My Class Room Experience (1 of x)
06.04.2021
Studio, H. №229
White & Blue house, after the Church
Temple Road (on the street next to Jungle Dance Café)
Arambol, Goa, India
After I finished my Ashtanga Yoga practice, my day started with a fight over hash cookies with D, and a big cup of coffee. We resolved; there were some bad and good exchanges; over the big cup of coffee and with an I love you too.
Soon after I was back in Yogi Art School, where I practice Ashtanga. I am enrolled in a 2-week intensive program with my Ashtanga teacher, Shray. There is only one more student in the course: Cecil, Shray’s latest grey-area-girlfriend. I started practicing Ashtanga with Shray in mid-June last year. I have seen so many versions of him ever since. Today he taught us Asana (Yoga pose) alignment and adjustment for Suryanamaskara A and Suryanamaskara B. There was no new information for me, since Shray has been doing those adjustments on me for more than 9 months.
The experience of doing them on someone else, however, added a lot to my latest thought-vortex, I call it The Yoga Vortex; one from my evasive thought-vortex collection. My non-evasive thought-vortex collection includes spending monsoons in Goa. My border-line-evasive collection includes life with D.
The yoga vortex is less abstract; hence, evasive! The Ashtanga course opens up the opportunity for me to become a Yoga Instructor. I have never thought of myself as a teacher; as far as I can remember atleast (many new memories from deep pasts have been popping up lately)!
Once I assisted Shray in the class; mostly, personal demonstrations of Asanas, with instructions. Soon after the class Ania (from Poland), one of the students, told me, “the future is yours, if you ever want to become a teacher”. She added (my favourite), “you explained something to me in a way that I will always remember”; verbatim. Mic Drop.
Learning to be able to teach is like hopping on a slow moving train with no destination. The massive responsibility that it comes with, of the discipline and of the disciple; the dire requirement of stepping out of the shy-shell; a commitment. I wonder about the moment when I planted the seed that is manifesting now. Water or not-to-water?!
Besides these intermediate thoughts, his sessions are giving me so much to stew over the practice of yoga, a way of life. Today he said, “when you are given a big mess of tangled threads, you don’t pull, you start from one end, un-tie one knot at a time, patiently”. That is how each Asana blossoms over many days, or two.
Latest conflict, for lack of a better word, in my mind is with Shray’s concept that tHE practice of Yoga is a medicine. It implies that we are sick, that we need healing. I tried to draw parallel with other practices of our routines that are just done, without any special intention of healing. Brushing, but it’s to heal teeth. Pooping, it’s to heal tummy. Eating, it’s to heal body. Breathing, it’s to aid life. What other intentions do any or all our daily activities have, if not healing? Is life just a healing process? What? I thought life is a learning process.
Sigh!
I do have to add that I have not felt this classroom enjoyment in a long time. It reminds me of my Maths tuition classes with Mr. Shukla, from 2007–2008.
Rest of my day was filled with the consumption of peanut butter hash cookies, cracker & labane, fruit salad, fruit salad with coconut shreds, fruit salad with coconut shreds & yogurt and another cup of butter coffee. Butter coffee is a special recipe by the current residents of Arambol. It is a combination of Matias’ list of ingredients, and Leah’s advise of blending them together. D did an awesome job of materialising it; over ice. The coffee triggered my lactose allergy though; I can not decide if butter or yogurt is the culprit.
