Geeta Iyengar and Transformation

The theme for this go round of the blog emerged as I pondered how the changes in me and my life over the last four years would effect my experiences here since my first visit.  The other thing I wondered was how the experience would be different without Guruji's physical presence.   While it goes without saying that one is transformed with the death of one's parent and guru, I was curious how Geeta, Prashant, and the rest of the local Iyengar teacher community here have transformed with the departure of Guruji's corporeal form just 14 months ago. 

I mentioned earlier how there is a twinkle in Prashant's eyes, a smile as he talks about Guruji, his teaching and his life.  There is more story telling interspersed with his classes, even though the lessons which Prashant gives are still tough and profound. 

But now, let me turn to Geetaji.  She seems, in a word, buoyant .  Whether giving a talk or teaching a class, she vibrates with a sense of youthfulness that belies her troubled gait. There is a palpable lightness in her rapport with us.  She teaches with the usual laser vision, but she is positively playful!  

In our first class, within three rounds of jumping back and forth from Uttanasana to Adho Mukha Svanasana, she had determined that we all needed to learn how to jump all over again.  We pumped back and forth, we kicked our "buttocks" like bucking broncos to bring an energy and lightness to the movement.  I imagine we looked pretty funny!  Once that came along, then we JUMPED from Adho Mukha Svanasana into Uttitha Trikonasana and back again - MANY times!  And on and on  - we jumped into the poses like the children in the Sunday morning classes!  

In another class, it was she who did the kicking--kicking some bad back bending habits out us with so much clarity that I was able to straighten my cranky left arm/shoulder for the first time...ever.  We watched as she showed a real time transformation of two colleagues' poses, which we then tried to bring to our bodies.   It was a good day.

Other than being in her asana classes, I had never heard Geetaji speak. so the two lectures she gave the first weekend were very special.  The first was on the 16th Chapter of the Bhagavad Gita...the one about the range of human qualities from divine to devilish.  Final conclusion -- we are all struggling along that spectrum and our practice will help us find the way to the divine side.  

The second, on the occasion of Patañjali Jayanthi, the anniversary of his birth, was special for another reason -- it was the first time the Institute had had an event since Guruji's passing.  All the family was there dressed very festively, and Patañjali was outfitted in an impressive array of fresh flower garlands. 

Sunita, another of Guruji's daughters and wonderful teacher in her own right, chanted the 108 names of Patañjali for us to repeat.  Guruji's great granddaughter played at Geeta's feet while she lectured on Sadhana - practice - and her message ultimately was that our transformation would come not through repeating the same old practice of the asana and pranayama, but by moving on from those each day to new understanding; by including thoughtful consideration of the Yoga Sutras given by Patañjali to guide our practice -- on AND off the mat.

As did Prashant, she referred to the asana photos of Guruji all over the hall.  Light on Yoga, she said, was originally meant to be a guide for those who did not have a teacher, and that when the book was published, he was already moving on from what he tried to show in those photographs.   He was no longer doing the standing poses for the quoted strength and stamina benefits alone...he had already been practicing for 32 years when the book came out, so the strength and stamina were already there!  Those poses in his practice became about something deeper.

For me, this notion of not becoming rigid, not getting stuck in one way of thinking or doing anything in my life, particularly in this practice, is key to cultivating the transformational process.  

Happy Diwali!

Diwali is the festival honoring Laxmi, the goddess of prosperity and wealth.  

Homes and businesses are decorated with colored lights and lighted paper lanterns.  



Entryways or courtyards are decorated with rangoli, colorful sand or rice drawings, and sometimes even flowers, to welcome guests and encourage Laxmi’s blessings.  

At night little clay lamps filled with oil are lit and placed on or near the rangoli.   

