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Just a few years ago, I made a decision that I needed a project. I used to be itching to learn something recent, something that may challenge me. It had been just a few years since I had begun practicing yoga somewhat consistently, and I used to be having fun with the combo of vinyasa, yin, and hot yoga classes that I used to be taking at my local studio. But I wanted more structure and consistency so I might give you the option to look at my progress over time.

Enter ashtanga: a decidedly structured type of yoga comprised of a vigorous sequence of postures which can be practiced in the identical way, in the identical order, each time. Because of the net teachings of Richard and Mary Freeman, I learned the ashtanga primary series in my basement throughout the 2020 lockdown. The videos deal with constructing familiarity with each pose little by little through repetition. I can’t say it was probably the most thrilling yoga program I’ve ever undertaken, however it is the one which has had probably the most significant long-term impact on me.

As I got into the habit of practicing more often, the predictability and repetition of the poses began to represent stability at a time in my life otherwise marked by chaos. If I could carve out a small measure of control on my mat, I discovered, it could go a good distance toward helping me feel grounded.

I distinctly remember a moment just a few days after a deeply upsetting event by which someone I knew suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. At that moment, practicing ashtanga appeared like the last item that I had the mental and emotional strength and space for. Yet after just a few days, against the overwhelming urge to remain curled up on the sofa, I made a decision to try. I pulled myself up, rolled out my mat, and set about practicing the series.

Amazingly, I started to feel a level of connection to myself and a transparent presence within the moment that I had never felt before. Flowing through the familiar rhythm, with nothing however the sound of my breath to guide me, I used to be in a position to access my suffering and the reckoning with what had happened. A surreal sense of unbelievable gratitude washed over me as I understood that I used to be alive. I used to be there in that cramped kitchen with my mat wedged between the tiny table and the fridge, moving and respiratory, existing on this tenuous state of being that we take a lot with no consideration. I had never contemplated nor fully recognized the depth of that reality until I stood on my mat that day.

I can be lying if I said that I’ve begun every yoga session since that day with ecstatic ease and never needed to motivate myself to practice. There has, actually, been a variety of negotiating, dragging, and avoidance that I even have sometimes given into. I mean, it’s hard to be physically and mentally disciplined.

But irrespective of how much coaxing and cajoling is required to bring myself to the practice, I all the time feel higher afterward.

7 Things I Learned From Practicing Ashtanga Yoga

In my experience, ashtanga just isn’t a simple type of yoga to start and stick with. My journey began partly because I sought more control over my yoga practice. Nevertheless, all of the unexpected lessons and insights I even have received along the best way have reinforced the futility of my efforts for control.

Ashtanga has been something I even have found to be like a mystery that reveals itself just a little more each time I practice, and subsequently just a little more of myself is revealed to me each time as well. My relationship to it through the teachings I even have learned has morphed and shifted within the years since I began. Listed below are among the biggest things I’ve learned along the best way.

1. Ashtanga just isn’t a lot about learning the poses, but what you study yourself from doing the poses.

The practice of ashtanga will test your limits and confront you with yourself. You’ll discover your strengths and weaknesses and learn to just accept yourself exactly where you might be in any moment.

You’ll come head to head together with your ego and learn to maintain it in check. One among the ways this happens is by trying too hard. For those who push yourself too far past what’s the correct expression of a pose for you at that moment, chances are you’ll reach past your limits and injure yourself.

The practice of ashtanga permits you to challenge yourself and to grow to be comfortable with what works for you. (Photo: Counter | Getty)

I learned this the hard way by overextending myself after which eventually having to tug back and adjust after I noticed pain and irritation. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’re overdoing something until it starts manifesting as discomfort, at which point you’re presented with a fantastic opportunity to learn more about your body and what it needs moving forward.

It may not manifest as a right away injury, but when you proceed to practice a pose with improper form, you’ll feel that imbalance over time. That is true in all types of yoga, but attributable to the repetitive nature of the movements, ashtanga is an especially potent solution to learn this lesson. If you’ve gotten improper form in your Chaturanga and are frequently practicing it the 60 times that the first series has, it won’t be long before you start to feel it.

With practice, you learn to prioritize what your body actually needs, and also you grow to be less attached to what you’re thinking that it is advisable do to measure as much as an external standard.

2. It will possibly enable you reshape a punitive relationship to exercise. 

Our contemporary exercise culture is inundated with messaging around pushing yourself to the limit. It also has a powerful emphasis on image, whether that takes the form of the way you look or what you possibly can do.

With ashtanga, the potential for injury when you push yourself too far serves a vital purpose. It creates a natural barrier to overstriding to be able to reach a certain ideal of performance, even when you’ve gotten to experience the adversarial effects of sidling as much as that barrier before realizing it is advisable back off.

The concept I hear from a variety of teachers is to seek out a level of “comfortable striving” within the pose—the concept that you’re putting forth effort but not trying too hard. While it took a while for me to grasp what this actually means, it has guided me to seek out probably the most nourishing shape for my body in each pose, which then allows me to access deeper and more releasing expressions over time.

The extent of care and a spotlight you will need to exercise to practice the series in a protected and therapeutic way has the potential to positively influence your relationship together with your body. You grow to be more focused on what feels good and what you possibly can actually do comfortably, versus what the person on the mat next to you or in your Instagram feed is doing.

3. The way you practice a pose will look different than how another person practices it.

The best way chances are you’ll see an experienced practitioner move through the poses just isn’t the one “right” way. I’ve learned that the proper way for me to experience a pose means I’m not pushing past my limits. I can someway find the effortlessness inside the effort.

