This past weekend I attended a Yin Yoga workshop with Paul Grilley. It was terrific. Paul is a very smart, experienced and equally entertaining teacher. Though in light of the very quiet and introspective nature of the yin practice, I was surprised to find its primary advocate to be so lively, hilarious, extroverted, satirical, cerebral and well…….yang. I laughed more often than not and the time flew by. Not what I expected from a workshop spent sitting in poses for several minutes at a time. I left with a lot of new information, a lot of new food for thought and a healthy dose of uncertainty as to how to progress forward in my teaching methodology — which I think should always happen after studying with a great teacher.
For those of you unfamiliar with Yin Yoga – the gist is pretty simple to grasp. There is a small repertoire of poses (sixteen in all). The practice is to sit as passively as you can comfortably in the poses for several minutes. The explicit goal of the practice is to stretch connective tissue (more on the implicit goal following). This “stretching of the connective tissue” is the subject of some controversy – is it really a good idea to stretch joint tissue?
It was particularly interesting digesting this information having come straight from a 108-hour Anusara immersion. Like the Yin Yoga workshop, the Anusara immersion left me full of great food for thought and a fair amount of uncertainty as to how apply it all to my teaching methodology. Again, I think the desired effect of a great teacher is one who makes you question everything you think you know (thank you Christina Sell; you’re a brilliant gem). From the Anusara immersion and conversations with Anusara teachers, I have gathered that Anusara’s opinion of Yin Yoga — and the premise that passive stretching is a good thing — would be best described as skeptical, if not entirely dismissive.
In the Yin Yoga workshop Paul gave a demonstration of the wide variance of skeletal structure and how the same principles of alignment given to one person in chaturanga, for example, will, for the other person over time, lead to serious rotator cuff injuries. One person satirically asked if just ‘opening to grace’ (the first principle of Anusara yoga) wasn’t enough. Paul also often referred to the many yoga books written before 1975 (before the influx of Vinyasa in the West) saying that those guys had it right.
Perhaps, but I personally didn’t find the two methodologies to be mutually exclusive at all. I think they are both brilliant and even complimentary in their methodologies. But it really spurred my thinking about how there are as many yoga styles as there are religions and how there is great potential for them to become just as dogmatic, defensive and divisive.
In my view, there is a style of yoga practice for every kind of person and even for every phase of life. What worked for the Ashtangi in her twenties may not serve her in her 50’s and 60’s. What helps a woman soften and open through pregnancy likely will not serve her post-partum. Just mention the word Bikram in a Krishnamachary lineage studio and you get snarky looks from practitioners — but I know several very seasoned yoginis who were nursed back from injury and even childbirth fortifying themselves quietly in the back of a sweltering Bikram studio.
Who’s to say this yoga is “right”? Who’s to say to those yoga practitioners “hey, ur doin’ it wrong”? Isn’t it all good stuff if it works for you? Can’t there be as many paths to practice as there are variances in skeletal structure? Can there be more than one truth?
It reminds me of a quote Maricarmen read in class from one of her teachers, Ganga White –
“Life is a miracle to which we have become numb. We have to stop seeking and start finding. After years of exploration, I say that the essence of yoga is love. If your yoga becomes mechanical and cages you into a belief system, it’s not yoga. If it brings about compassion and love, it is yoga. Nature is full of immense beauty and sacredness. It’s all around us when we stop looking and begin to see.”
That sounds right to me. Which brings me to what I find the most important take away from the study and practice of Yin Yoga – the implicit goal of the practice: Learning how to sit still, quiet and introspective for longer periods of time. A path to meditation for those of us who are not altogether inclined toward meditation.
For my life currently, stretching deeper is less relevant than cultivating a practice that allows me to be still and present with all that is turbulent, tumultuous, vulnerable and fragile within. Right now, it is less important whether I can put my legs comfortably behind my head than whether I can lay peacefully with my toddler — for the 45 minutes it sometimes takes her to fall asleep at night — when I’m exhausted and hungry, with a mile-long, to-do list before going to bed myself.
When I can let all of that go, and be fully present in the sweetness of her baby breath as she drifts off to sleep, for me, this is the ultimate goal of practice. This is the truth of Yoga. To be awake to the beauty of life – regardless of the method that brings me there.
~ Jenn
