Why We Travel to Mysore

Yoga at the Source: Why I journeyed to Mysore

Somewhere along the line I learned that it is better to dig one deep well than many shallow ones. Of course, there is much to be learned in exploration of various spiritual endeavors. But there is a special power to the choosing of one and then the concentrated practice of one.

For me, making the decision to travel to Mysore India to practice was easy. The execution of the trip was much harder. Many arrangements large and small had to be made. I had to work very hard prior to departure to put together as much money as possible. It required me to ask my partner to sacrifice, and to live on a paper-thin budget while I was away. Even given that, it required me to ask for an immense amount of financial support from others. I took out loans. I had countless people chip in amounts small and large so that I could travel. I think it’s important to acknowledge that the journey is sometime financially prohibitive and that its perfectly valid to study with a good teacher at home until you can afford it. Its also ok to ask for help if you need it, you might be surprised by who is willing to give a little of they have in order to support you.

Perhaps though, this element of sacrifice is the first component in the power of Mysore. Getting there is not easy for many of us. A lot of friction and heat are created in the process of preparing alone. Many people will give up a coffee or dinner out to support you. The aspirant must sacrifice even more. In this way, we all prioritize spiritual seeking over self-seeking. It seems that tapas and that inner fire of purification are working even at this level.

Given what it took to get there, I landed in India with a grateful and searching heart. I’ve never felt more a seeker than when I first stepped into the Shala there in Gokulum. I felt wide open to the possibilities of the practice. I was also keenly aware that for the first time in years, I was free to practice without distraction. In Mysore there was nothing else to do. No next class to run to teach. No traffic to battle. No dog waiting to be walked and fed. No clock watching as I moved through my asana practice.  Here is one great benefit of studying in Mysore: This sense of seeking amplified by the freedom from homes responsibilities allowed me to be foster a self-awareness I’ve rarely known. I hope I’ve brought at least a little of that increased sensitivity home.

If the journey-ing opened up a huge space for self-discovery, then Sharath and the legacy of Guruji guided me in the exploration. This is the birth place of Ashtanga and Sharath is the most experienced practitioner. He most closely studied with Guruji and his knowledge of yoga is immense and admirable. You can understand his knowledge when you hear him speak at conference, but even more importantly, you can feel it when he touches you. When he looks in your eyes you see his confidence and you trust him. You know that he is a vessel full of something ancient and important and that he is able to share it with you.

This is why I dug my well, all the way from Miami to Mysore. Because you can’t drink from the source anywhere else.

MONICA ARELLANO

Mysore reflections

When I decided to go to India, I didn’t know what I was getting into. I didn’t even really know why I was going. But something (or maybe it was just that I was excepted to go being an apprentice at Miami life center) got me to go through the motions to get myself to Mysore practicing under Sharath. This initial step of going to Mysore, of making the decision to go and not really knowing why, but basing it on faith for the sake of my practice, created an interesting mindset. It became less about me or about adding a cool experience to things I’ve done, and more about watching the experience unfold around this long-standing tradition of Ashtanga yoga. The process of going to Mysore with this mentality was important for my experience. I blindly threw myself into it and I came out on the other side stronger and feeling a little more settled. Slightly more in touch with the purity of this practice. This has given me faith, which is something I’ve always been a bit insecure about. Faith that things will turn out ok and that despite not really knowing what I’m doing most of the time- I’m on a path.

I think what happens internally in Mysore and in the shala is different for everyone. You get what you personally need in regards to the practice. Being there gave me the energy to settle into the deeper realities of my practice and the role it plays in my life. 

There was the space for all types of mental noise to surface. It brought the doubts I had about the practice to my immediate attention. being there gave me a sort of mental clarity to be able to sit with these doubts and understand why I had them. Is it supporting the kind of life I want to lead? Is it necessary to have one teacher? Is this a physically sustainable practice? Is it in-efficient to get stuck in one path and risk missing out on other ways of finding my truth? (just to name a few) But this practice doesn’t have to be physically detrimental or bring us shortsightedness. Instead it can be a space to work through all these things- to bring awareness to our limited perspectives. we aren’t doing it for the sole purpose of becoming physically stronger and more flexible, and so when we injure ourselves we don’t blame the practice for not being good enough for our spiritual path. Instead we hold up a mirror, and if we cant, our teacher can. Ashtanga yoga on the exterior can seem to be a regimented stuffy experience that doesn’t allow for the expression of our freedom. But many times, I tend to forget that Ashtanga yoga doesn’t equate to the order of poses given to us in primary, intermediate and advanced series. Those are just there as tools. It’s the process that happens inside- and the asanas given to us facilitate this process as a way of working though the eight limbs. Ashtanga yoga is Patanjali yoga and this is something that I understood with more clarity while I was practicing under Sharath. It can seem like it’s a narrowminded path and it can certainly become that if we lose sight of the pure intention of this practice- but it doesn’t have to be. Hopefully it’s the opposite, hopefully it brings us more freedom and a more complete view of the present moment so that we aren’t limited by our ideas of why we do this practice. 

