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From early April to late May this year the Desikachar family were on tour and due to arrive back in Chennai with just ten days to go before Mekhala’s wedding. In their six weeks away, they visited ten countries and presented the teachings of Krishnamacharya to hundreds of students via seminars, talks, asana and pranayama practices and meditation sessions.
Their visit to Britain was the London Marathon week-end of April 15/16/17th. Organised by and set-up by Lynne-Carole Milich, a student of Kausthub Desikachar, one hundred plus of us met at the Royal College of Obstreticians and Gynaecologists near Regent’s Park in London. The participants came from a range of backgrounds including Iyengar, Astanga, BWY, ‘viniyoga’ and aYs.
Each seminar of the tour had a different theme with ours being “The Yoga of Healing”. All four members of the family, T.K.V. Desikachar, his wife Menaka, their son Kausthub and daughter Mekhala, took part in the presentations with the men primarily leading the theory sessions and the women guiding the practices, chanting and demonstrations. However, there was a lot of involvement by all throughout (and some great examples of family dynamics) and, as is both Desikachar’s and his son’s teaching style, plenty of illuminating, educative and often very entertaining anecdotes to help get over particular points.
Desikachar is such a wonderful speaker. I especially enjoy his way of asking the audience an ostensibly simple question that brings the subject under discussion into immediate sharp focus and continues to challenge the mind long after that moment has passed.
That was how he started this session. He asked us how it was that yoga can heal some people but not others and followed this up by considering the difference between curing and healing. The scene was then set for the next two days and we moved onto reflect on the yoga model of the human system, the panca maya, with special emphasis on the anandamaya which is the level of the heart and the emotions, specifically joy. We can think of this level as the place of relationships. “When there is a good relationship,” Desikachar said, “there is joy. When there is a bad one, there is pain.” A good relationship will support and aid healing; consider how you are and how you feel with a particular doctor, homeopath, therapist............. yoga teacher.
Through Saturday we thought about duhkha (pain, suffering) under its various guises. The pain, for example, brought on by change and the passage of time (your reaction to the discovery of that first grey hair); the strain and difficulty of breaking a habit; the dis-ease of being in the wrong company or (so very prevalent among women it seems) paritapa, that nagging ache of feeling guilty.
Practices relevant to topics discussed were interspersed through all the sessions. Following, for example, the work on duhkha we used Yoga Sutra 2.16 (heyam dukham anagatam, future suffering should be avoided) in asana and completed the practice with the reflection: What is my current duhkha and what am I doing about it?
So how is it possible to lessen duhkha through yoga? How can we heal and be healed? Desikachar emphasised that all people and all situations are different and we must respect and recognise that in our work. We should be realistic and clear about what we can offer, remembering that sat-bhavana, a positive attitude, is an important factor in healing. “Where there is doubt,” said Desikachar, “the harder it is to heal.”
Healing and being healed have the qualities of becoming stronger and happier, of feeling more positive and confident and less fearful. The body feels steady and stable without pain (sthira-sukha) and the breath is long and strong. It is through a good link and chemistry with the teacher and a carefully thought-out approach dealing with one problem at a time that healing can take place. Menaka suggested that visualising the sun, which is a great healer, would give strength and clarity.
Aside from developing a good relationship with the student, the teacher has to consider certain factors in designing the practice. When and where will the student practice? How much time can they give to it? How does their lifestyle and job affect them? What is their age and ability? Very importantly too, the teacher should respect and honour the student’s wishes. The practice must be both enjoyable for them as well as beneficial and the asana, pranayama and meditation should be appropriate and tailored to the individual’s need and situation.
All in all it was a really enjoyable weekend. There were many wise words on which to reflect and Desikachar’s searching questions to attempt to answer. I loved seeing the family working together; I loved witnessing their dynamics and interactions. It was a rare treat to be guided through practices and a treat, too, to be among friends and like-minded souls.
I travelled back from London to South Wales on a train packed with Marathon runners and their families. At Newport I changed to the Hereford train; this one was solid with Man. U. football supporters (and police) returning home from their match in Cardiff. Mmmm, I thought. Human beings are remarkably and impressively different in their physical, mental, personal and emotional make-up. It isn’t just in the context of yoga therapy that, as Desikachar succinctly put it, one shoe doesn’t suit all.
Jenny Bullough
A friend of mine once said that during a yoga class, the teacher said “You're doing your postures as if you don't care!” On the one hand, the teacher made a good point: take care! However my friend decided not to return to this teacher, as the teacher's tone was not helpful and put him off.
I've been considering the nature of taking care of one's practice, of the teachings, of the dharma. To take care is to allow something to grow and flourish. It is to provide the right soil, water and nutrients to a plant. When we are given practices and teachings by our teachers, the best way of honouring the teacher is to plant the practice and teachings well into our lives - to take care. I remember long ago Paul used this metaphor - he said that the practice he was giving me was like a cutting from the “tree” that he had grown - it was up to me to grow my own “tree” from the cutting - and pass on cuttings to others. How they grow may be different in different settings. The “tree” doesn't belong to anybody - we are merely guardians for awhile, we pass on what we can.
In the Yoga Sutras, a metaphor is used of a lump of clay, a wheel and a potter. There is raw material; there is a tool, there is an intelligence which fashions the raw material. Who or what is the teacher? One way of considering this is that the raw material is us - the student with all our undeveloped “stuff” and potential. The wheel is the practice, but it's also the teacher and the teachings. The potter is our innate intelligence - it is that which will help us - and the teacher is there to develop and manifest that innate intelligence. The function of the external teacher is to bring us to our internal teacher.
But the practice and teachings we have received are no good unless they are applied to the goal of yoga: freedom. For me, freedom is a sense of space opening - it is the development of sukha, good space. Where there is restriction, tightness, fear - that is a development of duhkha - restricted space.
A teacher is there to facilitate our growth and our experience of freedom. But a teacher is also there to keep us in check, to challenge us, not to support our neuroses. Sometimes this may be experienced as anything but sukha. It strikes me that the key here is sraddha, faith. Do we have faith in our teacher? If we do, even challenges and provocation from our teacher can be perceived as helpful, because they are helping us move towards open space and empowerment. If we do not have faith, our teacher's actions can be perceived as bringing duhkha, of disempowering.
Faith in the external teacher brings us to the internal teacher. Practice strengthens our faith and resolution. Therefore, we should take care of our practice and consider very carefully our relationship with our teacher. Is it helpful? Is there faith? Are we moving towards freedom? Practice is precious; let the turning of the potter's wheel (the practice and the external teacher) bring us to our own innate wisdom; the vast impersonal spaciousness called cit, our internal teacher.
Ranju Roy
April 2005
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Asthma currently affects over five million people in the UK, (one in twelve adults and one in eight children) and the incidence is rising.
It is a chronic condition, affecting the smaller airways (bronchioles) of the lungs. These passages are persistently inflamed, and over-sensitive to irritant stimuli, causing them to narrow. When this occurs, sufferers experience wheezing, coughing, chest tightness and shortness of breath. In children sometimes the only indication will be an irritating cough at night. The symptoms come and go, and initially are reversible with treatment. In chronic cases, lung function between attacks may decline.
During attacks, smooth muscle in the walls of the airways contracts. While there is always some degree of inflammation in the airway lining, in an attack, this becomes more marked, and mucus production increases. The net result is that the airway is narrowed, restricting the passage of air.
The root cause of asthma is not known, and is attributed to genetic factors, interacting with environmental influences. Certainly, it is well recognized that “atopy” – i.e. sensitivity to common substances (antigens) in the environment – tends to run in families, with relatives having a higher incidence of asthma, eczema, hay fever and food allergies than the general public. The rising incidence may be related to changes in our diet and indoor environment, and exposure to particular antigens. Other factors include environmental pollutants. Cigarette smoke is obviously an irritant, and mothers who smoke in pregnancy are more likely to bear children who suffer from asthma and eczema. It is also possible that, as children nowadays are not exposed to as many infections as they were in the past, their immune systems are in some ways defective and at times over-react.
There are many factors which may trigger an asthma attack; different people have different sensitivities. Viral upper respiratory tract infections are a common cause. Exposure to a dusty environment, which inevitably contains the house dust mite, and possibly hair from pets, is a potent trigger. Other factors include exercise, sudden exposure to cold air, cigarette smoke and other environmental pollutants, as well as pollen. Strong emotions may also cause the airways to constrict. In addition, some drugs, particularly beta-blockers and also aspirin and ibuprofen can start an attack.
The mainstay of conventional medical treatment is with drugs, though alongside any medication that may be prescribed, it is important to minimize any factors which exacerbate the condition. This obviously includes giving up smoking, and avoiding passive inhalation. It is not possible to achieve a totally dust free house (!), but with a lot of hard work it is certainly possible to improve the situation. This may involve getting rid of carpets and soft furnishings, encasing mattresses and pillows in plastic covers, and possibly finding the cat another home.
Drug treatment is on two fronts. Firstly, “preventers”, which reduce the chance of having an attack, and secondly, “relievers”, which treat an attack if it occurs. Where possible, drugs are given by inhalation, allowing the maximum amount to be delivered to the lungs, but as little as possible to the rest of the body, thus minimizing side effects.
Low dose inhaled steroids (often the “brown” inhaler) are the most common drugs used for prevention, and should be used regularly. They act by reducing inflammation and mucus production, and lowering the airway’s sensitivity. The dose is so low that the side effects encountered with oral steroids are rarely a problem. However, these drugs may cause hoarseness and oral thrush.
In an acute attack, or before exercise, which might precipitate an attack, drugs such as inhaled salbutamol (often the “blue” inhaler) are used. These work by relaxing smooth muscle in the airways. The most common side effects of these sorts of drugs are a fine tremor and palpitations for a short time after they are used.
Where adequate control is not achieved, longer-acting drugs related to salbutamol can be given, and also a class of drugs known as the leukotriene receptor agonists which act to dampen down the inflammatory mechanism in the lungs. Higher dose inhaled steroids are sometimes needed, and for very severe asthma, oral steroids may have to be given regularly.
Asthma sufferers are recommended to have flu “jabs” when these are available, as the asthma renders their lungs more susceptible to the serious complication of flu, such as pneumonia.
Yoga is an extremely useful adjunct to conventional therapy. Sufferers find that working to achieve better chest expansion, particularly by doing backbends, and to extend all aspects of the breath, particularly the exhale, can decrease their need for medication. Furthermore, by learning to reduce anxiety levels, it is possible to minimise the vicious cycle which often develops during an attack, whereby panic at being unable to breath makes breathing even harder.
Miranda Bevis
Past Krishnamacarya, captured in black and white,
our teacher for the morning glides in bright colours;
inhale, says Geetha, and the crows laugh
at my ineptitude to remember repetitions.
Fire-bright, like the clay that clings to my feet,
longing for further learning, supports me to face
the strong rain of knowledge, if only
I could stay fresh as the offered flowers.
Remembered with a dancing garland,
Krishnamacarya's steady gaze reminds me to forget
distraction, and attend to the quiet humour
of Sridharan explaining a sutra of Patanjali.
While Chandrasekar checks our spines,
by glancing gently, Krishnamacarya's hands,
like a butterfly, look ready to alight
and correct our inner misalginments.
Breathing through the right nostril, I try
to defy jet lag; a rickshaw's hoot
opens my eyes to Saraswathi,
drawing nadis as Krishnamacarya smiles at her.
The myhnas whoop to see my fidgeting,
in Padmini's meditation on Krishnamacarya,
yet they remind me of the two birds
in the Maitri Upanishad, one the suffering self.
Chanting brings colour, to Krishnamacarya
and to our faces, though tongues struggle,
warm hearts and voices dispel damp and chill,
as Radha makes us repeat again.
As Desikachar recalls a story,
heard at the feet of his father,
his voice becomes part of the experience,
the stillness and steadiness of intention.
Michael Hutchinson
When we arrived at convention, we found the following messages from Ranju in our Welcome Pack.
