More work in karandavasana

Shri K. pattabhi Jois and Sharat performing Puja London 2002

Ashtanga en Indra

Pattabhi Jois

Correcta alineación en Sirsasana (headstand)

1. Colocar los codos paralelos a la misma distancia de los hombros.
2. Entrecruzar las manos fuertemente formando un triángulo con los codos. Colocar la cabeza en el suelo con el punto más alto del cráneo en contacto con en el suelo. (delante de la coronilla aproximadamente)
3. Al inhalar subir con las dos piernas estirados con la ayuda de la fuerza de la inhalación y el movimiento de la cadera.
   
4. Una vez ya en sirsasana empujar con las manos y los codos hacia el suelo de forma que el peso no se pose en la cabeza,  al mismo tiempo  el cuerpo se proyecta dinámicamente hacia arriba. Es importante fijar bien los codos en la esterilla para evitar que los codos resbalen hacia los lados y se pierda el
   
   equilibrio.  Mantener las piernas activas,juntas y rectas con los dedos de los pies apuntando hacia arriba. Eso mantiene las escapulas hacia atrás y el centro del pecho abierto.
5. Usar la correcta aplicación de mula bandha y uddiyana bandha para estabilizar la cadera en el punto central de gravedad y desplazar el cóccix ligeramente hacía atrás para conservar las 4 curvaturas naturales de la columna vertebral, sin perder el control de la musculatura que protege la zona lumbar para mantener el cuerpo recto y erguido. Una contracción exagerada abdominal restringirá el movimiento diafragmático de la respiración y anulará la curvatura propia de la espalda, por lo que debe ser focalizado el control uddiyana bandha encima del hueso pélvico y nunca más arriba del ombligo. 
6. Mover un poco el cóccix también ayuda a poder sentir el movimiento del suelo pélvico de forma más precisa. La parte posterior del cráneo se alinea con las nalgas y los gemelos.
7. El punto centro de apana vayu (suelo pélvico) y de prana vayu (centro del pecho) se mantienen dinámicamente activos  y se repulsan el uno al otro  como dos fuerzas magnéticas iguales. La parte
   superior del cuerpo proyecta la fuerza hacia el suelo, mientras que la parte inferior energéticamente busca la intención hacia arriba.
8. El paladar blando se relaja, la mente se centra en la cualidad sonora de la respiración. La mirada se
   
   centra en nasagra drishti (la punta de la nariz).
9. Para progresar a Niralamba Sirsasana, las manos presionan fuertemente contra el suelo y al mismo tiempo que se eleva la corona de la cabeza el cóccix ayudado por los bandhas se mueves sutilmente hacia atrás para cambiar el centro de gravedad encima del punto donde están las manos. Manteniendo el control abdominal y del suelo pélvico, levantar la cabeza hasta que el mentón contacta con la parte superior de tórax (posición de jalandhara) y la mirada se centra en los dedos de los pies.

Home practice

The Unfolding Mirror- Richard Freeman

In order to understand the experience of yoga, the earliest schools of yoga postulated that there are two different principles of all experience which operate in a profound relationship to each other; that of Purusha

and Prakriti. Purusha, which is pure being and pure consciousness, always has as the content of any experience Prakriti, which is creative, always changing energy.


Purusha is the seer, the witness, the real you or me. Prakriti is the seen, the experienced, the form, even down to the most subtle of mental events. Any ideas or feelings, even those about Purusha, are composed of the impermanent, interconnecting braids of a mutable, timeless energy, or Prakriti. Since Prakriti is the content of all experience, Purusha cannot be “experienced” as such, but is realized by the full releasing of Prakriti.

Technically we cannot even say there is a relationship between Purusha and Prakriti, since Purusha is completely unthinkable. Any relationships are actually between various complementary and opposite functions within the unified field of Prakriti. Philosophically the relationship between these two metaphysical absolutes comes to a halt in a knot of self reference paradox. This is not actually a problem. It happens eventually in all systems and is a beautiful and essential disappearance of the mentally constructed thinker.