this process of observing the doubts helped me become more established in the practice. I’ve always had these doubts and I think on a deeper level they were always there not allowing me to fully embrace this practice in fear of missing out on another way or path. facing my doubts helped me accept that there is no right way, or one way of approaching this practice. instead, the practice is here to support me in my life, whatever that might look like. the practice doesn’t need to have an image of perfection, because I’m not perfect, and so its imperfections can become my mirrors, something to observe. 

I also got a glimpse of my strengths in the practice- what has kept me coming to my mat for the past three years. My persistence and my curiosity. Being in Mysore fed my curiosity by showing me the potential for depth in this practice. One way I saw this was through its timeless and universal appeal- embodied by all those who were there with me and all those who have come before me. I was able to take on a broader perspective of Ashtanga yoga. It isn’t limited to MLC- it’s a universal practice that was ignited in India. There’s poetry in going to Mysore and receiving that same ignition from the source and getting a taste of that timeless quality. To receive it from the source of the practice, through a direct transmission of knowledge- through Sharath- made this the most genuine experience of the practice I’ve had. There were less opportunities for the knowledge and the practice to be tainted by superficial or biased ideas. Although, understanding how MLC strives to stand as a micro representation of this bigger picture has made the process of coming back home just an impactful as being in Mysore. All this- the ignition, the transmission of knowledge- I only got a glimpse of through my curiosity. But I got a good enough look to know that I would be back soon to try and understand this source more fully. 

One of my friends back home asked me if I felt a cultural barrier between me and Sharath. I was shocked that I hadn’t thought of this when considering my Indian teacher. it was a logical thing to ask. But, in the Mysore room, the things we use to dress our exteriors; like our culture, personality and clothes, don’t seem to matter so much. I was there diving deeper into my present reality and he was there to support and guide me through that process. it’s beautiful. There’s people from all over the world, with different cultures and languages, but we all have this strong common thread tying us together. the common thread of this practice. This unifying thing stands out more in the shala than it does back home because of the contrast created by our broadly differing exteriors. 

Mostly his teachings were subtle. He didn’t explain to me step by step what I needed to do or what the secrets to finding peace were. He didn’t even really assist me so much. But he did create a connection. At one of the conferences he told us that we don’t need to have a lot of conversations to create the teacher student relationship. And that was profound for me. He was right. I had this idea that I needed to spend a lot of time with someone and have a lot of conversations with them in order to establish a connection. But a connection can be made in an instant and a stranger can be a teacher. Something as pure as a connection between two people, like teacher and student, isn’t measured by words or time. It’s there as it is- in the present experience of it. I had to let go of some of my preconceived ideas to find a connection with Sharath. This seemed to be a common theme during my time in India- letting go of pre-conceived ideas to have an honest experience. I experienced his desire and ability to oversee my journey in the practice. my practice as in getting through primary series on any given day, and in the long-term journey that will hopefully unfold as a lifelong path. The space he created for me in my practice gave me the strength and the desire to keep looking inwards. His sincerity in passing down the knowledge he received from his grandfather inspired me to get on my mat every day and put in the work. Experiencing this firsthand gave me a taste of moving through the purity of this practice; the purity that can only come from the direct transmission of knowledge.

All these things have brought me to a place of deeper connection. Connection with the practice and the lineage. With myself. With others. It’s easy to theorize and intellectualize these things- but to experience it is beyond the workings of the mind. to be in the shala, in that energy, is magic. it’s easy to get caught up in all the noise surrounding this practice. between the different opinions and controversies and methods. But in the shala, under Sharath, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that we were all there together working towards better versions of ourselves. We were moving through the practice, moving through our selves, so that the rest of our day could make a little bit more sense with our slightly more open eyes, minds and hearts. 