Honouring the Past, Opening to the Future, Staying Present
The opening word of the Yoga Sutras – atha (“now”) – is an important wake up call, and a condensed teaching in itself. In the second sutra, Patanjali defines yoga as nirodha (containment, stilling) of the activities of the mind. When our minds are not still, when memories and imagination cloud our perception, we “spin out” from the present moment and find ourselves in dream world we have created. So many teachers, from the Buddha and Patanjali to Eckhart Tolle have restated this in different ways.
Staying present is the goal of yoga. When we are present, we can open to the future. I see “opening to the future” as simply being in harmony with the present and allowing what we experience to be as it is. The future will arise and we will either flow with it or resist it. If we resist it, or deny it (“this isn't how life was supposed to be!”) we will be in a state of suffering that we have compounded.
Being present does not mean denying or ignoring the past. There is no single absolute truth about the past, there are always so many versions of “the past”, and all may have a relative truth. The view will be coloured by the position of the viewer. We can acknowledge subjectivity, and not hold too firmly to any ultimate view of the past. Cos there ain't one!…
What will the future hold?
There is a great story from South India that I sometimes think about. One day a guru foresaw in a flash what he would be in his next life. So he called over his favourite disciple and asked him what he would do for his guru in return for all that he had received. The disciple said that he would do anything – anything his guru wanted he would do.
Having received the promise, the guru said, “Then this is what I'd like you to do for me. I've just learned that when I die, which will be very soon, I'm going to be reborn as a pig. This is not good. You see that sow over there eating rubbish from the gutter? Well, I'm going to he reborn as the fourth piglet in her next litter. You'll definitely recognize me! I’ll have a mark on my brow. When the sow has given birth, I want you to find this piglet with a mark on its brow, and with a single stroke of your blade kill it. Then I'll be released from my life as a pig. Please, will you do this one thing for me?”
The shocked disciple was sad to hear all this, but agreed that he would fulfil his guru's request. Soon after the conversation, the guru did die. And the sow did indeed have a litter of four little piglets. One day, the disciple sharpened his knife and picked out the fourth little pig, which he recognised by the mark on his brow. Just as he was about to bring down the knife and slit the piglet's throat, the little pig suddenly spoke. “Stop! Don't kill me!” it screamed.
Before the disciple could recover from the shock of hearing a pig talk with a human voice, it said, “Don't kill me. I want to live as a pig. When I asked you to kill me, I had no idea of what a pig's life would be like. But it's great! I love being a pig. Now please let me go.”
One of the beauties of stories – and what makes them potent – is that they offer many meanings and interpretations for our unconscious minds to mull over and make sense of. Like five loaves and some fish, a simple story can feed a lot of people. There are so many ways of understanding this story. A simple one is that we just don't know what something will be like until we're there – we judge the future on the basis of what we have learned from our past.
Opening to the future requires staying present and truly being here. Sometimes our doubts and fear can obscure our ability to face what is coming. Can we transform the doubts and heaviness that we sometimes feel into a willingness to open towards something new? Can we transform our tamasic resistance to sattvic faith – a faith that is genuinely open – not blind. Doubts and resistance can help us by making us cautious, but hinder us by closing us down. Faith can give us energy and enthusiasm, but it can also close our eyes to anything else. Let us cultivate a “clear doubt” – one that acknowledges we do not know what is to come, yet allows us to move forward and explore with an open heart.
The Event
We had our best turnout so far for Convention, with about 130 people attending, and a teaching team of 13 (several teachers appearing in that role for the first time). The range and depth of workshops offered, from Samkhya Philosophy via Yoga for Back Care and Vedic Chanting to Sun Salutation, is a tribute to the talent of our teachers, and the strength of the tradition to which they belong. Our guest of honour was Martyn Neal, a student of Desikachar, co-author with Desikachar of What are we Seeking? and a recently qualified Mentor of the KHYF. He taught workshops on Vedic Chanting, and also conducted plenary sessions on the themes of Convention: honouring the past, opening to the future, and staying present. He pointed out that we can do nothing to change the past and we can know nothing about the future; the important thing therefore is to make the best effort we can in the present, so that we were well prepared for what the future will bring. On Saturday evening there was a concert of South Indian music, played and sung by Tim Jones, with the assistance of Jon Sterckx on the tabla – and allowing for lots of audience participation.
First Impressions
“With a mixture of both excitement and apprehension we arrived at our first Yoga Convention. We were just so lucky to have had the encouragement of our teacher Mary Ellen from the beginning, and to make the journey from Dublin with Mary Ellen and Anne. Our first impression on arrival was the friendly open atmosphere which continued throughout the weekend. From Day One we had a dilemma – which workshops to attend. Looking back there was no dilemma as we got a taste of everything – theory, practice, chanting, Indian Raga singing, and the wonderful sessions with Martyn Neal. Our journey so far has taken us to our first convention, and we are open to whatever the future holds.”
Noirin Campion and Mary Donohoe
Other Comments
There were several points of criticism, such as lack of ventilation in teaching rooms and lack of vegetarian options and long queues at mealtimes which we are taking on board for next time, but it was heartening also to receive such positive encouragement as the following selection:
- I really enjoyed all aspects of the weekend – the sense of sanga was inspiring – Martyn was fantastic, great to see so much of him.
- Wonderful theme – very enjoyable – great fun – good learning. A good first experience of Convention!
- A wonderfully rich and inspiring mix of teaching and experiences.
- Sorry – don’t mean to be sycophantic but it was all excellent.
- Really enjoyable – thank you. Lots to think about & a refreshing change from my normal life & responsibility.
- Very well organised, the central theme beautifully threaded and deepened through it all. Thank you so much.
- It met and exceeded my expectations. Thank you.
- What great Sanga. Thank you.
- Thanks to all teachers & organisers for convening us and for the thoughtful heartfelt teaching. This was a healing time.
Special Meeting of aYs Members
The meeting was chaired by Ranju Roy, Director of aYs, who invited Margo von Romberg to join him at the front of the meeting, and we began with a chant of “gananam”, led by Chris Preist. The number attending the meeting was not recorded but is estimated to be between 40-50 members (membership currently stands at 97).
Ranju had received 20 responses to his letter about the future of aYs, all positive, and clearly wishing the association to continue. Discussion took the points of his letter in turn.
1. KYM/KHYF
It was generally agreed that the link with KYM was important, but that the continuation of aYs was also important. Ranju reminded us that anyone can study at the KYM, which is not the same as KHYF.
In order to become a registered teacher with KHYF, you need a mentor who is recognised by KHYF. At present there are three such mentors in the UK – Gill Lloyd, Sarah Ryan and Andy Curtis Payne – who qualified recently after undergoing assessment in Chennai. These three can nominate teachers for recognition by KHYF. However since Paul Harvey was not invited to Chennai for assessment, it appears that aYs/Viniyoga Britain qualifications do not meet the criteria for registration with KHYF. It is Ranju’s understanding that KHYF envisages the dissolution of local organisations, with their members joining KHYF instead.
Margo said she felt that many details of KHYF were still being thought through. For example, the details of the KHYF training course are still not available on the KHYF website, nor is there any information about the Accredited Prior Learning process which was mentioned in the document issued earlier in the year.
Is it possible to be a member of both organisations? Ranju said that from the aYs point of view there is no problem, but in the past Kausthub has said that people had to make a choice. From what Martyn Neal said, it should be possible to be a member of both organisations: he is now a mentor/teacher trainer with KHYF, but remains a member of his French Yoga Association.
What exactly is a mentor? A mentor gives practices to a student, and provides support and supervision through training. The mentor does not have to be identical with the student’s teacher, but there is possibly some potential for confusion if the student is working both with a mentor and a previous teacher.
2. Future of aYs
A vote was taken by show of hands on whether the association should continue. All those present, with one exception, voted in favour of continuing.
Ranju had already announced his intention to stand down. Margo had indicated her willingness to take his place, if this was the democratic wish of the association. Before a vote was taken, she was asked if she was considering becoming a member of KHYF. She replied that she thought it would be a good idea to try, at least to see if it would be possible. She hoped that she could make some link with KYM/KHYF in October, as she had booked a place on the KYM “Pilgrimage of Sound” chanting course. She would do what she could to represent the wishes of aYs while she was in India. Margo was duly elected to replace Ranju, and suggested the title of Convener instead of Director. This was agreed.
There was some further discussion of the nature of the relationship between aYs and KHYF. It was agreed that we need to keep asking for clarity. We are after all part of the community that teaches in the tradition derived from Krishnamacharya, but our precise place in that community is unclear at present.
3. IST and Training Courses
It was agreed that we should continue to provide IST specifically for our members, rather than rely on BWY IST days provided by aYs teachers. There is at present some confusion over ISTs, as there are no proper criteria about what constitutes a recognised IST, and this needs to be sorted out. We need to establish a pool of teachers willing and able to teach IST days.
The current PP11 will be the last specifically named aYs training course, as Paul will then be teaching his training course (and also his Foundation Course) under the title of Process Yoga. The Sadhana Mala course taught by Ranju and Dave Charlton is to receive BWY accreditation, but is not an aYs course. This means that we must start to redesign courses from scratch. It was agreed that we need to establish criteria for quality control, to maintain the high standards that aYs courses have had in the past. Various possibilities were aired. Margo said that Paul Riddy was willing to remain on the new committee with the specific remit of course development, but would need the help of experienced teachers to take this matter forward.
4. Reorganisation of aYs
As Margo had indicated in her recent letter to members, she was willing to be elected for one year, with the remit of reorganising the structure of aYs. As a minimum, the committee would consist of herself, Paul Riddy, Andrew Davies as treasurer, and Chris Preist as Minister for Kicking Fundaments (not his word). Administration was to be restructured, but Jane Harris was willing to continue as Convention/Special Events Organiser. Other points made:
- An effort should be made to make it more possible for Friends to feel they had a part to play in the organisation.
- The website is to be redesigned.
- Much committee work can be done by email or teleconferencing, but at least one meeting per year (perhaps at Yoganjali) is essential.
- We need offers of help from both Members and Friends to ensure the develeopment of a strongly democratic organisation.
- We have received a strong transmission of teaching through Paul, we have a sanga of talented teachers, we have the strength of regular practice and a 1 to1 relationship with our teachers: we can continue.
The meeting closed at 3.45.
These words are still a bit of a taboo and to think that one might attend a week-end or a week long retreat on this subject may not at first sound appealing. And yet the majority of yoga students are women and middle-aged, which does make menopause a relevant topic for a workshop. But why should we associate menopause with puberty? Both are periods of transition, which mark the beginning and the end of the fertile years for a woman. You may argue that males go through puberty as well. Indeed, there is something comparable in the changes boys and girls undergo in their bodies and minds. The parallels stop, however, at middle age. Male hormone production doesn't plummet around the age of fifty, but goes on decreasing gradually into old age. What is commonly called “mid-life crisis” is not triggered by hormones.
We will then consider puberty and menopause as hormonally caused phenomena specifically affecting women and related to fertility and the ability to bear a child.
Physiologically, as well psychologically, a girl isn't ready to conceive, nor can an older woman give birth anymore. In a woman's life, there is normally a time before and a time after the childbearing years. Only a few generations ago things were different. Life expectancy was much lower and women frequently died prematurely from exhaustion after an endless succession of pregnancies. In puberty a girl transforms into a woman who can assume the rewarding but demanding task of bearing life. It takes time and much physical, mental and emotional upheaval for this potential to mature. Instead, menopause is the time when a woman is taking leave from fertility, pregnancy and childbirth. Depending on how fulfilling her life has been in that respect, it may be a heartbreaking time or one which brings relief. In any case, menopause will cause a transformation of body and mind similar – though opposite in nature – to the one that had happened roughly thirty-five years before with puberty. And again, it will take time for a mature woman to adjust to her new self.