At the risk of oversimplifying what my local friends explained over a delicious traditional breakfast of upma, each day involves different traditions, from pujas to offerings of flowers and sweets to the gods at the local temples; from ceremonial bathing and squashing of evil characters to gift giving traditions between husbands and wives, and brothers and sisters.  Myriad treats for a sweet new year are prepared and given to friends and neighbors and guests.  And everyone gets very dressed up, even to climb the many flights of stairs to one of the higher temples in Pune.  

One of the days was once considered end of the fiscal year for businesses, so many close and hold a puja to bring blessings for a prosperous new year.   With the standardization of the fiscal year, this is now just ceremonial. 

Money atop seeds for a prosperous new beginning 

In addition to being a school and family holiday akin to the winter break in the U.S., many folks leave town as local Diwali celebrators set off fireworks all week long -- both the eye-popping Fourth of July variety and the ear-blasting noisemakers of our New Year.  

On the plus side:  less traffic means less pollution. 

On the minus side:  earplugs may be necessary at bedtime.  It's nearly midnight as I finish this post, and the fireworks are still going on out there.

With the Institute closed for the holidays, a few of us made like locals and took a little trip outside of Pune.  Our destination was a favorite mountain retreat of visiting yogis offering a spectacular view, Aryuvedic treatments and food and an Iyengar yoga practice hall...the air was delicious too!

Driving out of town into less populated areas can put one into a new category of traffic jam.  

But, last night, back in Pune, we enjoyed the fireworks...from a super cool rooftop bar at the JW Marriott, far from the madding crowds.  All over the city one could see amateur and professional style fireworks appearing against the silhouette backdrop the mountains that surround the city. 

Happy Diwali everyone 

and a prosperous New Year!

Appreciating Pune's Past

Early Sunday morning, a band of intrepid yoginis took off for a sunrise walking tour of Pune.  Crossing the Shivaji bridge, we caught the first glimpse of the golden orb as our architect/historian tour guide helped us imagine the Pune of early centuries, where citizens would come down to the water to bathe.  

The Shaniwar Wada, where the Peshwas lived for many decades, was a 7-story palace once.  Now just the fortification walls remain.  

The door was designed to keep away invaders riding on elephants.  

Note the sun and moon emblem above the spikes symbolizing the eternal rule of the empire.

I remember touring some of the next sites with a local resident last time and discussing how sad it was that the beautiful old buildings were not being taken care of.  This tour, sponsored in part by an organization whose two fold mission is to fund and restore these treasures AND to teach city residents about their own heritage, is one of Pune's transformations since my last visit.  

The wadas - or traditional homes in Maharastsra, featuring ante rooms, courtyards, fountains and facades -- are in various states of restoration. Depending on the wealth of the owner, the wada might have several of these courtyards, separating the spaces nearer the front door for visitors from the private spaces like the courtyard below intended for the women and children. 

Our architect - guide was particularly giddy about the no-nail joinery of the wooden structures.

Lotus symbols galore

Not yet restored. Note the clerestory window above the larger shuttered one.  These were a feature throughout the old city, allowing light to come in when the larger windows were closed.

Peacock and two parrots

The famous Kasba Ganapati Mandir, temple to Ganesh, the patron deity of Pune, built in the 18th Century and still used today.  No shoes and no photos inside!  Ganesh deserves his own posting, so more on him another day. 

Offerings and flower garlands for the deities...of note, the dear lady selling the wares is 102 years old!  Imagine the history she has witnessed...

Coming up next:  Diwali, Food, Geeta's Classes and Ganesh.  Stay tuned!

Prashanti the Philosopher

Back to the topic of Parinama or Transformation....

At the risk of injuring my husband who will fall off his chair laughing when he reads this....I am learning to be a morning person.

Part of that is creating new samskaras...new habits and that is a step down the path of transformation.  

Rising at 5:30 to make coffee, snack on some muesli, fruit and "curd" as yogurt is called here, helps to get things going.  Follow that with the brisk walk to and through our beautiful park to get to class, ideally by 6:30, seals the deal.  Class begins at 7 am sharp, and I want to get a good spot in the hall.