KIKI SO

My trip to Mysore

My trip to Mysore, India was interesting. Traveling to a country like India can be very shocking to some people. The culture is very different then that of Western countries. I grew up in Asia though, so I already knew what to expect. As a woman, the sexism was apparent to me. Thankfully I was there during the winter season because I had to be fully covered even during the hotter days. Coming from Miami that is a big contrast. Practicing in the shala the first week was intimidating. I was placed in the latest starting group. I would wait in the crowded little lobby and peak into the shala to see and listen to the other practicioners. Sharath seemed to have eyes on everything. I was not surprised to have very little assistance during the practice until, and usually only with back drops. I felt that the practice was much more disciplined in Mysore than it is in other places. You can feel it in the room that everyone is there to practice and not to socialize, it was this way even after making friends. The atmosphere in Mysore was one that helped me to look within myself and my trip became very introspective. After coming back to Miami and practicing at the shala, it was not so easy to transition back to a more talkative and generally more social bunch of practicioners. I saw that many aspects of our culture, business and social life affected the degree to which traditional things such as ‘noble silence’ where adhered to. The silence in the shala in India was so soothing. The breathing that could be heard so clearly in the shala would drown out the unnecessary noises and distractions. I went to India during a difficult time in my life. I wanted to maintain a balance of keeping silence and learning to interact with people in the appropriate ways as to not distract myself. Coming back to Miami and practicing, assisting and teaching has made me look back on India to remember what I learned. My number one take away was the beautiful silence and dharana (concentration) that was developed during my time practicing there. I miss eating some of the food there and suggest bringing roll of toilet paper and handwipes at all times, especially as a female. Whenever I am asked how my trip to India was, I struggle to come up with a simple answer. It brings up a mixture of emotions and thoughts. Everyone must experience things for themselves to know how it will be for them.

ESMERALDA LAMAS

Experiencing Mysore

India was a magical experience, even though you don’t have all the commodities, like a comfortable bed, a shower or fast internet. Practice took me two hours every morning and it gave me the support to face the rest of the day in « raw » India with abandoned dogs, trash burning in the street, and poverty every where.

It took me about a week of daily practice to access my inner self, to turn it into a sacred experience. At first I wanted to see and hear everything that Sharath did during class; each  adjustment, each word … « one more »… But every time I raised my eyes, I felt like he was watching me and he really was! I could just read in his eyes : «what are you doing? what are you trying to see? Stay focus! » When the practice is felt deep inside, even though mats are laid so close one from another, it feels like there is only you in the middle of the Shala and you forget about everything else. Day after day, you delve a little deeper into your inner self, into that quiet place deep inside you. You stop the mind. You stop the struggle. You are just there, doing the work. Only you and your practice. It is simple but so difficult to explain. You don’t worry any more about your hip, or your foot. It is just about the combination of your breath, your gaze, bandhas . You surrender to the postures, to Sharath, to the magic. It’s happening, effortlessly. My inner experience was so peaceful. I could move a little deeper with every breath, while remaining more aware and more present with each second.

I believe it is important to let the assistants help you to improve your backbends. So one day, an assistant made me catch from the air very high up and I got injured. A very painful injury in my lower back. At night, I had difficulty sleeping because the pain was so sharp, but surprisingly there was something positive about this experience. Obviously I did not want to stop practicing because I was in Mysore and I had travel so far for this. But to be honest, if I had I been in Miami, I would have stopped to rest for a few days . But there in Mysore, I experienced that YES it was possible to practice with an injury even though it was at the same time very painful. Some days I went to practice with the inner commitment to only do the sun salutations and by the end of those I was thinking : “ok, I am feeling a little better, maybe I can do the standing postures now, and then ok only Paschimattanasana and so on until I would realized that suddenly I had actually finished the whole practice”. I learned to be more connected to my practice and I don’t mean putting my legs behind my head or anything like that. It is about letting go of your surroundings, it’s about not expecting to have a perfect asana. You are there, observing what is going on in your mind, your breath; simply distributing your awareness throughout your body. You just do the pose, relax and enjoy the experience. Be in harmony with your existence; feeling the peace of the practice without ambition … only the presence.

I learned so much during this trip. Now the most important thing is that I enjoy my self every step of the way up to the back bends that use to scare me so much. To be honest I am not sure if physically my asanas did improve so much, but emotionally I gained a certain maturity in my practice that I never though could be possible.
I’m so thankful for  Miami Life Center to opened the door to such experience in my life.

Posing the Living and the Dead

Maybe death is a larger part of my life than most- you see my partner Douglas is a mortician. I often listen to him as he shares with me about his day. How he cared for twin babies who didn’t make it. How he prepared the cremated remains of a Japanese Buddhist for a bone picking ceremony. I listen as he speaks with pride of making the dead look as the living remember them. The constant presence of death in our home informs my views on yoga practice. Yoga not only prepares the practitioner to deal with their own mortality, it helps us integrate the grief of losing those we love.

