Opening Your Tear Ducts (crystal)

Last week, I went to a Yoga II class at a studio called 5 Elements. I've been practicing mostly at home, using videos, TV shows, and my limited knowledge, so going to a class was something I'd been wanting. Part of the joy of yoga, to me, is the chance to turn my mind off for awhile. I like to do yoga with my eyes closed as much as possible, and having to watch the video or the TV limits my ability to do this. Going to a class gives me the chance to just follow the words of the instructor, not having to think about what to do next, if I'm doing it correctly, or what I should do during the commercials. The instructor is there to correct me when my form is off and push me to challenge myself.

This studio's instructor is focused on aruveydic medicine, an ancient, Indian health system, which is too complex for me to find a way to explain it in a few words here. There's more info on this on the weblink already posted, so if you're interested, I'd suggest reading more there. We began the class seated on our mats, listening to our instructor discuss her recent experience at a yoga workshop led by her teacher. We leared a sanskrit mantra, which is much like a prayer that's sung. She gave us a sheet of paper containing the words, and we learned by call and response. Once we had practiced, we sang it through three times. The chant was intended to provide a sense of courage and protection, as we were reminded that living an examined and compassionate life devoted to love (as yogis are reminded to try to do) can be lonely and challenging.

After our chant, we moved into asanas (poses). As this was an advanced class, the poses were sometimes difficult. We worked on Sun Salutations, Warrior I, II, and III. We did Extended Side Angle, Revolved Triangle, Inverted Splits, and Half-Moon. As we sweat and our muscles trembled, there was a bit of grumbling, a bit of groaning, and instead of encouraging us to rest if we were tired, our instructor encouraged us to give thanks to the muscles in our legs for continuing to hold us up. "You are stronger than you know," she said. As she moved us into Half-Moon, we grumbled more. She reminded us that we were in a season of transition, moving through spring into summer. "This is the time of year to make changes in your life," she taught. "As you practice, take time to do at least one pose that you hate, that is difficult for you. Then, follow it with your favorite pose, the one that gives you confidence. This is the kind of balance to strive for now. If you love getting massages, get one in the next few weeks -- do something you love. Then, if you fight often with your mother, make sure you work on that, too. Find the balance -- work to strengthen your weakness and tend to your passions."

We finished class with pranayama (focus on breath/breathing) and a nice, long savasana. She offered us a healing essential oil to rejuvinate us and a selection of teas to drink as we ventured home. She offered us recipes for seasonal nourishment which we were to "create, eat, and share with love." I left with my muscles quivering, by my spirit warmed.

When I got home, I felt quiet. Todd was making dinner, so I was helping, putting dishes in the dishwasher, slicing a cucumber, washing the cutting board. "How was practice?" he asked. "I feel kind of strange," I said, some intangible emotion bubbling under the surface. "Are you okay? You look like you're going to cry," he said. And then I did. I started crying without knowing at all why.

It wasn't really a sad crying, nor was it a happy crying. It wasn't an exhaused crying or a hormonal crying. I'm still not sure what it was. When I seached "crying after yoga" online, I found that it's pretty common. Yoga works to connect the mind and the body, so if the mind is hanging on to an emotion that isn't expressed, we theoretically "store" it somewhere in the body. After a rigerous practice, emotions are released as the muscles open.

So often I think of the mind-body connection as being one dominated by the mind. If I'm stressed out, I get sick. If I'm nervous, my stomach gets sick. Rarely have I know it to be the other way around -- if my body opens, my mind does, too. But I saw that connection last week, and I've been trying to keep that knowledge with me. My resistance or dread for ANOTHER day of yoga comes from my body as much as my mind, and the challenge comes from remembering that the two are always connected. It might not sound as surprising or as monumental as it felt, but it was a big breakthrough for me. Thank you yoga and Juliet Trnka (instructor).

Namaste.