The main reason to get up so early is this:  I REALLY want to be fully alert for Prashant's classes because to take in the gems of the philosophical monologue that will weave through as we practice the sequence he calls out requires a high level of attentiveness to the words (he invents many), the ideas and how they affect the experience of the pose. 

We jump into what ever pose he calls out, and with rapid fire delivery begins the exposition of his thoughts on what is yoga.  At first he challenged us to do with no instruction, not because we don't need it, but because we should be alert to our state of body, mind and breath and determine how to work in the pose based on that.   Are you sleepy?  Are you stiff? Does you hip hurt?  Are you angry, sad, happy?  Do you need to work in your legs or your back?  If in your legs, is the front of the leg or the back of the leg you need to focus on?  While this goes on, you ponder and do and observe.  

But then your attention is drawn back out:  "Now, ALL OF YOU, listen here!", he says, and paraphrasing:  The needful practice of linking your mind-body is good, but notice what happens as you add the breath awareness.  What if you move on the inhalation, what happens then?   Ok now during the exhalation go deeper.  Now at the pause after the inhalation.  Try it with an uddiyana bandha.  Where does the mind go?

Silence while we work and try to let it sink in.  Then again we are drawn outside of our selves:  

"ALL OF YOU!  Come here and sit."   

Prashant has many stories this week about his father, all told with a smile in his eyes.   Some make us laugh, others offer an insight into Guruji or an "ah ha" moment.  Every photo of Guruji from Light on Yoga is on the wall above us.  In our third class with him, Prashant points to a photo and notes that these were done to try to capture what he wanted to teach, but were just a single moment, a "photasana".  How different the pose might look if he were practicing it for the body, mind and breath union.  

"How would YOU do differently", he asked us, "if you were doing this pose during a scan of the brain?"  He then points to the photo of Savasana - Corpse pose and reveals that Guruji instructed the photographer how to know that he was truly in the pose and not take the photo before he saw those qualities.  The face has a look of deep relaxation, the skin soft and fluid.  "That", Prashant notes, "is NOT photasana."  

Each early morning class with Prashant brings a new twist (no pun intended) to the practice, moving closer to the goal of yoga, transforming how to think not just about practice, but also the self in the many layers of our being - physical, mental, emotional, intellectual and spiritual.  

O Two...O How I Appreciate You

Jeff asked after my first post, “What do I smell?” which gave me the idea that I should paint a picture of what it is like to live and practice here. 

Let me say upfront that coming to Pune for a month is a HUGE gift – to myself and for my students – and I’ll share another post about the nature of the classes and practice time.   Fundamentally, however, it is challenging for those of us who like fresh air – and who doesn’t?

Now, you might be imagining a yoga retreat in a tropical and quiet urban oasis, and I IMAGINE that it was like that when the Iyengars first built their home and the Institute in the ‘70s.   

Today this area, called Model Colony, is bustling with traffic.  There are remnants of beautiful old mansion properties and highly stylized modern ones amidst older, slightly crumbling structures, newer apartment buildings and abandoned properties.  Several universities are nearby, and modern shopping enterprises reside side by side with specialty “mom and pop” shacks along the sides of roads -- major and minor --selling anything from ironing services and holy day flower chains to fresh fruit, kitchen wares, groceries, breakfast and chai. 

The Institute driveway itself is nicely landscaped with plants and trees which does make it greener in a sea of concrete buildings, but whether in class, practice or observation, it's impossible to escape the sounds and smells of the traffic as the windows are all open.  The many overhead fans in the hall keep the air moving which helps a bit.  

Most of us who come to study here live in the neighborhood of the Institute.  Our days start early, with a 2-hour class at 7 am three days a week, followed immediately by a 3-hour practice.  Two days there is a 2-3-hour class at 9:30 am with a long break until a late afternoon practice.   And one day a week we practice first, and then have an evening pranayama class.  My flat mates and I leave at 6:30 to walk to the Institute, and at that hour the air is fairly cool and the pollution is sometimes noticeable, BUT, we only have about 5 blocks of traffic to walk in as we can walk through this delightful park. 