In some ways, our practice is all about preparing for the moment of passing. In Yoga Mala, Pattabhi Jois writes that ‘yoga signifies the means to the realization of ones true nature.’ Yoga Sutra 1.2 says yogas citti vritti narodaha. This means that when the mind becomes quieter, we are more able to experience the part of ourselves that bares witness, our soul. So in effect, both lay out the purpose of yoga as an experience, in life, of what will be left when the body perishes.

The witnessing presence is very often obstructed by the minds grasping, its attachments and aversions. In a primal sense, the job of a mind is to catalogue content that may be beneficial or harmful for the body. Early in the evolutionary process, the brain of reptiles only contained enough neurons to understand when it should run from danger or when it should relax and eat. Over time, evolution gifted some beings with more and more gray matter and as a result we began to sense our own aliveness. Some of those new neurons got busy imagining our own deaths too. It is at this point that a yoga practice becomes helpful. Fear and morbidity about our own mortality, worry and sadness in anticipation of losing loved ones… these states will rob us of the possibility of contentedness in the present moment.

Through our asana practice, it is possible to cultivate a detached attention to pain. As we move into a posture and pain is there, we pause. We probe into the sensation and feel for its nature. Is it muscular, the sensation of tightness being undone? Or is it something tearing and breaking? We train ourselves respond in calm and measured ways. Grief can also be experienced in this way. Existential anxiety too. We notice how the body and mind are reacting. When thinking becomes obsessive and emotions burdensome, we can pause and move deeper into those feelings. We feel the acute physical tension gripping our necks, the pounding of our heads. We wade into the heaviness, swim into the heartache. Weep.

Yoga Sutra 1.14 says sa tu dirghakala nairantarya satkarasevito drdhabhumih, which Edwin Bryant translates as “Practice becomes firmly established when it has been cultivated uninterruptedly and with devotion over a prolonged period of time.” If the yogis practice is as such, he or she may begin integrating the trauma more easily. Our experience on the mat may instinctively tell us that this is the time to slow our breath. To open our awareness up to the felt experience of pain and suffering, to let it have all the space it needs. To let it pass through unhindered. This is the power of abhyasa (practice), that dedication and devotion will lend our lives stability, so that even when the waters get rough we are able to continue moving forward steadily. Through practice of yoga, we come to better understand that thoughts and bodies are both transient just the same.

Practice and detachment support each other. They provide structure to help us remember that emotions and places and people alike are ephemeral. They shimmer into existence and then they shimmer out. Nothing in this physical universe is eternal. But deep in the heart of our practice is a feeling of oneness that seems clear and endless. In touching this stillness, we may become more comfortable just being with loss and life’s big unanswered questions.

 Loss is inevitable, but our reaction to experience is manageable. We can direct our challenges so that they become fuel for transformation. We are preparing for our own mortality, but being mortal isn’t just accepting our mortality… it’s about experiencing our human-ness in this brief and beautiful time we have. If we approach our life experience with the vairagya (non-attachment) of our practice, then we may begin to work with sorrow and joy just the same, simply as passing phenomena of life. This dispassion allows for holding close and letting go just as easily, potentially leaving us feeling easy, free and at peace.  Resting in this home, we take refuge, even if just for a moment.

 And then our mind goes on madly and beautifully cataloguing content. Romanticizing the past, creating the future. Howling hysterically at loss. Falling madly in love just one more time…

Practices for Mourning

Grief is felt for many reasons, from the loss of a loved one, health issues, the end of a relationship, or passing of a pet. The following practices might help in the journey through mourning.

Be Present with your Wounds   

Instinct and society may tell to you to cover up your feelings, instead try being with them fully. Staying with challenging emotions for 1 to 2 minutes may help them dissipate or become transformative. Come to a quite space and settle into stillness:

1. Ask yourself how you feel

sad, tired, angry, overwhelmed

1. Ask yourself where you feel it

tense neck, pounding head, sore back

1. Breathe with the sensation

take 10 deep rhythmic breaths, inhaling for a count of four and exhaling for a count of 7 to induce a calming effect on the nervous system

Movement is Healing

The following grounding and heart opening sequence might make a good companion to your established practice in times of grief.

