Disorderly Echoes

Tags

Balakrama, CBD, city sounds, conspiracy theory, Dreadlocks, Hanumanasana, harried, hyper-vigilant, ocean beach, Panic attacks, patchouli, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, rehab, tidal flow, Yoga

All it takes is a second.

The crowded CBD embraces me in its familiar sounds.

*Ding Ding!* say the endless parade of trams, criss-crossing the city.

Buy The Big Issue! Support the homeless and long term unemployed says the familiar face on the corner of Swanston and Collins.

Hustle, hurry, watch out whisper the feet and faces of harried city workers heading home for the night.

Just like me. Heading home, but not so harried, on my way to yoga class and not late as I’d thought I might’ve been, detained at work in a chat with a co-worker as I explained how evidence, any evidence can be used to prove all kinds of things. In an attempt to tell her why I simply can’t get into the whole conspiracy theory thing…

But anyway. Here, on the street and amongst a wash of people, multiple tidal flows and currents, gotta be careful not to get sidetracked from where you’re going.

Until I notice the guy just ahead of me and off to my right. Red and white horizontal striped shirt. My thoughts float off on their own tangential current and it takes me a while to catch up.

And they say things I’m not proud of.

Dreadlocks. Dark skin. But no! It’s not HIM, right? This guy’s too broad shouldered, too tall. So that’s okay. And he has body odour, nope HE never smelled like that. For some reason his skin always smelled like patchouli or something (crap, I wish I hadn’t remembered that!)… nope, it’s definitely not him…

I’m just a touch hyper-vigilant now. I notice everything around me. Though not out of freedom or joy, but deeply held habits.

I don’t feel afraid really, just alert. Just watching. Just hoping against hope, even after all this time, really hoping that I never do see him ever again.

But I remind myself that he’s not my enemy or anyone else’s. I know this. Still, I look. Every time I see a guy that looks remotely like him, I check to make sure it isn’t. I see differentiation and potential danger. Still. It makes me feel a little bit ashamed, almost like I’m being suspicious of an entire sub-set of people – those who look anything like him – for no other reason than their physicality. It feels kinda wrong to still think/react that way five years later.

I’m not completely free yet. Damnit!

But I know I’ve come a very long way. I’m happy. I’m not depressed or dealing with PTSD flashbacks. Even the panic attacks have begun to fade. And I’m doing way better than I ever imagined – in the depths of my pain and terror – was possible.

In some ways, I’m my own hero for surviving, being able to smile and dance and find compassion for all beings, myself included.

But while I confirmed it wasn’t HIM, I was engulfed in a burst of adrenaline that left me feeling drained. And tonight in Shadow Yoga, it was back to the Balakrama (Stepping into Strength) prelude. I was not feeling strong, and as such had my asana royally kicked.

My shoulder by the way, doesn’t require surgery (HOORAY!). It does however need lots of rehabilitation to break down the scar tissue surrounding my AC joint and rotator cuff. Let me tell you that rehab makes me want to say LOTS and LOTS of rude words.

So I now feel safe to push my shoulder a little more in yoga, but the stiffness is pretty bad. Yet tonight, it wasn’t the only part of my body feeling weak. My right leg wouldn’t stop shaking during standing poses, and after the fourth (two per side) Hanumanasana, I couldn’t do much more than roll sideways out of the pose.

Gotta find my legs again, regain my balance. Just like learning to handle yourself at an ocean beach: when you’re wading in or out of the water, you’ve gotta keep an eye on the upcoming waves and choose whether it’s best to stand your ground, or dive over or under the crest of the wave…

~Svasti

Foundations

Tags

Balakrama, Balance, bone graft, Chakri, Chankri, Faith, feet, Great Barrier Reef, light bulb moment, non-existent limitations, Plant your awareness in your feet, Shadow Yoga, Travel, Trust, Vahni, Yoga

I’ve large feet, but apparently not as large as they should be (anatomically speaking) for my height of 179cm (or 5’ 10.5”). They are an Australian size 9½ which is a 41 (European) and 8½ (US).

They are my father’s feet: weird squiggly toes and plenty of calluses that I get smoothed down whenever I have a pedicure.

