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Yoga Down — Twist This Mess Around

From sissy gym class dropout to yoga monster.

“Downward Facing Dog,” calls Kay Wescott, my beloved yoga instructor. Like a dog doing its lazy waking stretch, she stands on all fours and stretches her front long, her body a sinuous inverted V.

I do my best to follow suit, spreading my fingers wide and pressing my butt into the air (now be respectful, that’s an ancient spiritual tradition). My spine is elongated and I press my heels down to the floor to stretch my hamstrings. I’m breathing harder now and the sweat is starting to drip from my face and pool between my hands. Breathe, I think. As part of my mind calms down with the meditative focus on my body’s exertions, another, not so quiet voice at the back of my mind moans “How long can this go on?”

“Dunmoon,” Kay calls. My mind is momentarily relieved to let go of that Down Dog pose. I bring my right foot between my hands into a “runner’s fan,” relax my left leg toward the floor, pressing my hips forward, then calmly bring my hands to my heart in a prayer position and breathe. All put together and perfect? As I’m ready, I clasp my hands together and reach them toward the ceiling, pressing my chest forward to gently arch my back into the beautiful curve of a crescent moon. I notice in the mirror that my beautiful moon is leaning just a little. “Okay yoga monsters, back in Down Dog,” cheers Kay. And so it goes through the hour: stretching, pressing, breathing, pushing, holding, focusing. A calm mind. Crying mind. Vain mind. Humble mind.

We saw yoga. Sun salutations on Good Morning America and Rosie O’Donnell. According to the statistics, as many as 12 million Americans do yoga. Forty percent of health and fitness centers offer hatha yoga. A recent search on Amazon.com pulls up more than 1,350 yoga books. And now Madonna. America is buzzing about yoga.

Celebrity interest in yoga has undoubtedly fueled the media. During the 70s Jeff Bridges, Ruth Buzzi, and Tom Smothers posed for the yoga text of Bikram Choudhury. In the 80s Sting and David Duchovny became devotees and Ali MacGraw released his own yoga video. During the ’90s Julia Roberts told In Style magazine about her yoga regimen, “I don’t want it to change my life. Just my butt.”

And, of course, in the 90s the former material girl herself, Madonna, got serious about her daily yoga practice. Her latest recording, Ray of Light, was deeply inspired by yoga teachings. She studied Sanskrit and chanting for one of the songs. In The Next Best Thing , co-starring openly gay dreamboat Rupert Everett, Madonna plays an Ashtanga yoga teacher (ashtanga is an advanced style of yoga requiring more strength and endurance than the better-known hatha yoga). A chance to pair up with Rupert–lord gracious, that’s more than enough spiritual inspiration to take up a serious yoga practice.

But aside from the hype and the heavy breathing, Westerners find yoga one of the most accessible and profound of the Eastern disciplines. Yoga translated from Sanskrit means “union” or “to yoke” together, the purpose of yoga is to “yoke” together the body and the mind; the more spiritual, esoteric, forms of yoga emphasize clearing the mind, calming the spirit and strengthening the body-mind connection. In India, there are various parts of the road that attract different personalities and spiritual temperaments. These control the intellect (raja), control the body (hatha), spiritual action (kriya), devotional action (karma), heartfelt devotion (bhakti), knowledge or wisdom (jnana), sexual ritual (tantra), sacred sounds ( mantra), and subtle energy or chakra (kundalini). Each member, or school, has centuries of sacred texts and teachers to draw from. One’s relationship to one’s mind and one’s body becomes a spiritual path.

1994 was the turning point in my relationship with my body. The previous year was stupid. I watched as my friend Michael Mosley’s body and life were ravaged by the last stages of AIDS. The Enchanted Garden, a business I co-owned, closed leaving me heavily in debt and physically and emotionally drained. Being one of those sissy and brainy kids at school, I hated gym class. In 35 years I rarely exercised my body. 1993 saw my muscles weaken, my breath shorten, and my weight mushroom to 316 pounds. I decided that drastic measures were needed.