Purusha and Prakriti are brilliant metaphors, which aid in the actual yoga practice and the experience of observing all phenomena as impermanent construction. For example, we can say that the process of realization in yoga can be likened to the simultaneous unfolding of millions of flowers (Prakriti) to face the light and glory of the rising sun (Purusha). The Kamakalavilasa Tantra also says, “The awakened flower energy, as Mulaprakrti or primordial Sakti is supreme; being in the nature un-originated and undisturbed joy, eternal, utterly incomparable, the seed of all, the spotless mirror in which is revealed the radiant form of Siva.”

Grounded in metaphor and myth, ancient Samkhya, Yoga and Tantra all state that it is the relationship between Purusha and Prakriti or between Shiva and Shakti which is the propelling force behind the creation, maintenance and dissolution of the universe.

Mythologically the deep process that one awakens in the other can only be compared to that of a profound love affair in the depths of its illusions, the complexities of its situations and the heights of its joys. The Yoga Sutra explains that, “the purpose of the coming together of Purusha and Prakriti is the gaining by the Purusha of the awareness of His true nature and the unfolding of the creative power inherent in Him as Prakriti.”

The Samkhyakarika explains that ultimately the emergence and evolution of the manifested world is to play out the process of the apparent bondage and liberation of the Purusha. Everything is for the sake of Purusha, the witness, consciousness: and, when illusion is finally removed, the Prakritic process is seen to be indescribably tender. “It is my thought that there is nothing more delicate than Prakriti who (says to Herself) ‘I have been seen’, and never comes into sight of the Purusha….says the Seer (Purusha)’I have seen (Her)’. The other ceases (saying) ’I have been seen’, though the two are still in proximity, no creation takes place.”

It is from this apparent paradox of love, the primordial duality-in-unity of Purusha and Prakriti, that the whole universe of yoga unfolds. Philosophically the Samkhya universe is understood in terms of consciousness, i.e., in terms of how it appears to the Purusha. In fact, this is the key; that the universe is what appears to Purusha. It is what is seen (Drshya). Its entire purpose is to put on a show, an extraordinary theatrical event of sorts, to show the Purusha the wonder of it all.
“A connoisseur draws out love with tender care from the pulsation of leaves, from the rays of flowers.”— Sahaja Verse

The primary axiom of the system is the absolute distinction between Purusha and Prakriti; Purusha as pure, contentless consciousness, and Prakriti as the unconscious content thereof.

As it appears normally, consciousness is always conscious of something. Consciousness then appears as the thing of which it is conscious. What is unconscious then appears as conscious. Purusha appears as what it is not, and Prakriti appears as what it is not. A double negation occurs (“appears” within Prakriti) where both principles reveal what they are by appearing to be what they are not. The appearance of this paradoxical double negation forms the epistemological bind of illusion (Avidya), the confusion of Prakriti with Purusha, consciousness with its fleeting contents, the field with the knower-of-the-field.

The nature of the duality proposed here is subtle and the correct understanding of it in real life is liberation of the Seer. This is not a duality of the Cartesian variety where there is an ontological distinction between mind and body, thought and extension or awareness and matter. Quite paradoxically, Samkhya likes to include all distinctions within the category of Prakriti, allowing for a subtle reductive materialism in which gross arises from subtle which in turn arises from more subtle, and so on.

Ordinary consciousness or awareness is a manifestation of Prakriti as “Citta Vritti” or “Antahkarana Vritti”, meaning modifications of mind-stuff or modifications of the internal instruments. Ordinary awareness or thought is an intentional, striving, active construct of subtle material energy. On the other hand, Purusha is pure witness, contentless consciousness, never reducible to gross Prakriti or subtle Prakriti. Yet only when the subtle Prakritic vehicle waxes clear or flowers is the epistemic distinction between awareness as subtle Prakriti and the Purusha seen by the embodied Purusha.

Thus, the problem of bondage and release appears only within Prakriti as the adventures of a subtle Prakritic vehicle mistakenly identified as consciousness itself. The Samkhyakarika states: “Nothing, therefore, is bound, nothing released, likewise not anything transmigrates. Only Prakriti in its various forms transmigrates, is bound and is released.” Enlightenment reveals what has always been the case, a principle beyond Prakriti, always free as pure consciousness. This principle is no-thing: it is, however, indicated by seeing the negative dialectics within Prakriti. As the Upanishads say, “Neti, Neti”, “not this, not this”.

