Stumbling Yogi; Practice and Knowledge

-

It is a funny thing. 6 months ago I'd have said I was experienced at yoga. After all I've been practicing for years. 

Never a week has gone by without my trying to bend my aching limbs back into life. To 'recover' from my running by inflicting a different type of demand on aging ligaments and knot ridden muscles.

This year I committed to daily practice. Little did I know the impact this would have on my life.

The team at YoyoSno (www.yoyosno.com) kicked things off in style. So much so I'm already booked in to kick off next year the same way.

My yoga took a dramatic change in direction on my return from the retreat. After years of focusing on the Ashtanga and Viniyasa forms of yoga I have now moved to Viniyoga (originally developed by Tirumalai Krishnamacharya and brought to us via his son T. K. V. Desikachar).

Under the instruction of Zoe at www.yogaleicester.co.ukI have had to learn to discard much of what I thought I knew. 

Slowing my practice to a snails pace, viewing my practice through my breath, connecting with flows of energy I never knew resided inside me. Becoming one with my body, mind and spirit.

I thought I knew yoga. It turns out I've just been practicing. Getting ready for this moment when I am ready to go deeper.

There is a space and depth that is created through practicing in this way. A space and depth that free the heart to feel and the buddha within us all to glimpse freedom.

Something beyond myself has lit a hunger inside of me to know more and practice more.

I read the Yoga Sutras when I was a much younger man. I revelled in the beauty of the language and the heritrage they presented. Reading them again now I realise that I was utterly ignorant to the wisdom they possess. I had knowledge of them but no practice. Head but no heart.

As we fast approach the mid-point of 2018 I find myself moving slowly from practice to knowledge in my body and knowledge to practice in my mind as I explore the simple complexity of the eight fold path.

As I take this journey it is great to know that I am not alone, I recently read a great journal from a fellow (albeit much more experienced) yogi which describes the impact of simplifying and slowing our practice. This really resonates (www.theyogastudiosomerset.co.uk/2019/05/11/idling-along/)

To any other Stumbling Yogi's out there, Om Shanti

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Highly educated, deeply ignorant. The things I wish I had known when I was 21.

-
Image
With a son who is about to turn 18, a daughter about to turn 16 and a stepson who seems to be catching them up despite his 11 years, I have been giving some thought to what I wish I’d known when I was a younger man. I’ve learned lots of lessons, all the hard way. What would this limping, scarred old man say to his 21 year old self? What lessons will I pass onto my three? ----------------------------------------------------- Ignore health fads. The only health advice you ever need is to eat well, exercise often and always make time to listen to great music that makes you dance around the lounge, on your own, like a total loon.  Invest in your mind, body and soul. It’s the friend you’ll know the longest .  Ignore what anyone else wants for your life, despite their best intentions they’ll make you waste it. You are beautifully and perfectly made for a reason. Find it and live it without apology. You are enough . You don’t have to prove anything to any...
Read more

Truth found in Ignorance vs The Bliss of Blind Certainty

-
Aren’t the old meant to understand more? Old and wise, that is what we were promised. As for me. 48 and clueless; and all the wiser for it. Let’s start with the big stuff; we should always start with the big meaty stuff, especially when faced with a Sunday roast.  Faith, God, the big “why” we are all here, where we came from and where we return to. To quote Rob Bell, “the thing behind the thing behind the thing”. In my teens I radiated certainty.  The Church of England proclaimed the truth on a Sunday morning. I swallowed the bread, wine and doctrine and was thankful. If I lived well I’d make it to heaven when I died. Deferred joy and no need to grow or challenge myself in any spiritual sense.  Then came the messiness of life and choices and other people’s views, eloquently argued. Certainty waned, replaced by a hunger to find something more substantial. I needed the chewy meat of roast chicken to replace the broth of my youth. Like a blunderin...
Read more