Ribs, Anyone?

No...not the barbeque kind....(heh heh)

Alright, y'all, so this line of inquiry started for me several months ago when, after many moons of wondering how on earth I am supposed to "open my heart" without "sticking out my ribs" a teacher FINALLY gave me an image that rocked my little rib-cage world.  "Imagine," she said, as we stood in tadasana with our arms raised (um, that's the one where you're just standing up, for those who left their Sanskrit dictionary in their other pants), "that your rib-cage is heavy and descending downward."  And maybe she said something about thinking of the rib-cage as one solid unit, or maybe that's just how it occurred to me as I tried it, but something about that image just clicked for me, and suddenly I felt how my ribs could...how do I put this...RELAX?

Yes, that's it. 

I imagined my rib-cage dropping straight down...as if it were some kind of bony sweater-vest being hung to dry from the clothesline of my collar-bones, and everything my teachers are constantly telling me to do ("pull in your bottom ribs", "expand your back ribs", "tuck your ribs in") it all just happened...effortlessly.  And I felt this immense and I mean IMMENSE relief.

And I realized that my heart is inside this cage of my ribs...and that if the whole structure descends and then the heart lifts...well there's more room for it to peak its little heart-head over the top of the cage, like a prisoner checking to make sure the coast is clear before she escapes.

I mean, I'm positive that physiologically that's not what's happening...but still.

So, it's this image I've been working with in my own practice for months now, and the more I work with it the more I realize that my ribs have been trying to do waaaaaaaaaaay more work than they need to do.  My ribs are showy little buggers--"Here I AM!"--they seem to be always shouting, all jazz-hands and protruding chins.  Well, no more, you scene-stealers! No more!

It's just one more way, I'm coming to see, that my body is trying (sneakily) to escape from itself.  Because when I hush those ribs, when I quiet them down and in, when I let them descend, when I give them the day off...I become...with myself.  The ribs literally become integrated back into the center of my body and likewise I become more centered.  My breath drops to my belly.  My shoulders relax.  And as things begin to loosen up down there in that protective armor of my torso, I realize...my god, I have spent so much time walking around HOLDING on.  My ribs have been like some puffed up bodygaurd.  (I'm mixing metaphors like crazy, here...my heart is a jailbird, and my ribs are apparently both like an attention-starved choreographer AND a juiced bouncer at a club.  What can I say, but that it's 3AM and I'm blogging...). 

What I mean to say is...my ribs used to be like some puffed up bodygaurd and NOW they are not.

Isn't it interesting, how we hold on to ourselves in all these ways...thinking that it will make things easier, or safer, or more perfect, and isn't it interesting how that is just never the way? When when when when when will we learn (and by "we" I mean "me) that the safety and the ease and the beauty comes from fluidity...from letting go...NOT from always gripping so damn hard?

Pairs of Opposites...

I'm a Libra, let me just start by saying that. And I think I'm, like, a hardcore Libra. I think probably if someone looked at my chart (which someday I'm going to do, because I love that stuff--any system that attempts to explain even a little bit the mystery of who and what I am, I'm all for it.)--that if anybody looked at my chart everything would just line up to form a picture of two perfectly balanced scales.

I used to think (heh) that Libras were Libras because they were sooooo balanced. What I have come to find out, as my life marches unflaggingly into Adulthood, that Libras are endlessly SEEKING balance, which, if you carry that thought just a little further--if they are seeking it, it probably means they do not have it, i.e., ergo...Libras are probably endlessly, endlessly out of balance. Or else what fun would the seeking be.

But, I'm sorry, this is a blog about yoga, not about astrology. That would have to be called Celestial-Town or something and my sign-off name would be AstroLia. (Hmmm. AstroLia...that either makes me a pet on the Jetsons or someone who lives in a pink-painted house on Pico with a neon "Psychic" sign out front...). Anyhoo...what this has to do with yoga is the following:

I have, over the past few months in La-La-Land, been practicing obsessively at a studio called Still in Silverlake. (Which you will be hearing more and more about over coming weeks and months, I promise). This is my first intimate acquaintance with Anusara Yoga and, folks, I'm in love. I can tell you the following, upfront, about Anusara:

1. It was started by a guy named John Friend, who is apparently a Texan and names poses things like "Wild Thing". Also, apparently you can either say he started Anusara, or you can say he "downloaded" it. (Yikes!)