The fertility potential that unfolds with puberty withdraws with menopause. The first and last bleeding in a woman's life – called menarche and menopause – are visible signs of change. However the whole maturation process lasts some seven years on average, and stretches several years either side of these landmarks. We can shed light on menopause by reflecting on what happens during puberty. Many middle-aged women find opportunities to do so if they have teenage daughters, relatives or friends. They can also re-visit their own teens.
Strong and contradictory emotions, for instance of loss and fear, are commonly experienced during these times of transition. There is the loss of the innocence of childhood and the fear of adulthood during puberty and the loss of the ability to conceive a child and fear of old age and rejection during menopause. Mood swings with sudden outbursts of tears occur, as do irritability, tantrums, depression and melancholy, etc. The only certainty remaining is that nothing will ever be the same. Familiar landmarks and reference points have vanished or become obsolete; one treads on wobbly ground. And there is that irrepressible need to be left on one's own!
There are also major differences between puberty (which is like the glory of bloom) and menopause (the time of the ripe fruit). The promise of the fruit is present in the blooming flower and the fruit contains the promise of the seed. In youth, beauty is more external and has the immediate appeal of the budding flower. In maturity, beauty becomes internal, the appeal subtle, to be tasted like a ripe fruit. An adolescent girl will spend much time exploring the ever changing worlds around and inside her, full of the exuberant energy of youth. Her fertility usually remains a mystery to her. Instead, menopausal woman will find their own pace in slowing down, reflecting and discovering new ways of expressing creativity.
Puberty and menopause are often difficult periods in a woman's life. They are rites of passage touching on the mystery of life and death. The beginning of something is inevitably the end of something else. These are awe-inspiring times which change one's perspectives on life. Change always causes suffering and unpleasant and sometimes debilitating symptoms may affect our mental and physical well-being. Yoga has a lot to offer to support young and older women on their journey and help them to come to terms with change and turmoil.
I have been running workshops on “puberty and menopause” in several countries over the past few years. There are subtle differences in the way different European cultures approach puberty and menopause and the taboos associated with talking about it don't always express in the same way. However most women, teenagers included, welcome the chance to reflect on the changes and difficulties they are going through in a sensitively planned yoga workshop. Puberty and menopause are natural stages in the life of a woman after all, aren't they?
Sylviane Gianina
Sylviane Gianina is a student of Claude Maréchal, himself a student of TKV Desikachar's for over thirty years. Sylviane is Swiss and lives in London. She teaches one-to-one and runs workshops in the UK and in several European countries. She is a yoga teacher trainer for the international school ETY (Etude et Transmission du Yoga).
Whether you are a teacher or student effective communication is vital. However, some types of knowledge defy formal modes of teaching or learning. This knowledge can only be gained through direct illumination and the most a teacher or mentor can do is to guide the student by suggesting a likely direction for their enquiry.
So, what sort of knowledge are we talking about here?
We are not speaking of facts, logical reasoning or general knowledge. That is the province of manas, the thinking mind. However vital this day-to-day mode of thinking may be, it is unsuitable for the exploration of life’s bigger questions:
“The ability to understand the object is simply replaced by the minds conception of that object or by a total lack of comprehension.”
Yoga Sutras,1:4
“They seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand.”
Matthew 13:13
The bigger questions of life are the existential ones: Where do I come from? What keeps me alive? Where do I go when I die? These questions require a different level of understanding. At the level of manas answers to these questions are readily offered by religion and popular psychology. In fact the market place offers innumerable solutions. However, to really understand, to gain real insight into what is essentially the mystical and ineffable requires us to experience the truth directly from within.
“Inner work, or yoga in its many forms, is not a peculiarity of the East, but the taproot, as it were, of all authentic religions. It has been called ‘the applied psychology of religion’, and it must be said that religion without applied psychology is completely worthless. ‘Simply to believe a religion to be true, and to give intellectual assent to its creed and dogmatic theology, and not to know it to be true through having tested it by the scientific methods of yoga, results in the blind leading the blind.’”
E.F Schumacher, A Guide for the Perplexed
In a moment I want you to stop, close your eyes, relax and then find and open your “Belief” folder. You may find many or few files available to you. What are the titles of these files; Religion A-Z? Philosophy, Meaning of Life? Just take time to notice what you know intellectually about these things….
Do you use these intellectual ideas as a template for your life? Are they a frame about which you attempt to order and understand life? Does this information give your life meaning? What happens when life refuses to conform to this template?
We know that it’s painful when life goes pear-shaped, but however unpredictable our life circumstances, our responses to them are probably very predictable and it is these moments that provide us with the opportunity to notice our default position. Our default position may be the assertion that “it’s not fair,” running away (both personal favourites), anger, bitterness, disbelief or loss of faith. Do any of these seem familiar?
Now, I would like you to look again but this time with more than just your intellectual eye. This time I would like you to feel your way from within, let your self be guided by the innermost sense of what is true for you. Could this feeling, this awareness be faith or sraddha? Could it be that it is faith that fundamentally shapes out life even if that same faith is largely unacknowledged. For many of us in the west the word “faith” may have negative associations but I am not referring to blind faith but passionate faith, remembering that passion comes from the Latin passio meaning “suffering”. For faith implies surrender to something real, and surrender is painful.
So, do you have heart enough for faith? For it’s certainly not a rational thing. Faith need not imply a God as such; I would define it as a deep rooted belief or a sense of that which sustains you from within, it is “something understood.” Faith could be said to be the recognition of your deepest unchanging resource. This is the point at which prose begins to limit us, but I feel that this phrase “something understood” is one that resonates a truth and this truth is understood in the heart, that is heartfelt.
Artists, musicians and poets have always had the ability to startle us with an incomprehensible moment of understanding — incomprehensible precisely because we are not understanding with the intellect. In fact the moment we try to deconstruct such an experience, the connection is broken. Whatever its medium, an effective artwork cuts through the thinking mind to a deeper level of comprehension and knowledge that already exists within us. How is it that art has the ability to do this?
“The unsung and the unspoken are in all our hearts,
So poets and musicians are God’s spokesmen, linking
form and feeling.”
Rabindranath Tagore (?)
Let’s use poetry as an example. Poetry cannot with words alone describe the indescribable but it can have the right shape and vibration so that it resonates with the person who is in that moment open enough to receive it.
The recent advertisements for Honda talk convincingly about the power of dreams, but actually what are dreams but feelings and desires given life in the mind through the vehicle of language? Words are powerful things; “mantra” is defined as a spell or word of power and in the Jewish faith one of the names for God is Ha-Shem meaning “the Name” and in this sense a name denotes “the nature and essence of the thing named.”( With thanks to the website “Judaism 101”) The Christian New Testament suggests the same thing:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
John 1:1
Name and form are difficult to divide, despite what Shakespeare has to say on the matter, and words must therefore be used with great care. Because the language we use leaves us clues about our psychology a spiritual discipline should be one that encourages you to notice the words inside, the words with which you think about yourself, the world and your beliefs.
A moment of illumination, a “light-on” moment, occurs when the thinking mind is momentarily taken out of the equation and the inner narration ceases, and we re-member. I would contend that in these moments there is a moment of re-cognition that is accompanied by an “Oh! Yes of course!” This is the realisation that our insight is correct precisely because we are re-collecting something we have always known. For most of us these moments are fleeting and infrequent.
“Then the ability to understand the object fully and correctly is apparent.”
Yoga Sutras1.3
Sustained practice (see Yoga Sutra1:12 - 13) allows us to create space within the thinking mind so that there is greater opportunity for such moments of clarity.
“Applied science in the sense understood in yoga means a science that finds its material for study not in the appearances of other beings, but in the inner world of the scientist himself. This inner world, of course, is not worth studying – and nothing can be learned from it – if it is in impenetrable chaos. While the methods of Western science can be applied by anyone who has learned them, the scientific methods of yoga can be effectively applied only by those prepared first of all to put their own house in order through discipline and systematic inner work.”
E.F Schumacher, A Guide for the Perplexed
“ In a state of Yoga comprehension is different from comprehension at other times. It is closer to the true nature of the object.”
Yoga Sutras1:7, TKV Desikachar’s Commentary
I am not saying that the intellect has no place in a spiritual practice; on the contrary, it is a gift that should be used to the full. Jnana Yoga is a path in which the intellect is used as a tool for realisation but also accepts that at some point the mind is to be transcended.
“making fools understand
(like wintry me) that not
all matterings of mind
equal one violet”
ee cummings, Selected Poems 1923-1958, p.105
So, if these big questions cannot be resolved in the mind where should we be looking? According to both eastern and western thought, what Leibniz termed “the Perennial Philosophy” the seat of wisdom has always been located in the heart.
“Lest at any time…they should understand with their heart.”
Matthew 13
“Not through discourse, not through the intellect
Not even through study of the scriptures
Can the Self be realized. The Self reveals
Himself to the one who longs for the Self.
Those who long for the Self with all their heart
Are chosen by the Self as his own.”
Mundaka Upanishad, Part III 2:3,
Eknath Easwaran, The Upanishads, p. 117
Vivekananda talks about human development not in terms of evolution but as one of “involution”. Involution suggests that we can only grow into what lies within and that we possess some kind of spiritual blue print. If this is so then the applied psychology of yoga has the potential to bring us closer to what is our real or eternal nature and in this context I use the word “real” to denote that which is not subject to change.
The spur to spiritual discipline is pain and the knowledge we acquire through this discipline allows us to grow. Growth implies change and this process of involution can only occur when we let go of something we have been holding on to. We have to allow some part of us to die. If Vivekananda is correct then this process of surrender, involution and re-growth is as inevitable as it is painful.
Jane Harris
With grateful thanks to Sarah Ryan for her patience and assistance with questions of grammar.
Quotations from the Yoga Sutras are from Desikachar’s translation.
Rudyard Kipling famously proclaimed “East is East and West is West and ne’er the twain shall meet.” My brother, sister and I, along with countless others, are testament to Kipling’s fallacy. They have met and continue to meet – with varying results! The exoticism and mystery of the other can be a tremendously powerful romantic pull; but at different times each side can be left blank with incomprehension at the other’s behaviour. A German friend of mine who lived in India for many years described how his desire for space and solitude was misunderstood by his Indian companions who thought that being by oneself was a sad sign – a lonely friendless man in a foreign culture. At times, he confessed, he could have screamed that he just wanted to be alone, and it was not because he was a hopeless social outcast!
The perceptions and misconceptions that arise when two cultures meet are important to address, lest we fall into mutual incomprehension and its attendant potential for mutual recrimination. I have written this article as someone who cares strongly about yoga, and how yoga has the potential to develop in a contemporary western culture. My intention is neither to preach nor to argue for a particular point, but rather to raise some important issues for consideration – to encourage open and honest exploration entered into in good faith.
The world my children are growing up in is very different from that in which I did. Our cultural values are far less certain now than they were then. Although it is only 30 years since I was their ages, the world has morphed at a dramatic rate. In the first 20 minutes of consciousness today, I heard about bombs in Bagdad, murder enquiries in Sussex, an escaped panda in Birmingham and more. The sobering thing here is that I was more conscious of a virtual world delivered over the airwaves than I was of my kitchen and dining room in Taunton.
Although listening to the radio at breakfast was also quite possible 30 years ago, now we can simply go to the computer and download more information on any of these and a million other stories. Or we could watch endless soaps, films, sport on satellite or cable TV. The digital revolution has meant that our virtual worlds have become more and more substantial, often at the expense of our actual day to day experience. This is part, I think, of a postmodern experience.