So now there is nothing left to examine or to explain but Prakriti. But a close observation of Prakriti can bear the greatest prize for the observer. The Yoga Sutra states, “Liberation is when there is equality of purity of the Purusha and Sattva (intelligence/ Buddhi)”. What is observed, Prakriti as intelligence, can be tuned so as to reflect the pure light of consciousness. Descriptions and thoughts about Prakriti, any conditions from which they might have arisen, and any reactions they might produce are also Prakriti. Prakriti apprehends Prakriti. When the Prakritic vehicle of Sattva (intelligence) is free of epistemological confusions the very process of Prakriti appears, to the delight of the Purusha, as the delicate flowering of truth.

Práctica

The Eight Limbs of Yoga, and How They Work Together by Gregor Maehle

According to Patanjali there are eight “limbs” of
yoga. How they work together can be understood
from the following story:
Once upon a time a couple lived happily together
in a country that had an unjust king. The king
became jealous of their happiness and threw the
man into a prison tower. When his wife came to the
tower at night to comfort him, the man called down
to her that she should return the next night with a
long silken thread, a strong thread, a cord, a rope, a
beetle, and some honey. Although puzzled by the
request, the wife returned the next evening with all
the items. Her husband then asked her to tie the
silken thread to the beetle and smear honey onto its
antennae. She should then place the beetle on the
tower wall with its head facing upward. Smelling
the honey, the beetle started to climb up the tower
in expectation of finding more of it, dragging the
silken thread as it did so. When it reached the top
of the tower the man took hold of the silken thread
and called down to his wife that she should tie the
strong thread to the other end. Pulling the strong
thread up, he secured it also and instructed her
further to tie the cord to the other end. Once he had
the cord the rest happened quickly. With the rope
attached to the cord he pulled it up, secured one
end of it and, climbing down, escaped to freedom.
The couple are, of course, yogis. The prison tower
represents conditioned existence. The silken thread
symbolizes the purifying of the body through asana.
The strong thread represents pranayama, breath
extension, the cord symbolizes meditation, and the
rope stands for samadhi, the state of pure being.
Once this rope is held, freedom from conditioned
existence is possible.
Patanjali’s eight limbs of yoga relate to Ashtanga
Vinyasa practice thus:
The first limb consists of a set of ethics, which
ensures that the yogi interacts in a harmonious way
with the surrounding community. The ethical precepts
are: not to harm others, to be truthful, not to
steal, to engage in intercourse only with one’s
partner, and to abstain from greed.
The second limb consists of observances, which
ensure that body and mind are not polluted once
they have been purified. Purification in yoga has
nothing to do with puritanism. Rather it refers to the
“stainability” of body and mind. “Stainability” is the
propensity of the body/mind to take on a conditioning
or imprint from the environment. The observances
are physical and mental cleanliness, contentment,
simplicity, study of sacred texts, and acceptance of
the existence of the Supreme Being. The first two
limbs are initially implemented from the outside, and
they form a platform from which practice is undertaken.
Once we are established in yoga they become
our second nature: they will arise naturally.
The third limb is asana. Many obstacles to knowing
one’s true nature are manifested in the body, for
example disease, sluggishness, and dullness. The
body profoundly influences and, if in bad condition,
impinges on the functioning of mind and intellect.
Through the practice of yoga asanas the body is
made “strong and light like the body of a lion,” to
quote Shri K. Pattabhi Jois. Only then will it provide
the ideal vehicle on the path of yoga.
As the Yoga Sutra explains,5 every thought, emotion,
and experience leaves a subconscious imprint
(samskara) in the mind. These imprints determine
who we will be in the future. According to the Brhad
Aranyaka Upanishad, as long as liberation is not
achieved, the soul, like a caterpillar that draws itself
from one blade of grass over to the next, will, by the
force of its impressions in this life, reach out and
draw itself over to a new body in a new life.
This means that the body we have today is nothing
but the accumulation of our past thoughts, emotions,
and actions. In fact our body is the crystallized
history of our past thoughts. This needs to be deeply