They’ve carried me to many places around the world: Egypt, Chile, England, Wales, Orkney Islands, New Zealand, America, Bali and Thailand. They’ve trekked through dessert sands, snorkelled on the Great Barrier Reef, climbed dormant volcanoes, skied many an alp, belly-danced all over Sydney, walked dogs, taken part in the Sydney City to Surf, swum thousands of kilometres… they’ve done a lot for me, these feet.

And yet, it seems I do not trust them as I should.

Have I taken them for granted? Have I assumed limitations for them that do not exist? Am I wary of what they can and can’t do, and am I afraid to find out?

It’s true; they’ve let me down in the past. Or perhaps it was me that did the letting down? There’s been two broken toes in their history (both on the left foot – little toe, then the one next to the big toe), one bone graft (see photo), and several sprained ankles. They’ve suffered abuse as all dancer’s feet do. They’ve coped as well as they could given my high instep.

And actually, they still make awesome ballet pointed feet, even today. Which was always a bonus as a synchronised swimmer, back in the day…

But now I understand that I don’t have complete faith in my feet. Which, when you think about it, means I don’t have complete faith in myself. But of course!

Last Sunday in Shadow Yoga we began to learn another part of the Balakrama form. You can see a little bit of the series in the video of Emma Balnaves, below…

Unfortunately it cuts off just before you get to see Chakri. Which is performed with the legs in horse stance, and requires you to rotate your upper body in a revolving circle. Dipping the upper body forward and down, between the legs and back up again. All the while, keeping the legs in horse stance.

In case you’re wondering, it’s not easy to get it right. But it is far easier than I thought it was. At first, I relied very much on my upper body and core strength to complete the circle. I don’t think I was the only one.

Our instructor corrected the class with words we hear often in Shadow Yoga: Plant your awareness in your feet.

Then perform Chakri! And oh, the lightness in the body! The smoothness of my circles compared with how they had been!

All I had to do was allow my body to rest in my feet completely. Doh!

More evidence is to be found in my attempts to perfect Vahni, which is in the opening sequence of the video clip. Here’s a screen grab so you can get a better look…

In Vahni, you are sitting on your back heel. This is what anchors the pose. Thus far, it’s the hardest part of my Shadow Yoga practice (of course, what we each find challenging varies with our different bodies, strengths and flexibility).

Sometimes I can do it and others I find I’m still holding onto a block either side of my body as I struggle to find my balance.

But I learned something last weekend: I don’t have a balance problem at all, if I allow the weight of my body to sit more fully on my back heel.

Right now when I do that, it feels almost like I’m going to fall over. But then I don’t fall; instead I’m sitting on my heel. And Vahni (the flame), is steady.

While it feels as though I’m leaning back, really, I’m just becoming more upright. My weight shifts onto my heel and I am vertical.

But a lifetime of leaning forward has pushed my sense of vertical off-center. I’m perfectly fine with standing, of course. But balance poses (as I’ve mentioned before) have always been a bit vexatious for me.

It’s been both a physical and emotional leaning forward. Physically, because I was always head and shoulders above my friends from age twelve. And because I got very busty, very quickly: something that’s caused many back problems over the years. Emotionally, because the first instinct for someone in pain is to curl up in a ball. Our shoulders hunch forward and we seek comfort by making ourselves small and round.

Shadow Yoga is fascinating because it seems like the “under the hood” version of yoga. Like how a boy with his new bike will take it apart so he can see how to put it back together. This is my experience of Shadow Yoga thus far, in all its primal and intense expressions.

Its true, my balance has improved this year, and really, really improved in the last couple of months… since I started Shadow Yoga.

Still, in Vahni and Chakri I have troubles. Because they are looking through the magnifying glass at tiny details, and absolutely it breaking down. So I can see.

And what I see is that my balance issues are directly proportional to the faith I place in my feet and myself. Do I trust myself not to fall? Do I believe in the strength of my body and mind?

These kinds of realisations are one of the many miracles of yoga. And its amazing how such a light bulb moment can change your entire practice instantaneously. And then, how your practice then extends out into your life!

As has been said many times, yoga was never meant to be solely an ‘on the mat’ practice…

~Svasti

P.S. Pun fully intended. 😀