Historians tend to date “the Modern era” as beginning at the end of the Medieval period, flourishing with the great developments of the Enlightenment in the 18th Century. Part of the modernist philosophy is that mankind is the pinnacle of evolution and that as we understand more of the universe we are slowly moving towards unravelling the secrets of nature herself. Thus the modernist philosophies of Freud, Darwin and Marx came to fruition during the 19th century – each explaining vast areas of experience – the Grand Theories. These great rationalist endeavours attempted to reveal the underlying mechanisms of life, the universe and everything…
The eclectic sets of ideas that have come to be known as “postmodern” and which have permeated our lives since the 1970s are bent on undermining the certainties of a modernist perspective. The validity of “metanarratives” – big, all-encompassing “stories” like religion, science, communism, which helped us to understand everything – has been questioned. There has also been a heightened awareness of the extent to which meaning and our very identity is constructed, dependent on many other factors. How we understand and see the world, indeed who we are, is dependent on where we are, who we’re with, the stories we tell ourselves and have been told.
This makes reality rather “slippery”. Are we really moving towards a greater understanding? How real is real? Reality TV? Who judges what truth is? What is beauty? Can we be certain about morality? About art? Taste? What is authentic? Bob Dylan once said:
"What’s good is bad
What’s bad is good
You find out when you reach the top
You’re on the bottom."
Idiot Wind, 1974
We have more choice than ever before (just check out the supermarkets), we have more accessible information (much of it spurious), we have a cultural relativism, we have fame for 15 minutes (as Andy Warhol predicted), and we have leaders we don’t trust. If modernism casts aspersions on the omniscience and authority of a long-haired old white man called God, then postmodernism has asked us to question everything. And the result? We have: UNCERTAINTY.
For many, Fundamentalist religion offers an antidote to the perceived decadence of late Capitalist western culture; but it also offers something else. Fundamentalism – whether it’s Christian, Islamic, Hindu, Scientific or even Yogic (!) – offers certainty and certainty can give peace of mind, stability, self-assurance. In the Yoga Sutras (see YS1.20), Patanjali notes that faith (sraddha) gives rise to strength and enthusiasm (virya) – and certainly the zealot will often have tremendous energy. It strikes me therefore that a profound level of uncertainty – “postmodern angst” – is part of our culture and the rush to embrace ideologies and faiths is an attempt at fending off the discomfort of not knowing. Belief in something is a raft in a sea of shifting values.
Another important characteristic of our time is a shift in power relations. We have moved from being a society of production to a society of consumption – and consumer rights is now a huge issue. The client, the student, the patient and the child now all have voices that they would not have done a generation ago. They also have choice – and in the world of yoga, students can easily find another class or teacher because there are so many around.
This “flattening of hierarchy” can be seen in contemporary debates and practices of therapy, an area in which I worked for many years. There has been a move away from the therapist as the “all knowing expert” to the therapist being more of a collaborator with the client. The client is now seen as the expert on their lives, the therapist’s job is to help tease out the client’s strengths and resources, to help to “author” an alternative “story” by which the client can live. I think this shift has profound implications for yoga too.
The viniyoga of yoga is the appropriate application of the tools of yoga to the time, place, age and culture of the practitioner. Of course, certain aspects of the human experience are timeless – Patanjali referred to the afflictions (klesas) of misunderstanding (avidya), pride (asmita), desire (raga), aversion (dvesa), fear (abhinivesa). The mysteries of birth, aging, sickness and death are here and now just as they were at the time of Patanjali and the time of Buddha. But are there some things specific to our times that were less relevant when these teachings were first explored? Are there cultural differences which necessitate a different teaching style, a different emphasis?
How the student-teacher-lineage question is played out is, I believe, one important area that highlights these cultural differences. On the one hand it is easy to cling to tradition as a support in these uncertain times – sometimes this may be helpful and sometimes it may not.
On the other hand, in this era of flattened hierarchies and suspicion of authority it is also easy to be dismissive – to trust nobody or nothing. In an age of fallen idols, we could easily throw out the proverbial baby with the bath water and find ourselves in the murky world of nihilism, or meaningless relativism where anything goes. Patanjali suggests that doubt (samsaya) is one of the great obstacles to progress (YS 1.30).
I passionately believe that this is the one of the most challenging areas for us to consider as practitioners, teachers and students of yoga in our culture. Can we make a genuine Western yoga? A yoga that acknowledges the world we inhabit whilst remaining…tricky word here…authentic.
I am fully aware of the dangers of eclecticism in yoga, of doing a bit of this and a bit of that and basically making it up as we go along. This can easily lead to a loss of direction and a loss of discrimination. The magpie scenario of postmodernism questions authenticity and revels in pastiche, mixing diverse elements to create something new (chicken tikka masala is a famous culinary example). So in yoga we have yogalates (mixing yoga and Pilates), doga (yoga for dogs!), smoga (yoga for smokers) and countless other weird and wonderful hybrids. We could say this is simply an example of commercial opportunism, but I think it is also very much part of our times – and some of it might be successful, some less so.
Desikachar has been a hugely skilful interpreter of his father’s teachings for a modern Western audience. Although a great moderniser and innovator, my understanding is that Krishnamacharya was also a very traditional man – and the gulf between him and many contemporary yoga practitioners in the West may have been too great. Desikachar has functioned as a bridge. Because of the weight of tradition, these teachings have an authority. They are grounded in textual references and have a solid and inspiring logic and practical application.
But where do we go from here? One extreme is to simply idolise the past, and to reject any innovation that has not come from the source. Sticking with one practice or set of ideas despite a changing landscape is rarely possible. After all, Krishnamacharya and Desikachar themselves continuously innovated and adapted teachings to different situations; they did not stay in one place but changed with the times.
The other extreme is to “do what feels right” – and of course we can be just as deluded by this. The Buddhist teacher Stephen Batchelor expresses this very tension thus:
"Just as you can follow a very wise teacher and fall into dependency and a kind of disempowerment and unhealthy reliance, following your own intuition and impulses can lead you to a kind of narcissistic absorption in your own fantasies."
(from an interview with Andrew Cohen, What is Enlightenment Magazine, www.wie.org)
Throughout its long history, Buddhism has adapted to its host community and taken on something of the host community’s culture. Tibetan culture – with its roots in the shamanic Bon religion – has led to a very different Buddhism than say Japanese Zen or the practices found in Sri Lanka, Thailand, and Vietnam. The challenge has been to separate out what is cultural, and what is universal – and of course even in Buddhism wars have been fought, blood has been spilled over these very issues.
The same issues face yoga and yoga’s growing popularity in the West. Yoga has now become mainstream in a way that it was not even fifteen years ago. For many, the image of yoga is about bodies (beautiful ones) doing amazing things and leading to a happy contented state where we can be relaxed and not troubled by life. I’ll put my hands up and acknowledge that I thought that once! Quite clearly, this is unrealistic – we may never achieve those beautiful bodies, and we may be deeply troubled by the many deeply troubling things in life…and still practice yoga diligently!
“Think globally, act locally” – an excellent phrase. Let us respect our differences. I believe it is right to forge a practical, compassionate and loving yoga that is relevant in our times for our culture. Of course we have the inspiration of those who went before us, as well as the inspiration of our own students, friends and families. I think these are fruitful and rich times – but they require open debate, integrity, honesty and soul-searching.
Ranju Roy
Clare Chapman completed the Practitioner Programme in 2003. She has a particular interest in approaches to back care and the applications of Yoga for the benefit of those with back problems and will be teaching workshops on Yoga and back care at the aYs Convention in July.
This is the first in a short series of articles in which she explores aspects of back pain from both a teacher and practitioner’s perspective, and starts by looking at the “basics” of back pain as it affects the population and is commonly treated.
As a yoga teacher it is lovely to hear students say how much more relaxed, strong and limber their bodies feel after practice, and I am pleased for them when told how much more comfortable their backs have been since they started yoga. It makes sense that the gradual mobilizing of the joints and appropriate activation and release of the muscles through carefully designed practices has this effect. It is also true that asana works more specifically with the spine than most forms of exercise, and in the tradition of Krishnamacharya we have the use of the breath and our attention as an integral and deepening aspect of this work. However, as a teacher I also know that it is not always like this, and in a group class of 14 we are more than likely to have a student with a back problem.
There will not be many people who never have back pain occurring at some time in their lives, and according to BackCare, the national charity for healthier backs, (http://www.backcare.org.uk/backhealth), over one third of the adult population in the UK experience back pain in any one year. It affects men and women in equal number, and is most prevalent in the 30 – 50 age group. I feel it is therefore helpful for Yoga teachers to understand the prevalence, possible causes and prognosis of back pain in order to work more confidently and effectively with their students. We need to know how to advise students who come to us with existing back pain, and how to react (or not) if a student develops back pain.
Although it is not our job as Yoga teachers to attempt diagnosis, and we can work safely with someone coming to us with back pain, we should know whether or not their symptoms are the result of a serious disease, such as cancer or osteoarthritis. In the Spring 2004 aYs newsletter Dr Miranda Bevis wrote an excellent article, “Red flags and backache”, its key points being that people should seek medical advice if they have any of the following symptoms:
- Muscular weakness, incontinence, tingling or numbness
- Pain progressing and/or persisting through the night
- History of malignancy.
Students with such serious pathology are unlikely to be in our group classes, but we may work with them in one to one lessons, in which case we need to operate within the guidance they receive from health care professionals.
Unlike serious conditions, most low back pain is medically categorized as simple, or non-specific. This does not mean “not very painful” back pain – indeed it may be excruciating – rather it means that it is seen by doctors as a contained, mechanical problem that varies with posture and activity and improves over time. This would include localised pain around an injured facet joint, (part of the vertebra), soft tissue spasm in an injured area, or radiating pain from intervertebral discs which may be bulging and pressing on nerve roots. (Disc problems cover a particularly wide spectrum of symptoms, from example, from nerve root irritation to a herniation which may cause intense pain and a serious loss of function and thus takes us beyond what can be regarded as simple low back pain.)
The medical classifications for simple low back pain do not use language in the same way as the layperson, and so to avoid misunderstandings they are worth explaining. Acute is the term now used when a back pain episode has lasted for less then 6 weeks, sub-acute if it has lasted for 6-12 weeks and chronic for over 12 weeks. Unfortunately, because low back pain often fluctuates over weeks, months and years it can be difficult to distinguish between new acute episodes and a chronic process.
An acute episode may be a “normal” response to back trauma arising from especially heavy or awkward lifting, pulling, pushing, twisting, falling or other impact. When symptoms appear instantly it seems pretty clear what has caused the injury and resultant pain, though many of us can testify that pain may not emerge until hours after the excessive digging, lifting or whatever apparently triggered the problem. On occasion it is harder to link back pain to any event that precipitated it, leaving you wondering how an everyday action such as bending to fetch something out of the fridge can have such devastating consequences. These variations in onset are due to the differing degrees and types of injury we can sustain, and this is particularly affected by the condition of our backs in the first place.
In the event of back pain we should follow the advice given by health professionals, which includes not taking bed rest but remaining as mobile as possible. In terms of asana practice we should be conservative and seek to avoid painful movement, (this will be explored in more detail in a future article), and be mindful of the fact that any pain killers, anti-inflammatories or muscle relaxants being taken may mask symptoms.
Recent advice to GPs is that apart from the prescription of these drugs as required, no further treatment for simple low back pain can be usefully given for 4-6 weeks. Referral for further diagnosis, and/or active management with physical interventions such as physiotherapy, osteopathy or chiropractic may then be considered. This is because the vast majority of cases appear to resolve themselves within a 4-week period. Now consider that the prognosis for a person having an episode of acute low back pain is that there is a 25% likelihood of recurrence within 3 months, and a staggering 75% within a year. It may well be that some physical intervention, particularly sooner rather than later, might help to improve these statistics. It could also be that a suitable programme of “exercise”, and we could include yoga asana in this general term, would be beneficial.
I believe there is much scope for examining some of the contemporary ideas on back rehabilitation in the light of traditional Yoga principals and techniques. Another rich arena for us to work in as Yoga practitioners is that of the mind, addressing the feelings, beliefs and suffering that are so often allied to back pain. Forthcoming articles will explore more specifically what the teachings of Yoga offer us.