understood and contemplated. It means that asana is
the method that releases us from past conditioning,
stored in the body, to arrive in the present moment.
It is to be noted that practicing forcefully will only
superimpose a new layer of subconscious imprints
based on suffering and pain. It will also increase
identification with the body. In yoga, identification
with anything that is impermanent is called
ignorance (avidya).
This may sound rather abstract at first, but all
of us who have seen a loved one die will remember
the profound insight that, once death has set in, the
body looks just like an empty shell left behind. Since
the body is our vehicle and the storehouse of our
past, we want to practice asana to the point where it
serves us well, while releasing and letting go of the
past that is stored in it.
Yoga is the middle path between two extremes. On
the one hand, we can go to the extreme of practicing
fanatically and striving for an ideal while denying
the reality of this present moment. The problem
with this is that we are only ever relating to ourselves
as what we want to become in the future and
not as what we are right now. The other extreme is
advocated by some schools of psychotherapy that
focus on highlighting past traumas. If we do this,
these traumas can increase their grip on us, and we
relate to ourselves as we have in the past, defining
ourselves by the “stuff that’s coming up” and the
“process that we are going through.” Asana is an
invitation to say goodbye to these extremes and
arrive at the truth of the present moment.
How do past emotions, thoughts, and impressions
manifest in the body? Some students of yoga experience
a lot of anger on commencing forward bending.
This is due to past anger having been stored in the
hamstrings. If we consciously let go of the anger, the
emotion will disappear. If not, it will surface in some
other form, possibly as an act of aggression or as a
chronic disease. Other students feel like crying after
intense backbending. Emotional pain is stored in the
chest, where it functions like armor, hardening
around the heart. This armor may be dissolved
in backbending. If we let go of the armor, a feeling
of tremendous relief will result, sometimes
accompanied by crying.
Extreme stiffness can be related to mental rigidity
or the inability to let oneself be transported into
unknown situations. Extreme flexibility, on the other
hand, can be related to the inability to take a position
in life and to set boundaries. In this case, asana
practice needs to be more strength based, to create
a balance and to learn to resist being stretched to
inappropriate places. Asana invites us to acknowledge
the past and let it go. This will in turn bring us
into the present moment and allow us to let go of
limiting concepts such as who we think we are.
The fourth limb is pranayama. Prana is the life
force, also referred to as the inner breath; pranayama
means extension of prana. The yogis discovered that
the pulsating or oscillating of prana happens sim
ultaneously with the movements of the mind
(chitta vrtti). The practice of pranayama is the study
and exercise of one’s breath to a point where it is
appeased and does not agitate the mind.
In the vinyasa system, pranayama is practiced
through applying the Ujjayi breath. By slightly
constricting the glottis, the breath is stretched long.
We learn to let the movement follow the breath,
which eventually leads to the body effortlessly
riding the waves of the breath. At this point it is
not we who move the body, but rather the power
of prana. We become able to breathe into all parts of
the body, which is equivalent to spreading the prana
evenly throughout. This is ayama — the extension
of the breath.
The fifth limb is pratyahara — sense withdrawal.
The Maitri Upanishad says that, if one becomes
preoccupied with sense objects, the mind is fueled,
which will lead to delusion and suffering.6 If, however,
the fuel of the senses is withheld, then, like a
fire that dies down without fuel, the mind becomes
reabsorbed into its source, the heart. “Heart” in
yoga is a metaphor not for emotions but for our
center, which is consciousness or the self.
In Vinyasa Yoga, sense withdrawal is practiced
through drishti — focal point. Instead of looking
around while practicing asana, which leads to the
senses reaching out, we stay internal by turning
our gaze toward prescribed locations. The sense of
hearing is drawn in by listening to the sound of the
breath, which at the same time gives us feedback
about the quality of the asana. By keeping our
attention from reaching out, we develop what tantric
philosophy calls the center (madhya). By developing
the center, the mind is eventually suspended and
