finding the buddha, the dharma and the sangha on the road and bringing them home
Last year I packed my bags for three months and moved from Los Angeles to Iowa. My greatest fear was not the bone-chilling winters, ruthless tornadoes or the sparser selection of vegetarian menu selections. My greatest fear was the change in my yoga practice without the plethora of abundantly available classes that take place at almost every hour of the day or night on nearly every street corner in Los Angeles. I had come to love my usual classes and had become dependent on the routine. In a vastly different setting and my self-imposed exile from my familiar studios, I had the opportunity to explore the difference between yoga in the classroom and flying solo.
At first I thought I would enjoy some long overdue quality time with my yoga mat. I could select my own music, set my own lighting…what could possibly go wrong?
Well, it turns out, a lot. At first it was small things. The window was open so I got up to close it. Then it was too stuffy so I got up to open it. Then I decided the song playing wasn’t exactly perfect so I decided to select another one. Then I realized I really ought to make a playlist first. Occasionally I decided I was a hungry, maybe I should make a snack. Were the blinds up too far? Not up far enough? The distractions mounted as the days continued. And when I did manage to stay on the mat, the experience never seemed to match up to my yoga classes.
I was never satisfied because I was seeking a replacement for something that was irreplaceable. After all, when it’s just you and the mat, it’s just you and your thoughts. There is no one else to glance at and no teachers’ soothing words. Los Angeles-based yoga teacher Will Duprey explains, “In terms of people looking for the ‘high’ a yoga class gives, it’s because it’s easier for people to listen to someone else than to hear in their own mind that they are light, beautiful, steady, perfection…in class, this is given away freely and sometimes without intention from the giver.”
We have to realize when considering home practice versus class, that one is not a substitute for the other; they are completely different experiences within one unifying practice. Structured classes can be the best environment for aspirants to get their yogic toes wet, a place where they can learn the basics and the mechanics of the tongue twister postures such as ardha uttanasana (half standing forward fold) or supta virasana (reclining hero). I remember when I first began my practice I lowered myself down into a chatterybonga and thought, “this just isn’t right.” And the instructor was right there to adjust, instruct, remind. That’s exactly what the first few classes are all about: hearing the new language, getting a slow grasp on where your hands, knees and chin go in various postures. And of course: relearning the ins and outs of your breath.
Classes involve learning how to play the right notes on the instrument of your body, beginning to enjoy your practice while simultaneously being a member of an orchestra with the group dynamic driving the momentum. The combination of the energy of the other people in the room with the direction of the teacher as conductor can propel each individual into the unknown. So of course, when we look to replicate one of our classes, it will never feel quite the same. “How can you compare what you do at home?” asks Los Angeles yoga teacher and teacher trainer Psalm Isadora. “The big experience of a class is like a concert. At home, it’s much quieter. Right away you’re going to bump up against your expectations of what yoga is supposed to be.”
An in-class practice offers guidance and much more.”I actually find that the rhythm of the instructor’s voice is in general soothing. It helps me find my place in the flow,” explains New York student Giulia Stellari. “Compared to practicing alone, I get a more vigorous workout. I guess that my will to go deep into a pose weakens in the face of discomfort and fatigue; with an instructor I can overcome my own laziness and focus on the moment. This is a major improvement over practicing in my own home, where my tendency for list-making would otherwise bark at me through each sun salutation.”
“In the very beginning, you don’t know what to do on your own,” says Purna Yoga teacher and studio owner Rachel Krentzman, who is both the cofounder and clinical director of Equilibrium Therapeutics in San Diego. “You don’t know the asana (poses), videos just don’t suffice. People can hurt themselves if they don’t know the proper alignment and sequencing. As much as this is normal in the beginning, eventually you should be having an at-home practice.”
Why then, is there such opposition to taking our practice home and why is practicing in our own space so difficult? Yoga ought to be about relaxation, and yet practicing on our own can feel overwhelming. “I think typically we can’t relax – and can’t let go – unless we know someone else is in charge and running the show,” says Gena Rabinowitz, who practices in Berkeley. “But what we need to realize is that our clinging to tensions is an unnecessary addition to what could otherwise be a natural state of being. When we realize that, we go straight to the fruit of yoga – deep inner surrender, and total relaxation.”
This is much easier said than done. “I feel that I’ve struggled with a home practice,” confesses Krentzman. “I was committed to yoga, but only if I went to class. I’m heavily distracted, a typical vata (air/ether elements) imbalance. I found that I couldn’t even lay out my mat. My mind would instantly start to fly away.” Two things helped Krentzman discover her at-home practice. The first was signing up for a teacher training, where she had to have her own practice as part of the program. “Teacher trainings are wonderful if you need the structure of a class, because you have to log your at-home practice hours,” explains Kretzman. The other motivation was the birth of her child. She simply didn’t have the time to take her beloved classes on a regular basis. “I was basically forced to get a balance through my own practice.”
Everyone can bring back that balance from the studio, where community adds to the depth and meaning of yoga. Katchie Ananda, co-founder of Yoga Kula, formerly Yoga Sangha, in San Francisco, believes we need to have teachers and classes in order to reap the benefits of a yogic trinity – the Buddha (who represents the teachings), the dharma (duty), and the sangha (community). “The teacher embodies the aspect of the Buddha,” explains Ananda, “This teacher also gives access to the dharma. You must practice within a community in order to feel a connection and give back to the sangha. Teachers are like parents. They inspire students to become well-rounded.” And like in childhood, we must put in our time with a teacher before going off on our own.
There comes a point where yoga is about balance, and about the attention we put in our intention. The focus shifts to deciding what we need, without the help of a teacher or class. An orchestra works best when each member goes home at night and practices. In the same way, having our own yoga practice will make us more adept at playing the instrument of our body-mind-spirit. And yet when we struggle to maintain focus and the desire to practice on our own, perhaps this is a sign that we need our community, our teacher and even a little peer pressure, to get back on our mat.
Laura S. Marcove is a writer and acupuncture student living in San Francisco. She still struggles not to make a snack during her daily practice. She can be reached atLaura.Marcove@gmail.com
By Laura S. Marcove