Clare Chapman
Unless otherwise referenced, figures given are drawn from http://www.prodigy.nhs.uk/ProdigyKnowledge/Guidance, an NHS website which publishes guidelines for GPs. These are based on the 2005 European Commission Research Directorate general guidelines for low back pain, http://www.backpaineurope.org.
Click on the link below to read the article:
Kausthub made his first visit to Scotland in September, with a four-day retreat at Lendrick Lodge, then two masterclasses in Edinburgh the following weekend. I attended the two masterclasses, as a member of what looked like a 100% turnout of aYs Scotland!
On the first morning, Kausthub got us all to introduce ourselves, which made it clear that at least 40% of his audience were either astanga vinyasa teachers, or trainee astanga vinyasa teachers (the venue, after all, was an Edinburgh astanga centre). This probably influenced the approach he took on the first day, which was essentially a discourse on the origins and development of yoga, with special reference to the influence of Krishnamacharya.
He began by explaining that since yoga had originated in a society where people lived a physically intense and active life, and were fit and healthy, yoga was developed in order to benefit the mind. People naturally want to find answers to the big questions (Who are we? Why are we here?), and the ability to answer these questions depends on a calm state of mind. So body and breathing practices were developed to improve the body and breath, and meditation practices were also developed to calm the mind.
Today, as Kausthub said, many people think of yoga as merely a form of physical exercise. But although consciously they come for the physical exercise, many realise that yoga also gives them something deeper from which they benefit, and that’s why they keep coming back. All aspects of the individual (body, breath, mind, personality, emotions) are inter-related, and the power of yoga is that it understands this inter-relationship. For this reason, a yoga practice should be designed for the individual, using the appropriate yoga tools (choosing from asana, pranayama, chanting, counselling, gestures, meditation, &c), and realising that what suits one person may not necessarily suit another.
The length and smoothness of the breath is the key to understanding what is an appropriate yoga practice. This contributes to the quality of asana, and also draws the mind into the practice. This is what makes yoga more than mere physical exercise, because it engages the consciousness. In fact, Kausthub told us, the ancient phrase to describe yoga practices without the breath was jada (=corpse) yoga.
Kausthub then spent some time explaining the concepts of brmhana and langhana – new ideas to most of his audience – but nothing new for us aYs folks. He also explained how it was that two of Krishnamacharya’s students – Iyengar and Pattabhi Jois – developed their teaching of yoga with the main focus on asana. Again, nothing new for our small band, but apparently a revelation to the rest of the audience.
The asana practices we did on this first day were mainly designed to illustrate the points Kausthub had been making.
I felt a little disappointed at the end of the day, as I felt I had learned nothing new, but I did appreciate that Kausthub understood his audience and was providing for the needs of most of the people who were there. After all, you fit the yoga to the person, not the person to the yoga.
On the second day, there was more of interest to me (and my buddies) as Kausthub took as his main text YS 1, 33 (maitri karuna…) and talked at some length about compassion and forgiveness.
The questions he asked us to consider and discuss with him were: What is the role of compassion in our lives? Is it necessary at all? If so, why and when? Why does yoga emphasise compassion?
Lack of compassion, he said, is often the source of many of our problems. It is important to show some compassion, in order to keep a clear conscience – and in addition we ourselves often benefit from the compassion we show. Compassion heals and nourishes the person we care for, and in return that person’s gratitude and happiness makes you feel happy. However, there is such a thing as misplaced compassion; it may be appropriate to get rid of one bad person, in order that the rest of society can be better off.
In the afternoon, Kausthub developed his theme by talking about the importance of forgiveness, and the importance of not holding a grudge, especially if the person who has hurt us asks for forgiveness. He spoke too of the problems that can be created by cultural differences, which can make people see an insult where none was intended. For example, he had once been teaching in the south of France, and one of his students used a copy of the Yoga Sutras to put his heels on in place of a block for utkatasana. Kausthub described how he had instantly felt angry with the student at what he himself, culturally, saw as an insult to Patanjali, but then laughed at himself for forgetting that in the west a book was just a book. As he so rightly said, one of the frequent causes of anger is ego, a sense of self-importance. If the sense of self-importance is reduced, this can also reduce anger and thus encourage forgiveness and compassion.
Each of the practices we did on this second day was essentially a meditative practice focusing on ideas of compassion, forgiveness and peace.
The interesting content of the second day more than compensated for my disappointment on the first day. Listening to the other students around me, it was clear that Kausthub had impressed them as a warm, genuine individual, with a strong sense of humour, and an ability to identify and provide for the needs of his students.
Margo von Romberg
In this year of Grace, Two Thousand and Five
I feel so lucky to be alive.
I have come in an aeroplane that can fly
To the hot and noisy city of Chennai.
And what of the weather? I hear you ask:
To describe it completely is quite a task.
When it rains it pours all night and all day
And the streets become rivers as wide as the silvery Tay.
But most of the days have been quite sunny,
And I’ve also had time to spend lots of money.
I have bought a small elephant carved in sandalwood,
And a bronze one on wheels which I think is quite good.
But why did I come? You want to know.
The reason is, I wanted to go
To the KYM to study there,
And learn how to write without sitting on a chair.
We start with practice at seven every day
And the practice is quite challenging, I really must say.
But we are always well instructed by Geetha,
And Janakiraman demonstrates; and then we eat a
Breakfast of idlis and curd and fruit
And tea or coffee, whichever will suit.
Then Saraswathi teaches us well –
She knows much more than I can tell.
And Sridaran sets aside the financial pages
To teach us the wisdom of ancient sages.
Then out of the Mandiram we go at speed
Carrying our brollies in case of need,
And soon we’re chanting in Vedavani,
Making a noise that is quite uncanny.
But Radha will not allow such poor quality;
We must practise the Gayatri without frivolity.
Then she summons FELIX and also RAJENDRAN
To bring us another chant to learn before we’re done.
In the afternoon we start at three
When Dr Chandrasekaran tries to make us see
That curving spines and stiffened hips
Can be readily cured, and he gives us tips
On how to modify posture according to the person
And avoid things which will only make the person worsen.
We end each day with “little Lotus”
Or Padmini, who has joyfully taught us
To make our hearts blissful, and meditate
So that after two weeks we are feeling great.
And now it’s time to pack our cases.
I see looks of sadness on all our faces,
Because tomorrow we say goodbye
To all you lovely people in Chennai.
WTMcG
This trip had been long-planned and eagerly anticipated by the 24 teachers travelling to Chennai in October to participate in a 2-week KYM programme. Most of us had been to India before, and many had visited the Mandiram, so knew a little of what to expect… but none of us had experienced the monsoon conditions encountered as we emerged bleary-eyed into pouring rain at the airport. We were so grateful that Gill and Ray Lloyd were there to meet us, and had everything organised! For those new to India, there was a 3-fold challenge in taking on board the culture shock, the weather, and the edge of apprehension we all felt about presenting ourselves as “experienced students” to senior teachers at the Mandiram.
However, any initial sense of being over-awed rapidly dissolved into feelings of profound admiration and respect, as we experienced the friendly warmth and generosity of the KYM teachers, as well as the superlative quality of their teaching. Classes started at 7 a.m., when we were led by Geetha Shankar, the Director of Studies, through progressively challenging practices around various themes. There followed a delicious breakfast of idlis, dosas, or vadas along with sauces such as the spicy sambar— plus fruit and curd. The elegant and erudite Saraswathi, a clinical psychologist, then instructed us on the mysteries of hatha yoga, and the practical applications of prana theory. Next S. Sridharan, a former financier turned yoga scholar, who unravelled the complexities of samyoga in Chapter III of the Yoga Sutra, delighting us with his wit and dry humour as he did so. A short walk (or wade/wallow-in-mud depending on the flood-state of the road) then took us to Vedavani for our chanting class. Radha really fired us with her warmth and exuberant enthusiasm: incredible how much can be learnt when precision and accuracy is insisted upon, and one is taken just beyond one’s limit!
After lunch, “Dr. N.C” (N. Chandrasekaran), a practising physician, explained and demonstrated the application of yoga to individual needs. Ways of observing and correcting asymmetrical tendencies were explored, as well as practices to help people with specific medical conditions. Finally, as dusk fell, Padmini led us through meditation practices using asana, sound, breathing techniques, nyasa, and the contemplation of various questions.
As the days progressed, it became clear that not only was each teacher’s subject area carefully prepared and presented, but also that specific themes had been masterfully interwoven throughout. Thus, for example, Sarsswati’s discourse on cakra alignment to facilitate prana flow within the subtle body found its physiological correlative in the afternoon study of spinal symmetry and straightness; and ideas around dharana, dhyana and samadhi explored in Yoga Sutra study were used as foci for contemplation in the meditation sessions.
The class schedule was disrupted for several reasons, the most dramatic being the weather. At dawn on Thursday, after 2 days of unceasing downpour, we awoke to flood waters gently lapping at the top step of the corridor leading to our ground floor rooms. Wading to the auto-rickshaw stand at the front of the hotel, the decision to brave the elements and go to KYM was taken. Because of rain-related problems at the Mandiram building, however, many classes were held at Vedavani instead, and had to be juggled over different days because of teachers’ travel difficulties. As Thursday progressed, the wind got up, lashing the rain even harder (a cyclone, it transpired, which uprooted many trees lining the streets), and doubts were raised about the viability of the return journey. In the event, rickshaw-drivers willing, we made it—something of an adventure for us, by now seasoned commuters, but a grimmer encounter with the harsh elements for thousands of Chennaiites, particularly those in the suburbs which flooded to waist-height.
Further upsets were caused by the consequences of “Delhi belly” which were more severe for some of us, a few becoming very poorly with gastric flu-type symptoms. This seems to have been not simply the response of Western tummies to an unfamiliar regime, but a “bug” of some kind, since many Chennaiites, including one of our teachers, were also affected. Throughout all these difficulties, Gill and Ray were towers of strength and support, coping with each crisis as it arose with calm sang-froid.
Although the vicissitudes of our respective digestive tracts came to surpass shopping as an extra-curricular activity and as a major topic of conversation, we managed nonetheless to snatch time to explore the delights of retail therapy, and even to fit in a bit of sightseeing. On Saturday, after Desikachar’s weekly talk and a make-up class, three minibuses (one for the luggage!) whisked us to nearby Mamallapurum for 36 hours of luxury chill-out at the Ideal Beach Hotel. Bliss… and the sun shone!! The ocean, the pool, the massages and pedicures, the balconied a-c’d rooms with view, the delicious food, the shopping, the stunning stone carvings of the world-heritage site monuments… it was a tough call how to allocate those hours. Happy to report, the Ideal has recovered well and is thriving post-tsunami; a 10-foot deep and wide wall under construction blocks the beach view, but will help them feel more secure from any future onslaught.
The festival of Diwali which fell during our second week brought non-stop firecrackers from dawn to dusk, and on into the night. This posed an interesting challenge for us in chanting and meditation, but even more so for our teachers, who calmly continued above the din and in the gaps in-between.
During the closing ceremony at the end of the week, Desikachar (in response to a question about “the most important practices to bring to our daily life”) paid tribute to the sraddha demonstrated by each teacher in overcoming personal obstacles on his or her path to becoming a yoga teacher. And indeed, it is this sense of deep commitment and dedication to the sharing of Krishnamacharya’s teachings, carried forward with intelligence and a warm hearts, which we carried away with us from this fortnight. As eloquently stated in Michael Hutchinson’s poem,which he read out at the ceremony: “As Desikachar recalls a story/heard at the feet of his father, his voice/becomes part of the experience,/the stillness and steadiness of intention.”
Our sincere thanks to all at the Mandiram for their hospitality and teaching, to Gill for organising the trip, and to Paul Harvey who took us on our way on this journey.
Cheryl Blamey
I was fortunate to have the chance to work with Peter Hersnack in September at Launde Abbey. For me, his approach to asana was like a combination of body-release work from the world of contemporary dance and yoga. It was utterly unique and yet still held true to the principles of the teachings he has received from Desikachar, which are familiar to us. It is an experiential approach to asana and uses many subtle bhavana.