the prana, which is a manifestation of the female
aspect of creation, the Goddess or Shakti, ceases to
oscillate. Then the state of divine consciousness
(bhairava) is recognized.7
The sixth limb is dharana — concentration. If you
have tried to meditate on the empty space between
two thoughts, you will know that the mind has the
tendency to attach itself to the next thought arising.
Since all objects have form, and the witnessing
subject — the consciousness — is formless, it tends
to be overlooked by the mind. It takes a great deal
of focus to keep watching consciousness when dis -
tractions are available.
The practice of concentration, then, is a pre -
requisite and preparation for meditation proper. The
training of concentration enables us to stay focused
on whatever object is chosen. First, simple objects
are selected, which in turn prepare us for the
penultimate “object,” formless consciousness, which
is nothing but pure awareness.
Concentration in Vinyasa Yoga is practiced by
focusing on the bandhas. On an external level the
focus is on Mula and Uddiyana Bandha (pelvic and
lower abdominal locks), but on an internal level it is
on the bonding together of movement, breath, and
awareness (bandha = bonding). To achieve this
bonding, we have to let go of the beta brain-wave
pattern, which normally accompanies concentration.
Instead we need to shift to an alpha pattern, which
enables multiple focus and leads into simultaneous
awareness of everything, or being in this moment,
which is meditation.
The seventh limb is dhyana — meditation.
Meditation means to rest, uninfluenced, between the
extremes of the mind and suddenly just “be” instead
of “becoming.” The difference between this and the
previous limb is that, in concentration, there is a
conscious effort to exclude all thoughts that are not
relevant to our chosen object. In meditation there is
a constant flow of impressions from the object and
of awareness toward the object, without any effort
of the will. Typical objects chosen are the heart lotus,
the inner sound, the breath, the sense-of-I, the
process of perception, and intellect, one’s meditation
deity (ishtadevata) or the Supreme Being.
In Vinyasa Yoga, meditation starts when, rather
than doing the practice, we are being done or moved.
At this point we realize that, since we can watch the
body, we are not the body but a deeper-lying witnessing
entity. The vinyasa practice is the constant
coming and going of postures, the constant change
of form, which we never hold on to. It is itself a
meditation on impermanence. When we come to the
point of realizing that everything we have known so
far — the world, the body, the mind, and the practice
— is subject to constant change, we have arrived
at meditation on intelligence (buddhi).
Meditation does not, however, occur only in
dhyana, but in all stages of the practice. In fact the
Ashtanga Vinyasa system is a movement medi -
tation. First we meditate on the position of the body
in space, which is asana. Then we meditate on the
life force moving the body, which is pranayama.
The next stage is to meditate on the senses through
drishti and listening to the breath, which is pratyahara.
Meditating on the binding together of all
aspects of the practice is concentration (dharana).
The eighth limb, samadhi, is of two kinds —
objective and objectless. Objective samadhi is when
the mind for the first time, like a clear jewel, reflects
faithfully what it is directed at and does not just
produce another simulation of reality.8 In other
words the mind is clarified to an extent that it does
not modify sensory input at all. To experience this,
we have to “de-condition” ourselves to the extent
that we let go of all limiting and negative programs
of the past. Patanjali says, “Memory is purified, as if
emptied of its own form.”9 Then all that can be
known about an object is known.
Objectless samadhi is the highest form of yoga.
It does not depend on an object for its arising but,
rather, the witnessing subject or awareness, which is
our true nature, is revealed. In this samadhi the thought
waves are suspended, which leads to knowing of
that which was always there: consciousness or the
divine self. This final state is beyond achieving,
beyond doing, beyond practicing. It is a state of pure
ecstatic being described by the term kaivalya — a
state in which there is total freedom and independence
from any external stimulation whatsoever.
In the physical disciplines of yoga, samadhi is
reached by suspending the extremes of solar (pingala)
and lunar (ida) mind. This state arises when the inner
breath (prana) enters the central channel (sushumna).
Then truth or deep reality suddenly flashes forth.
 