2. John Friend is still alive and he looks very friendly. (pun intended)

3. It's based on 5 principles, of which I am not totally clear, but it's a very very detail-oriented practice when it comes to alignment.

4. To become an Anusara yoga teacher you have to study like a maniac. It's something like 4 years of hatha practice, 2 years of Anusara, 500 hours studying with Mr. Friend or another master teacher, a written exam (that's like 30 hours of work), a video exam...it just goes on and on. Needless to say...the teachers know their sh--stuff.

5. Anusara is a lot about the heart. It is a heart-based practice, one might say, and this is what draws me to it. As my life, I am learning, is also a heart-based practice...

6. I can almost do a handstand without the wall, my backbends are rocking, my shoulders are finally opening the way they should and I have about 3,000 times the alignment knowledge I had before studying at Still. Before now the only "inner spiral" I knew anything about was the one that happened in my mind on a really bad day.

7. Twice I have been moved to tears by the practice here.

8. While not a vinyasa practice, there is a definite flow-y-ness to Anusara that feeds my need for speed.

(That's it I guess. Those are the 8 things I know about Anusara. That list will grow as time goes on, I'm sure.)

But, what was the point of all this? Balance. Ah, yes. Balance. So, as I begin to learn more and more about proper alignment in this thing called Anusara, the following themes keep appearing:

that, in order for there to be inner freedom there must be strength in the structure. Meaning, the pose has to be set up properly in the periphery (hands and feet and head), and in the big muscles, everything aligned properly, in order for the heart to be free.

that both rigor and softness must exist in the pose. Meaning, if you are only technically minded, there will be no place for the heart to soften. But if you are all ooey-gooey soft and lovey only, there will be no structure and the pose will fall apart.

and,

that you must first hug to the midline in order to expand. Meaning, muscle energy must draw in to the midline of the body and the core or focal point of the pose in order for expansion to be possible*. Both the drawing in and the expanding out then and must happen simultaneously.

*any Anusara teachers reading this PLEASE feel free to correct misinterpretations!

Sense a theme here? B-A-L-A-N-C-E. Apparently, it's everything. And I cannot help but think of how often in my life I play either one end of this spectrum or the other...I am either muscling through my life, attempting to get everything done and done perfectly, or I am just completely loosey-goosey, claiming "openness" but really just allowing things to get sloppy and out of hand, and how much I long, long, long for the middle path. (Libra, I told you) And I see this message repeated, of course, in every form of spiritual thought I am interested in: you must not be too hard and you must not be too soft--you must, you must must must must must must must find the midline. And it is this way in art making too, isn't it? You must have structure to have freedom, and it is impossible for one to function well without the presence of the other. Art without structure is a mess, and art without heart is, well...empty. And this practice, this Anusara practice and this constant daily reminder has been so necessary, as I am in this new city, embarking for the first time maybe ever in my professional life on a path of true focus, and every week I am struggling with myself and the seductiveness of clinging to one extreme or the other: WORKING HARD or GIVING UP and finding that in-between place is difficult, to say the least.

But this is what I love about yoga, people! This is the one thing I am trying always to wrap my mind around--that the poses are metaphors, that the practice is just the physical map of what it is like to journey towards steadiness, open-heartedness and grace. It is amazing to me, the gift that yoga gives in that way--that you can have a teacher lecture about alignment, speaking only about the anatomy and the specific lining up of muscles, head, feet and hands, and that contained within it (whether they know it or not) are these really large lessons about how to live your life.

Line up.

Find the heart in the pose.

First go in, before you expand out.

Breathe.

You know this. I know you know this. It just breaks me up, over and over again.

All for now...

YogaLia