One of the things I appreciated about the way Bikram taught yoga in the 70’s and 80’s was that his teaching addressed only the body. He was a teacher of yoga asana. He didn’t claim any spiritual prowess, didn’t claim he’d reached spiritual heights; he believed he’d created a system that would heal most people’s ailments and bring health to their bodies. The fact that the mind and soul were likely to be soothed and balanced as the body healed itself: he reminded us of this, but it was not the point of the practice. I was a Catholic and knew enough about the rigors of religion to know that there could be nothing simple about Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, so I was glad not to have chanting and prayer in a language I didn’t understand. I was glad not to have one dependent on the other. The spirit is always present, so it was in the room as we practiced, but there was no dogma attached. Bikram was not a guru, except inasmuch as the word guru means teacher. He taught us what he considered medically approved postures from a yoga lineage that prescribes specific postures for specific physical ailments. He created a system that addressed every part of the physical body and helped to bring overall well-being and healing. He taught us in a warm room, not a hot room. Women had to wear leotards and men short shorts so he could see the structure of our bodies as we moved in and out of postures. There were no water bottles in the room. We took a break after tree pose to pour ourselves a tiny Dixie cup of water. Most of us went back into the world without a shower. Without extreme heat, in a room just warm enough to protect our muscles, keep us comfortable and loose, we could work incredibly hard in each posture. We were not struggling to stay in the room; we never had to sit down. It was incredibly challenging, but we had the presence of mind and focus and strength to press into ever-deeper corners of the postures. Regular people’s postures improved at an incredible rate. Bikram asked people to come five days a week. It seems to me he asked us to do that for one solid year, if we possibly could. This was the way he could guarantee miracles. We were innocent. We listened with all our hearts and we knew little enough that our minds were open. The contracted thigh muscle was a revelation as day after day week after week we could move more deeply into the standing head to knee, bow, and balancing stick. Doing it the right way meant paying attention only to one’s self in the mirror. Going only so far as the locked leg stayed lock and no farther. There was no exhortation to touch the fingers between the toes in triangle -- because not all bodies will, if the elbow is in the right place -- we stretched in the direction of our toes and the ceiling. There was no exhortation to lower the belly till it was parallel to the floor, or to bring the chin to the shoulder, in standing bow; the instruction was to kick back, keep the leg locked, fall out and start again; if the knee bent for an instant we were to step back and start in from the beginning. The foot would rise from behind the center of our head, and we would bend forward, find balance and stretch our fingertips to touch the mirror. Then the right shoulder would disappear behind the left shoulder, one day, and the brain zeroed in on the right buttock. And, on another day, the leg would kick right into the splits for a second or two and, to Bikram’s delight, the whole body toppled. Always always trying the right way. Two gates side by side at the airport, with one plane going to China and the other to Morocco: it matters which gate you walk through. At the start of the journey, they are almost indistinguishable, but take the wrong gate and you wind up on the wrong side of the earth. Practice each posture in the right way. Nothing was more important to Bikram in the good old days. Sometimes he’d be wowed by a pretty ballerina who kicked into an unhealthy bow or a nubile being who could circle his face back around and smile from between his thighs in camel – without taking the time to learn precisely how. But mostly, Bikram’s classes were the only classes in town with old people, obese people struggling to change their lives, people with cerebral palsy, people with ailments that would keep them from feeling comfortable in most yoga classes. His series heals the body if you take it slow, practice the right way, reform bad habits, and give it everything you’ve got. A lifetime of yoga, and I’ve never been hurt by a posture. Every part of my body has transformed through tolerating increments of discomfort, using my breath and pushing through to the next moment -- tolerating more, uncovering more layers of suffering, stagnation, and resistance. My body still ages. My karma still plays itself out. But for over forty years, I’ve practiced living life with my body as my ally, and I’ve learned how to use it so it will be able to walk with me till the day I lay it down.
Posted on: Thu, 31 Jul 2014 01:25:59 +0000
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