Richard Freeman Interview: Quiet Connection (yoga journal)

By the time he met his teacher, K. Pattabhi Jois, Richard Freeman had practiced yoga for 19 years, visited several ashrams in India, and taught yoga to Iran's royal family. Less than a year after meeting the founder of Ashtanga Yoga, Freeman became the second Westerner certified by Jois to teach Ashtanga. Today, Freeman lives with his son, Gabriel, and his wife, Mary Taylor, in Boulder, Colorado, where they run The

Yoga Workshop.

How did you first come across yoga?

 When I was 18, I reread Henry David Thoreau'sWalden, which talks about the Bhagavad Gita. That led me to [Ralph Waldo] Emerson and the Upanishads. My family was uneasy with the fact that I was studying even Western philosophy, because it's possibly the least useful in terms of a career. So without their blessing, I embarked on the yogic path at the Chicago Zen Center. Later I studied Iyengar Yoga, Sivananda Yoga, bhakti yoga, Tantra, and different Buddhist practices. It wasn't until 1987 that I discovered Ashtanga Yoga and met Pattabhi Jois.

What made you think "Yes! This man is my teacher"?

 When I went to one of his workshops in Montana, I could already do most asanas well. However, the way he linked them internally was interesting, because I was able to go into the midline of the body and into the nadis [energy channels]. We had a strong connection; this is where my previous studies really paid off. His English isn't very good, so we mostly talked asana in Sanskrit.

This wasn't the first time you worked with a cultural barrier. What were some of the challenges of teaching yoga in Iran? 
A friend invited me to teach at his studio there. For four years I taught yoga to the empress, the princes, and other members of the royal family. They were mostly Muslims with a strong conception about the Divine. I had to be very careful to not use terms that suggested I was trying to convert them or speak of idolatry and reincarnation. Working across cultures, I had to become honest with myself about what it is I actually know, what are theories or metaphors, and what is essential spiritual teaching and practice.

So what is essential?

  Meditation. It's focusing the mind on any pattern or thing that comes up. This mindfulness practice is something you could do as a Hindu, Christian, Jew, Muslim, or Buddhist. I enjoy quiet time. I go outside and contemplate insects, my dog's nose, the rabbits around here, or whatever presents itself. Everything is connected, and so I feel a natural affection for these things. My wife is a chef and does most of the cooking, so I make washing the dishes my meditation. I pay close attention to my breath and what I'm doing.

How has fatherhood changed your practice? 

It's been enlightening. I had to let go of some poses and studies a bit; as a father you deal with moments of crisis, which can happen at any time. My practice is more internal now—I might have time just to sit down and do a tiny little Pranayama. Still, there's no other medium that's quite as potent as raising a child with someone to either drive you crazy or open up your heart and mind to compassion to yourself and others.

Pada Bandha by Mark Stephens

With twenty-six bones that form twenty-five joints, twenty muscles, and a variety of tendons and ligaments, the feet are certainly complex. This complexity is related to their role, which is to support the entire body with a dynamic foundation that allows us to stand, walk, run, and have stability and mobility in life. In yoga

they are the principal foundation for all the standing poses and active in all inversions and arm balances, most back-bends and forward bends, and many twists and hip openers. Meanwhile they are also subjected to almost constant stress, ironically one of the greatest stresses today coming from a simple tool originally designed to protect them: shoes. Giving close attention to our feet—getting them strong, flexible, balanced, aligned, rooted, and resilient—is a basic starting point for building or guiding practically any yoga practice, including seated meditation.

In order to support the weight of the body, the tarsal and metatarsal bones are constructed into a series of arches. The familiar medial arch is one of two longitudinal arches (the other is called the lateral arch). Due to its height and the large number of small joints between its component parts, the medial arch is relatively more elastic than the other arches, gaining additional support from the tibialis posterior and peroneus longus muscles from above. The lateral arch possesses a special locking mechanism, allowing much more limited movement. In addition to the longitudinal arches, there are a series of transverse arches. At the posterior part of the metatarsals and the anterior part of the tarsus these arches are complete, but in the middle of the tarsus they present more the characters of half-domes, the concavities of which are directed inferiorly and medially, so that when the inner edges of the feet are placed together and the feet firmly rooted down, a complete tarsal dome is formed. When this action is combined with the awakening of the longitudinal arches, we create pada bandha, which is a key to stability in all standing poses (and a key source of mula bandha).

However, the feet do not stand alone, even in Tadasana, nor do they independently support movement. Activation of the feet begins in the legs as we run lines of energy from the top of our femur bones down through our feet. This creates a “rebounding effect.” Imagine the feeling of being heavier when riding up in an elevator, or lighter when riding down. The pressure of the elevator floor up against your feet not only makes you feel heavier, it has the effect of causing the muscles in your legs to engage more strongly. Similarly, when you intentionally root down from the tops of your thighbones down into your feet, the muscles in your calves and thighs engage. This not only creates the upward pull on the arches of pada bandha (primarily from the stirrup-like effect of activating the tibialis posterior and peroneus longusmuscles) but creates expansion through the joints and a sense of being more firmly grounded yet resilient in your feet while longer and lighter up through your body.

