatly.
Two months ago, all I could think about was what to wear on safari.
Then the Tsunami hit, and rocked the whole world. The wave that
claimed so many lives and dreams hit me too, and millions of others
in a different way—right in the guts, and the heart. It took my
breath away.
I was immediately reminded of 9/11, and how my yogi friends and I
joined in the effort to help those who were at Ground Zero for hours
each day. We gave massages and short yoga classes to the rescue
workers: police officers, firemen and others who sometimes needed us
to just sit there quietly while they told us what they’d seen. It
was both horrible and healing to be together at that time—for all of
us.
As I heard the Tsunami death toll rising on the news, I felt that
same mixture of powerlessness, fear, and a desire to do something,
anything. All visions of formfitting khaki shorts vanished, as I
struggled to find a way to help. My studio co-founder Elizabeth
Rossa and I decided to put together a last-minute free yoga class to
benefit the rescue and rebuilding effort. We chose to give all
proceeds to Doctors Without Borders, since we felt as healers, our
money would best be placed within the healing community. Besides,
Doctors Without Borders made it clear that they were going to use
the money wherever it was most needed, and reminded us that the
Tsunami, though horrible, was hardly the only tragedy happening in
the world.
That one class raised over $700. Not a lot, but more than I could
afford to give on my own.
I was inspired, and so I asked the South Africa group if they would
be interested in spending an afternoon of the retreat in a poor
township, helping to build a house for Habitat for Humanity. I
hesitated to bother them with it, because after all, these women
were going in order to celebrate themselves, and be totally pampered
to boot. But in the end, my conscience won out. I asked.
Their response was overwhelmingly positive. Instead of an afternoon,
they wanted to spend the whole day hammering, caulking and sweeping
someone’s new home they’d never met, and would probably never get
to. So, we've agreed to make our yoga class last an entire
Wednesday, with no yoga poses in sight!
Am I still a New York City princess? Of course. We’re staying in a
5-star lodge for the safari, I fully plan on asking the bartender if
he knows how to make a Cosmo, and I will hunt down and find those
perfect shorts before I leave.
But now my perspective has shifted, and as Elizabeth and I plan our
future yoga retreats, we’re including an altruistic project—visiting
a children’s charity, helping the homeless, or donating to those who
are terminally ill, in each one.
I used to shy away from the discomforts of life, but the more I come
to the mat, the more I have begun to crave that place, where I can
really make a difference in my body, heart and spirit. I believe
that once we are awake to our true individual potential, we can
begin to direct our actions outward, into the lives of others,
shifting the world outside of us in large and small ways. I have to
insist that they both matter.
Helping people gives me even more satisfaction than nailing the
perfect handstand, because my energy becomes connected to the larger
community. The good vibes and self-knowledge I gather in my yoga
classes need to be offered freely for the good of others at some
point, or my practice can become a selfish act of vanity. By
balancing self-centering with selflessness, we open a current of
loving between ourselves and the world, and as Shakespeare once
said, “The more love I give to thee, the more I have”
Once I realized that my yoga practice is not only about me, I wanted
to get my hands dirty, even more because if I don’t consciously
choose the path of Karma Yoga, I will never have to labor like so
many people do in order to survive.
So I give, and I encourage my students to give, because even though
we struggle too, in the final analysis, we have more than enough.
The biggest and best part of being a yogi, and especially a
relatively privileged yogi, is that we have the gift of
ourselves--our time, energy and perhaps even money to share, and
tonight, at 3 am, writing and ordering sushi again, I ask myself —
if we don’t, who will?
Contact Sadie at
sadie@shriyoganyc.com or visit
www.shriyoganyc.com