1. Sit on your mat in an easy crossed legged or kneeling position. Place the left hand on the ground and the right over the heart. Take several deep breathes feeling for the rise of the chest beneath the hand on the inhale and grounding down through the palm on the floor as you exhale
2. Reach the hand from the heart up towards the ceiling, press the palm into the floor and reach through the fingertips as you look up the fingers above. Hold the stretch for a few breaths, then switch sides and repeat one and 2.
3. Bring the hands behind the back, and interlace fingers. Extend arms fully, lift up through the shoulder joint, then find some side to side movement. Next drop the clasped hands to the mat, pop the chest up and let the head drop back. Take a few deep breath and then draw yourself back up to seated.
4. Make your way to your knees for Ustrasana. Grief can cause the shoulders to fall in and the spine to round. Pressing the palms into the low back, feel for a lifting through the ribcage as you let the hips press forward and the head fall back.
5. Childs pose. Release your hips back
6. From a seated kneeling position take Eagle Arms to relieve tension and stress in neck. Extend both arms in front of you at shoulder height, with palms up. Cross right arm over the left at the elbows and then bend the arms upward. Wrap the forearms around each other and touch the right palm to the left. Lift up through the shoulder joint and look up towards the thumbs. Repeat on Other side.
7. Take a seated twist. Catching the right hand on the left knee and the left hand on the floor behind you. As you inhale, grow taller. As you exhale, twist into that space.
8. Lay down on your back for a bridge pose. Bring the heels close to the glutes and just a little wider than the sit bones. With an inhale lift the hips high. Interlace the hands below you. Press the hands down as you rock side to side to work the shoulders further underneath you. Hold for 5 deep breath.
9. Leave your hands interlaced and gently lower yourself down so that you back and glutes press down into the arms and hands. This will create a stretch across the shoulders and chest. Take several deep breaths. Repeat 8 and 9.
10. Take Rest. Move the body into Sukhasana position. Let your body become still. Observe the movements of your breath.

Meditation

A practice of dominant nostril concentration can help settle a disturbed mind. Every so often the body naturally shifts which nostril is dominant in your breathing pattern. When our emotions become strong and overwhelming, mindfully changing between nostrils can shift perspectives and calm nerves. To begin, sit with the spine upright and let the hands rest in an easy way in the lap. Let the shoulders soften down and back. Bring your awareness towards the tip of the nose and feel for which nostril is more actively moving the air in and out of the body. There’s no rush, take your time to feel for the movement. It could take a minute. Once detected, feel how it’s possible to direct the movement through the opposite side. This change is managed by a subtle movement in nasal cartilage, and again, it could take a little while for the shift to happen. You can practices switching sides a few times, breathing for several minutes per side. After releasing the practice breathe normally and spend a few moments noticing how your mood may have changed.

Chant for Relief

Bring your hands to prayer, close your practice with at least one low resonant ‘om’. You could repeat the mantra up to 50 or even 100 times. Chanting is proven to have a calming, restful effect on the nervous system.

Cut to the FeelIng!

In those classic Hollywood silent films the big climax was always some exciting chase scene. The hero had lost something and a mad dash ensues to get it back. Filmmakers of the time knew that too much dialogue would bore the audience and they would lose interest in the movie. Instead, the director would cut straight to the fun excitement of the chase.

Believe it or not, there is a similar philosophy in Ashtanga Yoga!

The physical postures that we practice, Asana, are not the first or even the second focus of yoga. Classic Yoga texts outline eight principles, of which asana is the third.

Instead of exploring all 8 limbs right away, our Guru, Sri K. Pattabhi Jois guided his students towards a physical practice that would include all the branches in one method. He summed up this philosophy simply, by saying that yoga is 99% practice, 1% theory. He laid out a detailed yoga sequence requiring strength, flexibility and focus, leading to ever-growing self-awareness.

In the west yoga is often synonymous with a physical fitness routine. Given Jois’ ‘99% practice’ suggestion, that might be an understandable conclusion. But what initially could be perceived as a form of exercise, is in fact a spiritual path.

So, ask yourself: In the movie of your life, what have you lost? What are you in pursuit of? Do you wonder why you’re here and what your purpose is? What are you chasing? What do you seek? Do you have big questions?

As a teacher of yoga, I could point you towards ancient writings or challenging seated meditations that could potentially help you find true, personal answers to these questions. But instead, I follow the lead of my own teachers and advise you to start a simple, daily practice of yoga asana. You will discover that all the questions and answers come together there!

So, when in doubt get physical and cut straight to the feeling. Start with what you know – get in your body and get on your mat. See what happens when you come face to face with yourself. Keep showing up every day, for a long time. Practice with the three big Ds: Dedication, Determination and Devotion. Chase that inner life!