Ashtanga 2nd Series with Sri K. Pattabhi Jois - Solana Beach, CA '89

Ashtanga vinyasa practice advanced A fragmentos grabados en el centro Biorritmes de Tarragona

Sanskrit Terminology from the book Vinyasa Krama by Matthew Sweeney

The Indian Sanskrit language is a logical and straightforward system and the naming of asana even more so. When a body part is used in a name, it reflects in most rudimentary terms what is to be done with that part of

Toni Romero, Eka pada Rajakapotasana

the body. For example. hasta padangustasana, hands and toes posture (literally hands and foot-fingers). This tells you that you should be holding the big toes with your hands in some manner. When a sage is referred to in a posture it is named after him or for what that sage was renowned for. For example. marichyasana indicates one knee in an upright position each time. Marichi is the son of Brahma and his name
literally means ‘ray of light. ' By imitating a sage or Rishi (enlightened sage) you are aspiring to his or her divine qualities.
Animal names are often used as visual inspiration. By imitating an animal in a posture it is intended that you
experience some exceptional aspect of that particular creature: the lightness of a bird, the flexibility of a monkey or the fierceness
of a crocodile. For example, the naming of kapotasana, the pigeon, reflects the position of the arms and chest. Both of the elbows tend to be pointed like the beak of the pigeon with the chest sticking out like a pigeon’s breast . These postures resemble a pigeon's ability to swivel its head into seemingly impossible backward angles.[...]
It is important to learn the traditional Sanskrit names of the postures and what they mean. The system of Yoga is culturally Indian, and despite the current Western influence. the full impact of the spirituality of Yoga is difficult to grasp unless this culture is embraced in some way. In my experience, learning some of the basic terms adds an insightful and devotional quality to the practice. In the visual risana library of this book all of the names for the postures and their variations are provided. including a description ofthe great sages, saints and gods invoked by many of the postures.

Richard Freeman video library

Some asana in the beach

Yoga Taravali&Yoga Sutras sanskrit audio

Food for intense ashtanga practice by Anthony Gary Lopedota

http://ashtangayogatherapy.wordpress.com/2013/10/21/food-for-intense-ashtanga-practice/

Finding Mula Bandha. ~ Toni Romero

That which is the root of all beings,
that root which bonds all of the mind
(all thought and experience)
That is , which should always be servedattended to) and which is fit for rajayogins.

Ganesha Lord of Mula Bandha

~ Sri Shankaracharya

Mula bandha is the gate that moves from the physical to the subtle.

Learning to understand all of this intelligence takes many years. These simple notes are the result of learning from several sources and daily practice. With all the humility, I hope it will be useful to people who read it.

The first point is try to create mula bandha in the physical sense. Hatha Yoga Pradipika and other classical texts define mula bandha as heel pressure directly on the perineum.

Positions like siddhasana are a good starting point to begin to feel the area between the genitals and anus (pelvic floor). The intention is to create a tension in that muscle group and lift it upwards as if it were a flame that lights just that intermediate point and rises. At the beginning, it is near impossible; it is almost instinctive and easier contract the anus (Aswini mudra).

To distinguish different muscle tones, it is recommended to practice Kegel exercises in which you are using what is called the pubococcygeus (PC) muscle. It is the muscle used when the action of urination is interrupted. This allows us define two starting points from the front and back (PC muscle and anus). If we try to visualize a rhomb in this area and add the left and right buttock, then we have four corners that draw the gross surface where the pelvic floor is contracted.

To put mula bandha into practice at first, the recommendation is to contract the three points and try to visualize the left and right gluts coming together into a compact group of muscles. Once you locate the point in between the anus and the genitals, there is an interesting lack of tension in the anus. When you feel mula bandha, the apana is drawn upwards.

Prana vayu and apana vayu are two of the five types of vayu that form the Prana, which is translates to vital energy. As prana vayu moves up into the chest area, the seed point is at the center of the chest. When you take a maximum inhale, the chest expands and grows. This is the most pranic stage of the breath.

Apana vayu moves down the lower body. The seed point is in the center of the pelvic floor. Precisely as you exhale, contract your abdominal muscles while the chest is closed. Prana is like flying in the sky and apana is like a root in the earth. This is the importance of mula (root) bandha (seal). Their function is to reverse the movement of apana and ascend upward. Thus the height of the pubic bone and the prana apana are pressed into each other.