A key bhavana is using the awareness that each part of the body is supported and, in turn, gives support. For example, the legs give support to the pelvis, which in turn gives support to the trunk. We also used the bhavana of feeling the front of the body supported as we moved down into uttanasana, which encourages the back to release.
One bhavana I found particularly useful was the idea of allowing the ribcage to float on the movement of the spine on both the inhale and exhale during simple asana and pranayama. This type of practice encourages the feeling of space and freedom in both body and breath.
His approach to explaining the Sutras was interesting too. One day he was teaching around II.48, explaining about the relationship of two things as opposed to a pair of opposites. Yoga is a philosophy of two things, purusa and prakrti, the Seer and the seen, and through the practice of yoga we move towards an awareness that we are a relationship of these “two” things, a dvi. When we are confused we see ourselves as though these two things were “one”, rather than a relationship of “two”, and we become fixed and cut ourselves off from ourselves. Where there is a lack of discrimination between a “two” then you create a state of opposition, a state of opposites, a dvandva. If you ignore the “two-ness” of life it will throw pairs of opposites at you.
Other examples of relationships of “two” are axis and form (the spine is an expression of axis and the ribcage is a part of form), and body and breath. In “Religiousness in Yoga” Desikachar says, “Use breath to give direction, support and depth to movement.” The corollary of this statement is that movement can give direction, support and depth to the breath. The breath works on the body, and the body works on the breath. It is a relationship of “two”. If body and breath stay separate, in a relationship of “two”, they can work together in a positive way. The breath reminds us that something breathes and something is being breathed. If they become confused as “one”, then we get stuck, confused and unable to breathe well.
I found Peter’s style of teaching intriguing, like all good teachers he makes you think. He approaches something familiar, be it asana, pranayama or philosophy, from a different viewpoint. I came away with helpful ideas around my own practice and I’m looking forward to working with him again.
Lynne Scott
IN
Those who receive this newsletter are teachers, students, practitioners and friends of the approach to yoga formerly known as viniyoga.
This community continues to be inspired by and committed to the teachings of Desikachar, his father Krishnamacharyia and to the excellent teachers who have devoted their yoga journeys to this work.
However, the changes which have taken place within the structure and teacher training have been troubling and confusing at times.
These changes are evolving and we are now entering a freer and more open environment which gives us more choices.
It is time for optimism, healing, a positive outlook and a celebration of the wonderful teachings which have inspired us all.
This newsletter seeks to show some of the various directions which are open to us for our continued study within this approach. It seems an opportune time to launch a new website and newsletter.
My first one to one meeting with Desikachar was at KYM 15 years ago. He asked me why I had travelled so far and what my expectations were. After I had spoken, he said that he had inhaled and heard me, that he would go away and retain that, would return to our next meeting and exhale with a plan of action for me to retain. (Something like that)
This image of the two way process always impressed me and was the inspiration for the title of the newsletter which Jenny and I produced about 10 years ago called AK.BK. There were six copies over four years with colourful and energetic content.
The newsletter has had several incarnations since then. After a brief rest, it re-emerged with a new team, format and energy.

Hard work and strong commitment from so many have kept the newsletter as a regular contact point.
This latest newsletter is now electronically produced. It has a new editorial team and a different visual image. We hope that this will symbolise strength and optimism with clarity.
Introducing…………. IN
This felt to be a good time to refresh the image and change the energy.
I tried to think ‘outside the box’, but surprisingly had a strong vision of two letters which were ‘inside the box’, like a stamp or hallmark. These letters were quite simply …… IN.
Crisp, clear and zen-like.
IN is INcredibly flexible and INfINitely variable yet with a strong foundation or root. Sound familiar?
As a prefix it represents so much of our work. We have INspirational teachers who have encouraged INtelligent and INnovative application of ideas according to INdividual needs. The source of our INput is IN INdia.
WithIN words IN also plays a role as we search for the divINe, work out how to lINk with the source or refer nostalgically to vINiyoga.
We want to stay IN touch with each other and the evolving yoga world.
So the first issue is called IN …………… touch. This is vital because we need our community to feel connected.
IN is also versatile as it can be changed according to the theme of each issue.
There has to be a two-way flow, so after the INhale and pause there is an Exhale and pause. The next issue could be titled IN………. EX
I hope very much that that we can INform and INspire you to become INvolved too.
We await an INteraction and EXchange of ideas.
Sheila Baker
Yoga practitioners are familiar with opposing pairs, firmness - softness, prana - apana, movement - stillness, and we have, for the purpose of this newsletter added new-old. The ‘new’ is in its e-ness, format, editors and the fresh start following a spell of turbulence. ‘Old’ in its focus on our strong and vital parampara, this golden tradition that has been handed down to us via great and inspiring teachers and of which we are fortunate enough to be today’s recipients.
When I began working with Paul Harvey in 1986 I was immediately struck by the distinctiveness of this style of yoga and the power of a personal practice that included such core ideas as SKLIBS and breath with movement in order to bring about change.
Under the heading of ‘old’, we have chosen to focus on just two of these hallmarks; innovation and the teacher-student relationship. Innovation enables us to work with the tools of yoga on a gloriously broad canvas without losing our link to the source and the work of Krishnamacarya and T.K.V. Desikachar. To illustrate this we have articles on the role of yoga for dyslexia, the menopause and panic attacks (with suggested practices).
Topic of teacher-student relationship has become an umbrella under which to examine the place of the yama in one-to-one settings, a personal yoga journey plus an up to date account of the KYHF and a recent workshop with A. G. Mohan. Stretching the heading slightly, we have included a piece on supervision in psychotherapy (should we be taking more heed of this in what we do?), reflections on sanghas and three pieces on sound and chanting.
Our intention in this IN is that the breadth of the material demonstrates the inclusiveness and richness of this style of yoga (Oh! How I yearn for a name!). It is this that gives the opportunity for individual students and teachers alike to flourish and develop their own interest and specialities without compromising the purity of the parampara.
Thank you to all our contributors for the time and thought that went into your pieces. For the next issue, please may we have articles on any seminars and courses with
T. K. V. Desikachar, Menaka and Kausthub, Paul Harvey and Process Yoga, Sadhana Mala and other teachers who work in this discipline.
Finally, Sheila and I have been stop-gap editors just for this edition. Our chairs are now empty, but we are both very happy to help and support with the hand over.
P.S: There is an exhibition of Chola bronzes at the Royal Academy in London until 25th February 2007. It is utterly glorious and, for the India lover, not to missed!
Jenny Bullough
I was in an odd sort of mood as I set off for India at the end of September. Why was I going? Was this what I really wanted to do? Would I enjoy my visit? Would the monsoon be as bad as last year’s? But there’s nothing like a complete change of scene if you are looking for a bit of clear vision. I emerged from Chennai Airport into the evening rush hour, and my taxi journey to the New Woodlands Hotel through chaotic traffic (with the occasional sight of a cow standing at the side of the street) was enough to put a smile on my face. I was back, and I felt right at home!
As I had expected, the “Pilgrimage of Sound” chanting course was excellent. There were ten of us in the group, from all over the world, with varying levels of chanting experience, but with the same desire to learn and improve. The teachers at Vedavani are cheerful, knowledgeable, and quite dedicated to the passing on of what they themselves have learned so thoroughly. The daily early morning asana class included chanting to prepare our lungs for what was to come. Each day we had two intensive sessions of chanting and one session on the theory and history of vedic chanting. At the end of the day, as we sat in meditation, we listened to the chanting of our meditation teacher. This was an absolutely magical experience. I also took the opportunity to have some one to one lessons, and my confidence in working with chanting has gradually grown.
So it was with genuine regret that I headed for the airport at the end of the course. If there was a “level 2” chanting course, I’d sign up for it in a flash. Meantime I try to do some chanting every day, just to keep my vocal chords in trim.
You will also want to know what your Steering Committee is doing for you. We do most of our work by e-mail, but have so far had one teleconference (very useful), and plan a face-to face-meeting early in 2007.
As you’ll see from the advertisement elsewhere in the newsletter, we have arranged our first “Annual Sanga”, a get-together simply for Members and Friends. We decided to do this in response to requests at Convention in July, at which there was such a strong feeling of togetherness. The format will be similar to the format used for Convention. Chris Preist has agreed to be our guest tutor, so I am looking forward to lots of Vedic chanting! Jane Harris will be in charge of the overall organisation of the event.
Since you will (I hope) be reading this newsletter on the website, you can also see that we are gradually developing a new image for the association. Apart from information about our teachers, classes, courses &c, it will include two discussion forums (or fora for the purists), one for teacher members only, and one for all members, including Friends of the association. Andrew Davies is overseeing the development of the website.
As you will know, we also have to develop new courses to replace the previous ones, and Paul Riddy has been working on this. His proposals for Introductory Workshops and Foundation Course are now out to current tutors for their consideration, and we expect them to be available for them to use early in 2007. The most important change is a change towards a more open structure, allowing tutors to make use of their own materials, which we hope they will also be willing to share with colleagues. We are hoping to include a session for course tutors to discuss these ideas at the Annual Sanga. Once the courses are in place, work will begin on a Level Three course.
In-Service Training is something else that teacher-members will want to know about. We have decided to retain the current requirement of two days (10 hours in total) of IST. If you attend the Annual Sanga, that will count as fulfilling your IST requirement. There will also be two specific IST events, one in spring and one in Autumn, and information about them will be with you as soon as possible. We will also recognise a minimum 5 hours one-to-one or a post graduate course with a recognised teacher as counting towards IST. Maggie Pollard is our IST contact.
We are also in the process of finalising a Constitution for the association, and you will all receive a copy of the final draft sometime in the Spring. Our first AGM will be held at Annual Sanga, and those attending will be able to vote on the Constitution, and on the election of an Executive Committee.
The association is changing, and the most important move is towards a more open and democratic structure. However it is important for you to remember that democracies depend entirely on the willingness of ordinary people to put themselves forward to work for the good of the community. At present there are six of us on the steering committee, but the draft constitution allows for a maximum committee of twelve. And none of us, including me, is going to be on the committee forever. I am hoping that arrangements for an election by postal ballot can be put in place sometime around April or May.
So I am urging all of you to give serious thought to doing a bit of Karma Yoga. In other words, put yourself forward to join the committee, since the more people we have to do the work, the less any individual has to do. Some of you may also be ready to do things for the association without necessarily joining the committee. Many of you put your names down at Convention in July, but if there is anyone else out there willing to help, please let me know.
This is an exciting time for the association. We are moving forward in an inclusive way and developing new ideas.
It will be good to meet as many of you as possible at the Sanga in July.
I have been invited by Margo to write about the Krishnamacharya Healing and Yoga Foundation (khyf). My main intention is to address any outstanding queries aYs teachers may have with regard to registering with the khyf through Prior Learning Accreditation. (PLA).
However I would like briefly to set the scene. The khyf was set up by T.K.V Desikachar earlier this year to deal in a formal and systematic way with issues of education and certification in the lineage of T. Krishnamacharya. The main difference is a move away from schemes developed in each country to one where the khyf develop training and certify all students centrally. The khyf has already developed an international teacher-training programme, which has received provisional accreditation from the British Wheel of Yoga for its application in the UK. It also has a four-year therapy course, which commences early next year in three locations around the world. These are completely new arrangements set up to link all adherents of this tradition under one global umbrella. The first teacher-training group is already underway in the UK with another starting early 2007 in London. Those successful will be certified teachers of the khyf.