Sadly for our lungs, the park is closed from 11-4, so we negotiate our way home through busy streets like this one:

Once home our apartment host’s chef makes us a delicious and healthy lunch from the veggies and beans she has shopped for the day before.  

We then either study, take care of errands and rest before returning to the Institute for either a late afternoon or evening class or an opportunity to watch other classes taught for locals including the Medical Class.  Unfortunately, we can’t count on walking home through the park at night, so our trip home looks like this:

My local sources attest that from four years ago, the air quality has gone from bad to worse.  The pollution is quite literally visible and noxious…smog, motor pollution, smoke from trash burning… and the lack of monsoon season in the region means that that “freshening up” of the atmosphere didn’t happen.   On the busier streets, it burns the eyes and lungs and even on less major arteries, it’s very noticeable.  My activated charcoal filter mask may not be pretty, but when I walk in traffic or go out in the auto rickshaw, it's very effective.  My friends are not as happy with their scarf option.  Now if only there were a mask for the eyes!

 

I DID notice that Sunday’s air quality was noticeably better as folks are hanging out with family and there is less traffic.  We have no classes or practice that day, so it’s a great day to head to the park for walks in the morning.  

My flatmate, Farnaz, enjoying the cleanish park air with me

Another day, I'll share a bit about what the classes have been like and a few photos from the institute.  

Transformation

Hello again!

As the gentle reader may note in the previous posts from my first visit here four years ago, I was swept away by the place, the people, the new experiences.  I was head-over-heels in love with the color, the visuals of both everyday life and my excursions near and far.  I see that I felt affection for the cultural differences, in awe of the Institute and the chance to learn directly from Guruji, Geetaji, Prashantiji, and the others here, wonder at the marvels of humans in the early centuries, and finally amusement at my fumbling attempts to understand it all.  I wrote and photographed, in part, to share those moments with friends and family who were curious, and of course to help me to remember this time, as one tends to forget the primacy as time wears on.  Taken as a whole, the past posts read as a snapshot of who I was at that time, AND who I wasn't...yet.

And so the wee hours of jet lag have me pondering this notion of transformation.

In yoga, the Sanskrit word parinama has a multitude of applications and interpretations.  The basic definition is "transformation", but as Edwin Bryant points out, it also means "consequences, and can be read as pointing to the ever-changing nature of everything."

Our goal in yoga, according to Patañjali, is to still the fluctuations of the consciousness to find the true nature of our Self.  To do that we have to transform on many different levels, peeling away at the layers and obstacles to that goal until we can begin to catch a glimpse of said Self.  

To the beginning yoga student who comes to class for any number of motivations, this goal might seem overwhelming and daunting!   Thankfully, Patañjali's Yoga Sutras break it down for us.   But while there are some very helpful translations and commentaries, not to mention our wise teachers and Guru who help clarify and bring "light" to help us get there, where does one begin transformation?

I humbly submit we can begin that journey in Tadasana - Mountain Pose.

As beginners, we learn to find the shape of the pose, how to move and position the feet, legs, the torso and head and the arms.  One day, after many repetitions of that and other poses, it occurs to us that it is not merely a physical act.  We become aware how one action brings us freedom to do or create another action, while another closes that avenue.  We transform our physical awareness of the pose and our sense of our self in it.  And on and on it goes, as we discover more and more subtleties, not just of our physical body, but also the physiological, mental and spiritual experience in a pose.

Those "ah ha" moments, whether in a pose or in life, are transformation.  And while they can be gratifying, the Yoga Sutras also recommend we not get attached to that feeling.  In our practice or in class, we can use that moment as a new starting point, but in all likelihood, there will be other transformations, so we continue our study, and our life, and observe what happens...and continue transforming.