Some versions say that heat kills kundalini and releases it into the entrance of the central nadi (sushumna). Then prana can rise freely and lead Shakti (creative energy) to join the universal consciousness Shiva. There are several variations of the process, depending on different lineages, which I will not extend at this point as it is a very extensive subject.

A good way to feel the contraction that occurs in the pelvic floor when turning to prana and apana is to try exhaling completely, keeping the chest open to maintain the residual quality of inhalation (postural and energetically). During the exhale, reach the point of expelling the air until there is one final breath through the nose. Make a “puff” sound (like Richard Freeman explain in his pranayama course). At that time, if you direct your attention with great delicacy and practice, you will feel a slight contraction between the anus and genitals. Try to keep that soft and subtle tone when inhaling, maintaining residual quality of the out breath in the inhalation. Bring the attention of inhalation as a thin flame that comes from the pelvic floor and rises through Sushumna Nadi.

Other devotees offer as sacrifice the incoming breath of prana in the outgoing breath of apana, and the outgoing breath of apana in the incoming breath of prana, thus arresting the cause of inhalation and exhalation by intent practice of pranayama .

~ The Bhagavad Gita IV:29

The second stage of mula bandha, which Ashtanga Yoga is calling “uddiyana bandha” (not to be confused with uddiyana bandha kriya), is possible during full exhalation retention (bahya Kumbhaka). It is the prolongation of mula bandha. There is a slight backward retraction of the abdominal wall, but only around the pubic bone. Above the diaphragm, there should be complete freedom to go up and down. In other words, when inhaling and exhaling, the belly is steady, the lower back is lifted and the upper abdomen is soft. This mini contraction is maintained throughout the respiratory cycle. An easy way to see the proper application of the mula and uddiyana bandha is to verify the pelvic floor and abdominal area above the pubic bone because it is very difficult to contract one without the other responding.

Since the abdominal muscle tone is much easier to manipulate at first, it is very useful to start some exercises to help you feel the contraction that produces mula bandha. Sit in padmasana (this is ideal because the entire lower pelvic floor and tailbone connects with the ground) while maintaining a firm stance with your back straight. Situate some chopsticks or fingertips to the level of the pelvis and feel the inhale in the abdominal area as it is retracted backwards while the imaginary buttocks are brought downwards. Then exhale completely and expel the last “puff” of air described above. It is easy to manipulate the bandhas.

If some people cannot sit in padmasana, another exercise is to lie down and then bend the legs, bringing the fingertips to the abdominal wall. Try to feel the retraction above the pubic bone as the pelvic floor contraction synchronizes with the breath.

Another useful practice is uddiyana bandha kriya, which is when all of the muscles are sucked back and up. The strength created by the internal vacuum makes it very easy to feel like the pelvic tissue is brought up.

Spanish version
article in elephant journal

Padmasana: Right Leg First (Ashtanga Yoga, Practice & Philosophy by Gregor Maehle )

“Why is Padmasana traditionally done only by first placing the right leg and then bringing the left leg on

top? When asked this question, K. Pattabhi Jois quoted the Yoga Shastra as saying,: "Right side first and left

leg on top purifies the liver and spleen. Left leg first is of no use at all." He also explained that the lotus done

in this way stimulates insulin production.

Contemporary teachers have suggested performing Padmasana on both sides to balance the body. Improving

the symmetry of the body is achieved through the standing postures. However, the postures that strongly

influence the abdominal and thoracic cavities, such as Padmasana, Kurmasana, Dvi Pada Shirshasana, and

Pashasana, do not have the function of making the body symmetrical, but of accommodating the asymmetry

of the abdominal and thoracic organs. To accommodate the fact that the liver is on the right side of the

abdominal cavity and the spleen is on the left, the right leg is first placed into position with the left leg on

top. As leg-behind-the-head postures develop the chest, to place the left leg first in Kurmasana (turtle)

accommodates the fact that the heart is predominantly in the left side of the thoracic cavity.

Putting the left leg 1st in leg behind the head postures will correct any imbalances in the hips acquired from

right leg 1st in Lotus. As far as standing postures, it is a good idea to initiate from both sides. Generally the

first side will be held longer in class. Sometimes dramatically longer. This will create imbalance throughout

the entire body.”