Turning now to accreditation through prior learning, khyf certification is also available for those who have successfully completed the aYs four-year Practitioner Programme and who want a current and continuing link with the source. The khyf only certifies individuals, not organisations, and all applicants must have a mentor (a one to one guide and teacher) who is licensed by the khyf. I believe there has been some concern over this especially if one’s teacher does not himself or herself wish to make the link. Currently, only Sarah Ryan, Fiona Ashdown, Andrew Curtis-Payne and I fulfill these criteria in the UK but things will change very soon. This November I have arranged an integration weekend for my students who wish to be certified by the khyf. Those who are successful will be able to offer mentorship too. It is also possible to have a mentor from Europe and even from the KYM itself. Indeed a few from the UK have already taken this step. When one is accepted, a license is issued for five years and during that period there are continuing education requirements that fulfill the criteria for renewal at the end of that time.
Once the November event is over, if there is demand, I could easily arrange a further integration weekend. But it is important to note that there is a deadline for PLA of 31st March 2007 though this may be extended a little.
I think it is important to note that the khyf is only interested in teachers who are wholehearted in their commitment to it. It does not seek to encourage membership where this is not present. It is looking to support those with a keen and heartfelt connection to the source and a commitment to ongoing learning from it. The teaching is not static but continually evolving and because of this, only the khyf really represents the teaching tradition of T. Krishnamacharya and T.K.V. Desikachar. To be a khyf teacher is to become part of a global community linked to the heart of this tradition.
Please write or e-mail me if this is a direction you wish to pursue.
Please note that the KYM continues to flourish and is the primary affiliate of the khyf , which operates as the hub of all the teachings. The KYM has its own web site and programme of events, with its doors open to all.
Gill Lloyd
(Teacher Trainer khyf)
4th September 2006
atha…
The seeds were sown as long ago as 1982 when I went to my first yoga class during an extremely unhappy time in my life. I was lost and filled only with hopelessness and despair. Then someone suggested I should “try” yoga, as it had done her a lot of good, and she was now “devoted” to it. I didn’t know what to expect because I had never been keen on physical exercise and had always felt uncomfortable in my body. I thought then, that yoga was specifically about the body and exercise because that was how it was perceived: on the edge of being a bit weird and outside the usual forms of “keep fit”.
My experience at the first class changed all that. Although I fell over while doing trikonãsana (parsva) for the first time ever, I got up and gamely kept trying. At the end of the session I felt enlivened in a way I had neither expected nor ever before experienced. So I continued to attend all classes in that short six week course and when it finished, by good luck I found a class near my home and continued there. There, I met someone who introduced me to a special way of working in yoga: the teaching tradition of Krishnamacharya and Desikachar. Things were changing, and I began to recover.
…yogãnusãsanam (Y.S. I.1)
In 1983 I met Paul Harvey, a student of Desikachar who was then offering the first teacher training course in this special approach to yoga. It began in 1985 and I was lucky enough to be accepted. The following four years proved to be a profoundly challenging time in my personal journey and I was confronted with much that I did not understand, not only about yoga but also, most importantly, about myself; my first experience of the power of parinãma.
It became very clear that yoga is much more than physical exercise and bodywork. The mind, emotions, the very stuff of which we are made is its essence, and there are no hiding places for the observant and committed student.
In 1995 I began to study with Frans Moors, another of Desikachar’s students, who lives and works in Belgium. Again, my journey had brought me to another “crisis” point and I knew my direction had to change (more parinãma) and I needed a different teacher. And again, after my initial meeting with Frans, I knew that this was the right move for me. I began to study the yoga sutra anew and each time I went to Liege another level of appreciation and understanding of this text was opened up to me, adding to the foundation that had already been laid during my years of study and training with Paul. After ten years, I am progressing through chapter IV; I have understood that this study is a lifetime commitment, that yoga is no “quick fix”.
sraddhaviryasmrtisamãdhiprajnãpurvaka itaresãm (Y.S. I.20)…
The real nature of the student/teacher relationship is profoundly special; its foundation is sraddha, which must be present in both student and teacher: one of mutual trust, respect and commitment. The student must be serious and “hungry” to enquire and have the tenacity to keep going when the going gets tough; the teacher must have patience, understanding, kindness and compassion to support the student through the peaks and troughs encountered along the way.
This relationship is also an expression of dharma: that which holds something in place and lifts it up to where it should be when there is a fall. For me, it is the support and inspiration both for my personal and teaching practice.
As a student I am very well aware of all this; it is my experience. As a teacher, I have learned over the years that fragility is present in everyone and it is by no means an easy task to meet the needs of each student, to guide them towards a different understanding and appreciation of themselves through practice, study and example. I am also conscious of my faltering and hesitations in both these roles. It is sraddha that keeps me going and this sense of sraddha comes from the relationship with my teacher. Desikachar has said: ”yoga is relationship” The unique student / teacher relationship is surely a profound expression of yoga.
nimittamaprayojakam… (Y.S. IV.3)
After some time, I began to feel more secure and confident both in myself and in my work. I wanted to offer my students something of what I had received during my years of study, training, growth, experience. I conceived the idea to offer a training course to work with a small group of students over an extended period, which reflected a traditional way of teaching; the foundation for the course would be the student/teacher relationship. I prepared an outline of my thoughts and discussed them with Frans who gave his support and encouraged me to go ahead; I would not have done so if he had hesitated or told me to wait. I knew I wanted to give this course a name which would reflect my intentions and later, during a practice a name presented itself: anusaãsanam came into being.
I have now offered three series of two year cycles; the current one will conclude in Spring 2007; a good time for a small number of new teachers to set up classes and who knows where it will take them? Now, I am working with three students from the first training group who are developing their teaching work with individuals. Throughout these years the support and encouragement of my teacher has been the inspiration and dharma for the work.
I don’t know yet when or whether I will offer another cycle of training but I do know it is time for me to take a pause to reflect on the direction my journey should now take.
I have been a mother for 44 years, a grandmother for 2 years, a student and teacher of yoga for 20+ years. My little family lives on the other side of the world in Australia; perhaps this is where my dharma now lies; something else – not exactly a crisis – on the agenda to discuss with my teacher at our next meeting. Together with my own reflections, sharing with friends and family, I am confident that my teacher’s observations will help me decide what I should do and where I should be at this point in my journey.
An essential part of the student/teacher relationship is to guide the student towards autonomy; it is clearly beyond the usual context of teacher, because it involves more than just teaching yoga. It becomes one of mentor as well as teacher in the complex and challenging process of a student’s journey.
The gift of this unique relationship is that it honours the link with the source of the teaching; each time I am with my teacher I am linked to the source; every time I practice, meditate, chant, I am linked to the source and every time I am with my students we are all linked to the source of this teaching.
Pamela Tyson
October 2006
Saturday 22nd July 2006 - Organised and introduced by Simon Lowe
Adapted from notes taken during an Introduction, mainly on Patanjali, by A G Mohan.
A G Mohan (AGM) began by emphasising the importance of questioning, and pointing out that Indian philosophy is based on discussion, not blind adherence. The Yoga Sutra, for example, is not based on belief, but on things the practitioner can experience. AGM argued that, in theory, it would be possible for someone to improve on Patanjali’s account of Yoga. In practice, his teachings have stood the test of time, and are accepted by many schools of thought as the psychological underpinning to Yoga practice. They are not sacrosanct, but they are unsurpassed. They have needed no adaptation, but they have attracted many commentaries.
AGM emphasised the importance of the psychological, even in Hatha Yoga practices such as bandha, nyasa and mantra (in my earlier private lesson with AGM, he emphasised the importance of feeling also in pranayama, by going beyond the mechanics of counting or nostril control). It is the feelings associated with these practices which matter more than the physical details. For example, we are not competent to teach bandha-s until we have both learnt the physical practice and experienced them fully. Similarly with nyasa; in India, the physical gestures are learnt in childhood, but their meaning is experienced later, and with mantra, we learn the words, and later the meaning is understood.
Discussing Patanjali’s teaching on the meaning of the term ‘yoga’ (i.e. yoga = citta vritti nirodha), AGM stated that term ‘Yoga’ is itself often misunderstood as ‘to unite’. There are, he explained, two potential root meanings for ‘yoga’; yujir yoge, to unite, and yuja samādhau, to concentrate or to apply. The second meaning is the one assumed by Patanjali, since, in Yoga, there is nothing to unite with, only distractions to be removed.
Nirodha means to arrest the citta, a concept we translate as ‘mind’, but which has no exact parallel in English. Vìitti means ‘activity’ or ‘sustenance’, that which keeps the citta going. Without vritti there is śūnya – no thoughts, no feelings, no mind! Again, this is something the practitioner should not take on trust, but seek to experience.
According to Patanjali, the value in stopping the mind is that peace is obtained and that conflict is reduced, and that from nirodha contentment, freedom and compassion emerge. All positive feelings arise from inner stillness. However, Patanjali does not promise happiness, since life is complicated. Also, focus alone does not lead to peace; many potentially distracting vritti-s are themselves very focused.
All vritti-s, all thoughts, all attachments lead to both happiness and unhappiness, so there is no lasting happiness, but it is possible to have lasting peace. To this end, the Yogi keeps the mind steady (ekagrata) at all times, not only when it is necessary (in order to reduce distractions, such as desire or anger). At the end of one’s Yoga practice, the activity of thoughts and emotions in the mind should always be less.
Salutations to Patanjali, to our great teacher, Krishnamacharya and to his student, A G Mohan, and apologies for any misinterpretations.
Michael Hutchinson

A clear, crisp early November afternoon, and I am bombing up the Route de Soleil motorway from Marseille, heading into the cold northerly Mistral wind in my little rented Peugeot. As evening falls, I turn to cross the river Rhone, passing through little villages and along ever-narrowing roads, then turn again onto a single rutted track. Thankfully just before darkness falls, I arrive at my destination: a Zen Buddist Centre called La Falaise Verte – the Green Cliff. This aptly describes the wooded, steeply hilly countryside, indented by deep gorges and rivers, which characterise the Ardeche region of France. I have come here for a 4-day yoga retreat on the theme of “Suksma” co-led by Martyn Neal (who was our Guest of Honour at this year’s aYs Convention) and Peter Hersnack. Peter is Danish, a longstanding student of Desikachar’s who has worked extensively with dancers and also therapeutically. Many of the other participants of the retreat are also yoga teachers -- and all are French, so this will be a linguistic challenge as well as a yogic one!!
Over the next 4 days, Martyn and Peter led us through an exploration of the suksma aspects of asana, pranayama, chanting and meditation, linking always with conscious awareness of the way in which we use our breath and our imagination. For Peter, suksma evokes the idea of prana, emanating from the dynamic interplay between candra and mula. Candra is seen as the seat of asmita, reflecting the light of purusa and giving us our sense of who we are. Mula, rooting us in the world, represents our confusion between what is ourselves and what is the world, and is therefore seen as the seat of avidya. The central axis of our torso gives us the freedom to “play” between these polarities, but also presents the conflict of the “dvandva” between the two.
The interweaving of this theory into asana practice was explored primarily through the use of bhavana, the link between the imaginary and the real, the subtle and the concrete. The use of bhavana allows a new point of view. We explored the bhavana of an imaginary ‘stepping back’ on the pause between the exhale and inhale. This stepping outside of ourselves, seeing ourselves as if from afar, was in order to more fully enter the “space” within ourselves. We also worked on bhavana which linked the transmission of support between feet, pelvis and trunk and its effect on the breath.
Focusing on the interaction between the inhale and exhale had a suksma effect on the breath as well as on our perception of the body.
Peter offered the baddha konasana variation of dvi pada pitham in a practice to demonstrate. In this posture, the head is in a stable relationship to the pelvic girdle, and the mula is lifted to prevent confusion with descending apana; space is created for an unforced inhalation to be experienced as internal opening.
With reference to the dirghasuksma of YS II.50, the idea of “creating space” can also be applied to pranayama. Peter used the simile of radio interference reduction to offer the idea that achieving a quality of suksma is not so much a question of lowering the volume, as of finding a different frequency. The concept of “tender breath” (soft, gentle, aware), with or without ujjayi, can be used to create “holes,” so that dirgha becomes not so much a lengthening but a discovery of space(s) into which breaths occur, “popping up like mushrooms appearing out of the ground.” In this context, the counting of breath lengths/ratios can create a problem. The challenge is to dissociate the mechanical technique / mind from the breath rather than becoming immersed in it, using the body as the support.