I enrolled at The Lomi School in northern California. As a massage therapist, for years I have heard about Lomi Work, a synthesis of roleplaying, gestalt psychotherapy, polarity energy work, meditation, aikido and yoga. Ann Lasater, one of my massage mentors, is a Lomi partner. Her work and life demonstrated the profound effects that Lomi could have when applied with constant focus and attention. When she told me that Robert Hall, one of the school’s founders, was an openly gay man, I knew I wanted this job. I know of so few gay men who have dedicated their lives to spiritual transformation. To attend, I traveled to San Francisco one weekend a month for 11 months, plus went on a five-day residential retreat during the summer.

The first day of class began what would be our daily training routine. One hour of sitting meditation followed by an hour of yoga. As the 24 students were led through a series of yoga poses that first morning, I was the only one in the room who couldn’t do the poses. I knew I was no longer in Kansas, nor in Texas. Robert Hall, just turned 60, was radiant and wonderfully flexible. I knew he had something I desperately needed. That miss kid from high school decided to stick it out. Thus began my fascination with a 5,000-year-old discipline.

Flash forward, back to Kay’s yoga class. Kay leads us in The Crow, an advanced pose that challenges even her. Me, I groan audibly in frustration. I just can’t seem to get it. The idea is to squat forward, balancing your knees on your arms, and holding your whole body with your hands. Yes, I agree, it doesn’t sound possible, but I try, shifting my weight forward and teetering precariously on my hands and big toes. In the perfect world I would raise my feet in the air and balance gracefully, looking serenely into the mirrors ahead. In reality I huff and puff and my face is contorted from struggling. Kay encourages me to be patient and respect my body’s gifts and limitations this morning. She also reminds me that I am a big crow. I release my frustration and vow that this year I will rule The Crow. The Chinese say it is the year of the Dragon. I say it’s the year of the Crow!

It is the year 2000. My weight is down 35 pounds. Yoga became part of my three-part exercise program: aerobic, strength and flexibility. I walk, bike and climb stairs for aerobics; I weight train for strength; and practice yoga for strength and flexibility. In these six years, I have seen how yoga complements the body work that I give to clients and that I myself receive. The effects on the muscles and connective tissues are dramatic. I know my own posture is improved and I feel more graceful as I move through space. Thanks to the yoga asanas, or poses, I know I am more flexible.

Flexibility sounds relatively superficial–“Eh, so I can’t touch my toes, what does it really matter?” But it really reaches much deeper than that. The recent Yoga Journal said about flexibility:

“Even if you are active, your body will become dehydrated and stiff with age. By the time you become an adult, your tissues have lost about 15 percent of their moisture content, becoming less supple and more prone to injury. This normal tissue aging is distressingly similar to the process that turns animal skins into leather. Unless we stretch, we dry out and tan.”

Our bodies are a living matrix of tissue that connects bones, muscles, tendons. Yoga helps keep these connective tissues supple and vital. And since we know that the mind and the body are fundamentally intertwined–remember the “yoke”?–this yogic flexibility in our deep tissues plays out in our monkey minds. Robert Hall, my Lomi hero, teaches that the microscopic level of connective tissue is where our thoughts and our physical bodies come together. If thought patterns are fearful and contracting, the connective tissues will contract, which distorts the bearing of the skeleton. If the thought patterns are open and expansive, the connective tissue is fluid and flexible. The body remains balanced and balanced. Caroline Myss puts it this way, “Your biography becomes your biology.”

“Are you ready for that Corpse Pose?” Kay teases. “Lie on your back and do some long body stretches.” I roll my head from side to side a few times to allow it to find its natural resting place. I let my feet spread. I consciously scan and relax my body. This is the reward after an intense hour of breathing and stretching. As my body cools, I am aware of the peace I feel. My mind is finally focused and calm. My emotions are clearly on the surface of my consciousness. My spirit is grateful and soaring. Sure, I’m aware of other stresses in my body. And yet I am pleased with the progress I have made. Of whom I am in this brief moment of relaxation. Contented is the feeling that floats across the still surface of my mind. And this is the real reason I continue to practice yoga.

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