As with every type of yoga, ashtanga has the potential to be therapeutic to the body and mind, but only whether it is approached with an accepting and compassionate mindset.

If a pose doesn’t feel right, you don’t should perform it the best way you see it demonstrated. You may work with a teacher on an adjustment. That doesn’t mean you’re not doing the practice appropriately, it just means that you simply’re tuned in to your body and prioritizing that over attempting to appease your ego.

4. Let yourself profit from the assistance of a teacher.

It’s price going to class in person every every now and then since you’ll likely receive insightful feedback and adjustments in your form.

This was something I missed out on by starting my practice at home. Shortly after starting my practice, I noticed a pinching feeling in my shoulder. I sought out the expertise of a teacher and she or he helped me understand that I used to be overloading my body with all of the Chaturangas when my muscles weren’t strong enough yet to bear a lot weight so repetitively.

My teacher really useful that I do more knees-chest-chin modifications, and the shoulder pain went away. Over time I used to be in a position to start adding back in the complete Chaturangas.

Even with excellent online classes, and not using a trained eye helping you understand how proper form is purported to feel in your body, it’s easy to start out practicing poses improperly.

Ashtanga yoga is an intensely personal practice, yet it also brings the advantages of community. (Photo: Counter | Getty)

5. Practicing with others can assist shape your relationship with Ashtanga

Going to a studio where I feel comfortable and have access to implausible teachers and familiar faces has helped me construct a way of community around my practice. This has added one other level of dimension and intending to it.

I’m currently traveling across South America, and although I’m unable to keep on with one studio long run, visiting studios in several countries and cities has been a fantastic solution to profit from different teachers’ perspectives.

6. You’ll find a solution to make ashtanga sustainable for you.

Ashtanga, in probably the most traditional sense, requires a certain quantity of dedication and adherence to routine and rules. It takes about 90 minutes to finish the first series and the approach typically recommends practicing six days per week, aside from Saturdays and throughout the recent and full Moons.

Regardless that I started practicing ashtanga because I craved structure and control, it initially felt pretty overwhelming. I discovered myself beginning to postpone my practice due to my “all or nothing” mindset. If I didn’t have enough time to practice the complete series, or if it just felt too daunting that day, often I might not practice in any respect.

Once I was honest with my teacher about this, she suggested I practice just the opening Sun Salutations and ending sequence, which all together takes about half-hour. This helped me integrate the practice into my life in a more consistent way.

I’ve learned to mold the practice to suit my life fairly than adhering to what tradition mandates. Others may find a variety of achievement within the latter—9 pm bedtimes and all! But sooner or later in my ashtanga journey, I noticed I needed to tune out the noise of how other people think it needs to be done.

This was an exercise in learning to respect and appreciate what I could do and desired to do, as an alternative of only seeing the worth in total completion in perfect accordance with the tradition. Today, I alternate my practice days with weight training and mountain climbing, two other movement practices that bring me joy and by which I find great meaning and achievement. I not feel an inflexible attachment to how things have to be with my practice, and this has created space to seek out a recent level of enjoyment and achievement in it.

Some teachers insist that the series have to be practiced a certain way and have to be followed to a T, while others have a more relaxed approach. I’ve realized that even the “T” itself varies from teacher to teacher. I learned that it’s best to take heed to and consider different perspectives, while also asking myself what feels right for me. I can learn from teachers and the tradition itself, but I’ve come to grasp that the true yoga comes from practicing in a way that meets me where I’m.

7. Let go of perfectionism.

While ashtanga could appear to have a serious and structured attitude around it, it really should bring you joy and achievement. If it starts feeling like nothing greater than an obligation, perhaps it’s time to rethink your approach and consider how you possibly can bring more lightness and fun into your practice. Try to depart space for laughter and surprise, and see your practice as a time to play with movement.

I even have learned that I don’t have to practice in the identical way each time and even all through the first series. Perhaps sooner or later I feel like stopping at Bhujapidasana and spending some time twiddling with that movement, after which just skipping to the ending poses as an alternative of completing your complete series.

Or perhaps I feel like devoting a variety of attention to the subtle mechanisms of my jump-backs and taking extra breaths there, resulting in a slower pace than what you’ll follow in a led class where the teacher calls the count.

For that reason, I like Mysore (practicing at your personal pace in a category environment) and residential practice quite a bit because they offer me all the liberty to linger, savor, and experiment.

For me, the practice is an ongoing experiment. What is going to my body and mind allow for today? Movements I’ve been working on for months with seemingly no progress will swiftly occur almost effortlessly, with none obvious explanation or change of technique. It’s a mind-body conversation at its most nuanced form, and it’s a reasonably fascinating process to look at.

Ashtanga has the potential to be a robust opportunity for growth since it attracts perfectionists after which shows them the futility of perfectionism. It has humbled me and has challenged me to like myself as I’m. The practice has helped me through difficult times and jogged my memory just how fortunate I’m to have this body and this breath. Above all, ashtanga has taught me that flexibility of mind is much more vital than physical flexibility, and that insight has been the best gift of all.

About Our Contributor
Olivia James is a Colorado-based author, an avid yoga practitioner, and solo world traveler. Having grown up in Asia, she was bitten by the travel bug at an early age and has devoted her life to experiencing the world and learning from it. She is particularly keen on writing about themes related to wellness, global cultures, foreign affairs, and the outside. You may follow her travels on her blog.