Martyn took us on a further exploration of suksma in the Yoga Sutra: the warning in II.10 to be extra-vigilant when klesa are at the suksma level; and a revisiting of the concepts of dharana, dhyana and samadhi within the context of suksma visaya in I.44. He led us through several wonderful chanting sessions, including the gayatri and tadapyesa sloko bhavati. He also treated us to a concert, interspersing French with British/American songs from the 60s and 70s. The lofty spaces of the Zen meditation room rang with the sounds of Georges Brassens, the Beatles, and even a rendition of Hello Dolly! with a startlingly accurate imitation of Louis Amstrong.
Although Peter and Martyn used the usual teaching methods (lecture, practice, large/small group discussion, workshops etc), the big difference was the delightful interchange between them as they co-presented and facilitated, participated in each other’s practices, and treated us to some thought provoking “mini panel-discussions.”
Their warm working relationship spread amongst the whole group, incorporating even this “foreigner,” and proving that yoga not only offers transcendence, but transcends language barriers and international boundaries!!
Cheryl Blamey
In a recent seminar in England I took some time to speak of yama and niyama, and the idea has been put forward that it could be useful if I share my thoughts about these aspect of yoga with the readers of IN.
You find below a brief distillation of my view on yama, and in a later issue I will write about niyama.
The 2nd chapter (pada) of the yoga sutra deals with our way of being in the world.
The first half of the chapter explains how our way of seeing the world and seeing ourselves creates confused relationships at every level of our life.
The second half, with the beginning of the third chapter, presents the means for reducing confusion and moving towards relationships based on freedom.
These means are the eight limbs (angas) of yoga practice and each anga aims at dissociating and clarifying the interacting parts of a particular relationship :
Our relationship with another person, with ourselves, with the body, the breath and so on, until the very interaction between our being and our perception is explored by meditation.
The first anga, yama, has five parts and concerns our relationship with another person.
What is very important ,I think, is to examine the five parts from inside of the relationship, and not focus on the person who enters into relationship.
The five yamas are not attributes to be achieved or commandments to be held, but are five points of view which can help us to deepen and clarify what happens between ourselves and another person, so that we are not confused about who is who.
I see the first two parts, ahimsâ and satya, as forming a pair which sets out the basis of the relationship.
Ahimsa is an examination of the space that I am ready to give to the other. Can I offer him a space of security and freedom, where that which is vital in him can express itself?
Satya is a constant examination of the space that I am ready to occupy myself. Am I able, with what I am, to take support on what is?
Ahimsa opens a protected space for the relationship, and satya allows for simplicity and direct interaction.
It is only when we begin to explore ahimsa and satya - the basis of relationship - that the next two yamas reveal their importance.
Asteya : how can I enter into relationship - interact - and yet not take advantage of the other ? How not to use the relationship ?
Brahmacarya : how not to loose myself in the relationship ? How to give myself and yet not loose my priorites in life ?
Asteya allows what is precious in life to reveal itself,and brahmacarya preserves and rekindles our energy for staying with whatis essential.
While the exploration of asteya and brahmacarya deepens the relationship and allows each person to be what he is, the fifth yama, aparigraha, points beyond this particular relationship :
Aparigraha is to explore the possibility of not accumulating, nor being attached to what has been found in a relationship based on freedom. Aparigraha is to accept the difference between Life and the forms by which life reveals itself. This is why the sutra says that the effect of living aparigraha is a deep understanding of “the why and the how” of life.
Staying IN touch,
Peter Hersnack
I have been invited by my yoga teacher to write something about supervision, from the point of view of a Psychoanalytic psychotherapist (which is what I am). As supervision is given in my profession I have several years behind me of the process, both the receiving and the giving of supervision, of supervision groups and seminars and other quasi-supervision situations (e.g. supervising therapists in other fields).
The aim of supervision is to allow the practitioner to think with an experienced colleague (or qualified person) who is outside the intense atmosphere of the therapeutic session about what goes on in it, as remembered by the supervisee and paying particular attention to the levels of interaction that occur between therapist and patient. Such thinking about – which inevitably brings in feelings, emotions and reactions that are not necessarily rational or easy to understand – allows for reflection on the therapist’s own psychic input and affects in a non-judgemental way. It can be a very good learning situation (for both parties) as well as helping to free the therapist from projected material that the client may be, as it were, putting into him/her, usually unconsciously, and thereby to return to the next therapy session with at least a clearer mind and, with any luck, enhanced insight.
Yoga teachers, like doctors, (parents, teachers, etc) experience a good deal of such ‘transference’ from their clients. Without the capacity to take a longer view of the intimate work with patients the potential for burn-out and stress is ever present.
Having given this warm-up, I am going to talk, briefly, about a particular sort of ‘supervision’ situation: the Balint Group. This was a system initiated by Michael Balint, a psychoanalyst in the 1950’s and used by him and his wife for small groups of Gps. it continues to be used to this day.
Balint’s starting point was that at the centre of a Dr/patient consultation there is always a human relationship. Drs (you can read yoga therapist/teacher for Dr) are as variable as their patients; no two consultations are ever the same. Making a diagnosis is a small part of the work – a lot else occurs alongside. I should think that the everyday work of a yoga teacher, like that of a GP, is carried out at an interpersonal level where what the patient says and does is taken at face value and responded to in a pragmatic and straightforward way. At times this straightforward level of interaction is complicated by irrational and unconscious forces, which intrude into the relationship. The practitioner can be left feeling puzzled and uncertain what to do whilst the patient feels not helped or unsatisfied.
A Balint Group concentrates on the emotions aroused by a patient/ practitioner encounter and includes the practitioner within the view. Clinical observation, emotional response and the gaining and giving of therapeutic satisfaction are all mutual processes, the importance of which is understood by a good practitioner. There is also the recognition that, for a patient in distress, the very act of being in relationship with the therapist can in itself promote healing and change. The simple recognition and acceptance of the distress offered by the patient is felt by the practitioner.
The Balint Group provides a regular forum for thinking about such dynamics amongst a few colleagues. It relies on the inclusion of one member/facilitator who is trained in this way of thinking (probably psychoanalytically trained), with an awareness of unconscious processes. He/she is not in a ‘teacher’ role but is offering herself and her skills as facilitator, listener and commentator on the events in the consulting room that are brought to share with the group, by one member each time. Important conditions for the functioning of a group are: 1) the acceptance by all members of not knowing; willingness to stay with an idea without jumping to quick conclusions; toleration of uncertainty. 2) A personal narrative, whether by patient in the consulting room or practitioner in the group, is not necessarily ordered or sequential. Group members are asked to speak from memory rather than from written notes. 3) A willingness for self-exploration and to give all members in the context of discussion the time and encouragement to reflect on what things mean for them at their own depth and pace.
The benefits can be many: the opportunity to stand back from the consultation experience; increased tolerance of feelings of inadequacy, incoherence and not knowing; a cross-fertilisation of psychoanalytic ways of thinking with those of other practitioners about the patient/practitioner relationship; the stimulation of careful observation within the therapeutic consultation; the increased appreciation of the psychological dimension through observation of apparently trivial, meaningless phenomena; etc, etc …. To be a regular contributor to this sort of a work-group can be extremely rewarding and enriching as well as supporting with obvious consequences for the patient/practitioner work as well as personal benefits.
Jenny Hill. October, 2006
At our most recent sangha here in Bristol, we wondered whether other groups were continuing to meet on a regular basis, and if so, how they used their time. We agreed that we would let you know what WE did, and see what reponse there was.
We are fortunate in this area in that we have a considerable number of teachers, both newly qualified and more experienced; no one has to travel more than about twenty miles to get here, although the traffic congestion in this part of the world can sometimes mean it feels like fifty! Most of us live within Bristol itself; however, because some have “day” jobs, finding a day and time that suits everyone can be difficult. We have had as few as four, and as many as ten attending.
We have tried Fridays 1 till 3pm and Sundays 11 till 1.00pm, and are planning to revert to Sundays. Meetings take place four times a year, Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, usually at Marian’s house. She is located centrally in Bristol (and also has gently encouraged us over the years to keep going) Our annual highlight is a “bring to share” lunch in the Summer, a mixture of business and pleasure at Sue’s lovely converted barn in Somerset (Hello magazine eat your heart out!) This is when we fix the dates for the coming year, and Marian undertakes to let everyone know,
Sometimes we know what we are discussing in advance, and sometimes we don’t!
Over the past ten years we have covered topics such as back care, pregnancy, M.E, twists, and hyperventilation. We use some sessions for chanting, and also to share problems we may have with classes or students. In our early days, we took it in turns to organize regular workshops for teachers and students. This gave us invaluable experience and confidence .
During the past two years, when there have been considerable changes in the organisation, and some fears for its future, coming together has enabled us to have full and frank discussions, and lessened the feelings of isolation that some of us had. When a training course finishes, the sangha has proved to be hugely supportive.
If anyone finds themselves in the area on 11th Feb, 13th May, or 10th August, they would be very welcome. Just let Marian Miles know.
Cathy Salah
Panic attacks are sudden, unexpected episodes of intense terror and anxiety, occurring for no obvious reason. There are associated physical symptoms, including chest pain, palpitations, sweating, shaking, dizziness, shortness of breath, and choking feelings. Physiologically, the areas of the brain involved in the “fight and flight mechanism” are in overdrive. Raised activity in the sympathetic nervous system causes the physical symptoms, including rapid, shallow breathing (hyperventilation). This has the secondary effect of “blowing off” excessive amounts of carbon dioxide, which changes the chemistry of the blood, making it less acidic. This in turn causes light-headedness, which intensifies the feelings of panic and physical distress. The body is flooded with the stress hormones, adrenaline and cortisol. Under the influence of these, and because of electrical impulses coming from the “stress” areas of the brain, those areas involved in rational thinking are relatively shut down. Symptoms may be so bad that sufferers imagine that they have a life threatening illness, particularly on the first occasion, and often end up seeking emergency medical advice.
About one in 50 of the population suffers from panic attacks, women being twice as likely to be affected as men. Onset can be at any time, but it is most commonly below the age of 24. Panic attacks may be associated with other problems, such as depression, and alcohol or drug misuse.
It is not clear why some people are prone to these attacks. Traumatic early life experience is certainly a factor. This can cause an imbalance between the functioning of various areas of the brain. Those that are involved in the normal, rapid respond to real danger, are overdeveloped, while those which check out reality and provide a calming influence are underdeveloped. There is also some genetic predisposition to this condition.
Without treatment, panic attacks, and the fear of having them, can come to dominate a person’s life. With each successive episode, there is increasing anxiety about having another, and sufferers tend to avoid situations where there seems to be an increased risk of an attack being precipitated. This avoidance behaviour, together with constantly living in fear, puts severe restrictions on life: It may become difficult to work and to travel, and relationships may be adversely affected. Sometimes it becomes almost impossible to go outside, a condition known as agoraphobia. Not uncommonly sufferers become extremely depressed, and sometimes, in an attempt to control symptoms, may resort to excessive alcohol or drug use.
Conventional treatment can be with drugs, psychological therapies, or a combination of the two. The most commonly used class of drugs are the Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRI’s) which including Prozac, Seroxat and Cipramil. These reduce general anxiety, and the frequency of attacks. While drugs such as diazepam (Valium) are very effective in the short term, they are addictive, and best used only for short periods of time. Beta-blockers, such as propranolol, are sometimes useful to reduce symptoms such as racing heart, which can help to break the vicious circle of unpleasant physical feelings exacerbating fear.
Several psychological approaches can be used. These include Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), and self help books. These sort of approaches identify unhelpful negative thought patterns, which misinterpret bodily sensations and predict catastroph