Join Our Ashtanga Community

A slightly different post today but one with which those who practice regularly will sympathize.

I've been practicing Mysore-style ashtanga at the YogaWorks on the Upper West Side of NYC for nearly 3 years now (2 years practicing 4x/wk or more). And, as evidenced by this blog, it has changed my life. I am more fit and focused, my head is clearer, and I have no doubt that the recent, sudden advances in my playwriting career are an indirect result of daily practice and all of it's benefits.

Recently, YogaWorks threatened to cancel our Tuesday and Thursday classes, which -- as any ashtangi knows -- doesn't really make sense. Sure, when you start out, ashtanga 2 or 3 days a week is plenty. But as you get deeper into the practice, the greatest benefits come from practicing at least 4x/wk. Naturally, there was an outcry from the current students and now after several plans and proposals the survival of our ashtanga community boils down to this:

Get more students.

Not a lot more. Not even people who come every day. Just a few more people who want to try ashtanga out and who would start by coming to class 2 or 3 days a week.

And so I'm asking all of you to come join my ashtanga class! As someone who has traveled all over the U.S. and studied with teachers in Miami, Chicago, Denver, Detroit, and Louisville, I can absolutely assure you that my teacher at YogaWorks, Evan Perry, is one of the best. Despite adjustments that are targeted and deep, he enters and exits them in a way that feels natural and comforting. He has a very detailed understanding of anatomy, has helped me work through many weaknesses and (when I first started) injuries, and will always answer any questions you have. And to top it off he's a really nice guy.

Plus, for those who think more practically, relative to other ashtanga programs throughout NYC, membership at YogaWorks is fairly inexpensive (about 60% what you would pay to practice Mysore-style elsewhere).

All right. There's my spiel. Please feel free to ask me questions about the class or my teacher, whether you practice ashtanga or have never even heard of it. I'm certain that if you come practice with us for a couple of weeks you'll experience immediate benefits. Whether it ends up being a practice suited to you in the long term, obviously I can't say. But you'll never know until you try, right?

Floating is So Easy That It's Hard

Something must have been truly inspiring for me to revive this old chestnut, huh?

Out of nowhere, I started floating back to catvari in Surya Namaskara B this morning. I flattened my hands to the ground, lifted a bit in Uddiyana, and sent my feet back. The first time it happened I didn't really notice. The second, I was all, "Wait... what just happened?" Then during the third, fourth, and fifth I was sort of blissed out.

What's odd is that last fall I started TRYING to float back. I had been practicing for 2.25 years, and I felt that I shouldn't be jumping anymore (thanks, ego... stupid ego). So I kept working on mastering the float. Of course, I failed miserably at it and eventually relaxed back into my practice. Now that I've actually done it, I understand why it was that I failed.

Floating is (as it sounds, duh) about ease and not effort. I was really open this morning, so all it took was a solid handprint and a little lift. And without the jump back in my Surya Namaskara the rest of my practice was so much more peaceful. I think that, even though the jump helps me to understand the lift, there's something about the gearing up for it and the landing that punctuates my practice -- amps up the excitement or jars me out of the meditative aspects of vinyasa. I'm curious to see what degree of additional peace can be cultivated when my body figures out how to float forward.

Who knows whether I'll be able to even do it tomorrow? If I am, though, I'm going to try and float forward, too. I mean... uh, I'm going to ease into floating forward. Or, uh... I'll try to. No. Uh... I'll just do whatever happens.

Here's a video of some dude who floats with an amazingly light touch (I didn't look like that!), complete with Sanskrit counts: