We can crank our asana practice in order to challenge the mind. We can push our bodies way past what our mind thinks is even possible with "mind over matter." We can use the body to help us experience that we are more than just a body. We climb mountains. We swim across the English Channel. We do extreme sports. We are Olympians. We do yoga and people take our pictures because we are defying the laws of gravity. We are defying the laws of what is "normal" range of motion in the body. We are contortionists. Hear us roar. And damn, we look good! And yes, we inspire transformation and hopefully give hope to the underdog, the normal person who wants to see the unimaginable physically manifested in a physical form.
If we use our asana practice to help us steady the mind, and we are able to leap tall buildings with a single "jump through," if we have reached what seems to be the end of the road with what is possible in the physical body, and we still aren't enlightened, then what tools do we have? Perhaps our physical body will take us deeper into the thought constructs of the mind by ways where it systematically or seemingly randomly breaks our ability and eventually our need to control our body as a way of helping cut to the chase and control the real beast - the mind. Perhaps physical ailments begin to surface, slowly, inch by inch, year by year, until the old gray mare ain't what she use to be and we blame it on age. But hey, we all look different at different ages, so that's off the table. Perhaps we can look at our bodies like a car. The harder and faster we drive, the more parts that may need replacing. I have a sister in law who turned 50. She wasn't much into exercise her whole life until the last couple of years and she is out there running 5Ks! 10Ks! Who knows how many more Ks? I used my body differently with dance, running, etc... and I walk. I walk because that's what I got left. For now anyway. Don't want to self impose a limit, but I might as well use myself as an example.
My point is, and yes, it's a slow boat here, what happens if we can no longer depend on the body to steady the mind? What if our control of our physical unit and our physical life starts slip slidin' away? Where is the mind then? Depending on our ability to adapt, comprehend, let go, see a bigger picture, will determine the intensity, or perceived intensity of the ride. As the body starts slip slidin', the mind keeps ridin'.
The asana of injury. Get over attachment to the physical body. Attachment to being able to control details of our external lives. Release attachment to steadying the mind from the steadiness of the body. The body we are accustomed to changes without our conscious choice. Then what? Does our mind fall apart? Or have we built capacity to roll with the unsteadiness of the physical. Not by holding on to what we know. Not by locking down. But by rolling. The body is sliding. Slide down that hill. Into what? Are we willing to find out? Are we willing to let go and find out? Maybe injury or other physical ailments are a way to help us. I know they are in fact. Then our mind starts to learn to stand on it's own 2 feet. From a place of greater lightness as it learns that control is a crazy way of helping us feel safe. And the only safety is that place deep inside the eye of the hurricane, which is beyond the elements, beyond even the mind. It is your Big S Self.
Ouchasana.
As Rod Stryker so cleanly puts it: "Ouch. Thank you." Hurts so good.
If we use our asana practice to help us steady the mind, and we are able to leap tall buildings with a single "jump through," if we have reached what seems to be the end of the road with what is possible in the physical body, and we still aren't enlightened, then what tools do we have? Perhaps our physical body will take us deeper into the thought constructs of the mind by ways where it systematically or seemingly randomly breaks our ability and eventually our need to control our body as a way of helping cut to the chase and control the real beast - the mind. Perhaps physical ailments begin to surface, slowly, inch by inch, year by year, until the old gray mare ain't what she use to be and we blame it on age. But hey, we all look different at different ages, so that's off the table. Perhaps we can look at our bodies like a car. The harder and faster we drive, the more parts that may need replacing. I have a sister in law who turned 50. She wasn't much into exercise her whole life until the last couple of years and she is out there running 5Ks! 10Ks! Who knows how many more Ks? I used my body differently with dance, running, etc... and I walk. I walk because that's what I got left. For now anyway. Don't want to self impose a limit, but I might as well use myself as an example.
My point is, and yes, it's a slow boat here, what happens if we can no longer depend on the body to steady the mind? What if our control of our physical unit and our physical life starts slip slidin' away? Where is the mind then? Depending on our ability to adapt, comprehend, let go, see a bigger picture, will determine the intensity, or perceived intensity of the ride. As the body starts slip slidin', the mind keeps ridin'.
The asana of injury. Get over attachment to the physical body. Attachment to being able to control details of our external lives. Release attachment to steadying the mind from the steadiness of the body. The body we are accustomed to changes without our conscious choice. Then what? Does our mind fall apart? Or have we built capacity to roll with the unsteadiness of the physical. Not by holding on to what we know. Not by locking down. But by rolling. The body is sliding. Slide down that hill. Into what? Are we willing to find out? Are we willing to let go and find out? Maybe injury or other physical ailments are a way to help us. I know they are in fact. Then our mind starts to learn to stand on it's own 2 feet. From a place of greater lightness as it learns that control is a crazy way of helping us feel safe. And the only safety is that place deep inside the eye of the hurricane, which is beyond the elements, beyond even the mind. It is your Big S Self.
Ouchasana.
As Rod Stryker so cleanly puts it: "Ouch. Thank you." Hurts so good.
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