Day 2: Crow Pose
Imagine balancing the weight of your knees and your entire body just slightly above your elbows. This is crow pose. There is a variation of crow that one must do before you literally jump into chautranga. I struggle with the simplicity of chautaranga, let alone doing an even more difficult pose to ease my way into the bane of my existence. One of my goals for the past several years is to do chautranga, almost a mere push up. But this new twist makes chautranga feel like a resting posture.
My Saturday morning class was taught by a younger blonde guy. I wondered if he was a substitute instructor, or just got his yoga 200 hour teaching certificate. I was surprised as he began talking that he was British, it added more respect and worldliness to his 21 year old Midwestern college boy look. In the beginning of the class as we stood in tadasana (mountain pose), with our eyes closed, he gave us instructions to “make a wish.”
This was supposed to be a moment of stillness, but my mind ran rampant with wishes. I wish I could do chautaranga, a headstand, and can do this yoga teacher training. I wish it all works out. Then I started going crazy with my wishes. It seemed as if he gave us a whole minute to conjure our wish in tadasana. How simple this command was, but how freeing. If a teacher has you offer up your practice generally it’s to something universal, like world peace, your ancestors, or a recent international tragedy. But today, it was up to me. That prolonged moment of silence was followed by an intense sixty minute arm strength and balance workout. This was not relaxing or freeing, as I continued to look at the clock throughout the class. Get me out of here.
My self conciousness was heightened each time we tried to do crow, and then chautaranga. This was so out of my reach. When I attended classes at 24 hour fitness, an instructor might push you to do this asana once. Maybe there was one student in the class that do the pose briefly. Today in this official yoga studio, it seemed as if at least 75% of the class was doing these advanced poses. Nobody was laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. I did not even want to try to attempt some of these positions.
I began to wonder why did I attend this class? It was only a level 2, but felt like it should be advertised as a level 10. I looked around the room, everyone seemed to have expensive yoga mats. I think mine was the only one that was less than $10. This middle aged woman next to me later was doing these arm balances that could top any 1980’s breakdancer. Her strength was amazing. I didn’t want to crawl into child’s pose, so I did the visual of attempting these challenges. But my heart wasn’t in it. I feared falling, and I feared breaking some bone I didn’t know existed or falling on my face.
The whole class was filled with more of what I wished for: practices of chautaranga and even headstands. I can do headstands against a wall for support but rarely have the chance to do them in class. Instructors generally opt for other inversions. I slowly tried to move my feet away from the wall and for 2 seconds, I’m in a free standing headstand, before my feet hit the wall again.
The never ending class continued with more awkward moments, we had to spot someone in doing a full wheel, better known as backbend. I hate these moments having to spot a stranger. A 40 something black woman with dreads was my partner. Her mat was in front of mine, and I noticed she could do these arm balancing poses without fear. I wondered how long she had been attending these classes. As instructed, I held onto her legs as I pulled up into bridge. It was awkward, I could feel her prickly hairs as if she has yet to shave, and I had to pull harder on her ankles to pull myself up for 5-8 breaths.
Then it was my turn to spot. I’m not strong, I just didn’t want to drop her. As she lifted herself up, I got a peak of her unshaven armpit hairs. This is not an everyday experience, especially by someone of another ethnicity. It was as if she had afros growing out of her pits. But I had to focus on spotting her into a full wheel. And I did. The awkwardness subsided as the exercise ended. “Have you gone to his class before?” I asked. “”Oh, ya, I try to go to his one in Southbay, but I try to catch him here when I can. I began to wonder how people subject themselves to this kind of torture repeatedly seeking it out, and following his itinerary throughout LA on a weekly basis . My new hairy friend said “his classes are usually pretty tough.” I appreciated her openness, as I wasn’t the only one who thought this was outside the normal yoga class.
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