I have now been in India for one week, and today was both the best and worst day I’ve had in terms of yoga. It was the best day because we had yet another amazing teacher and for me it was our first time in the same room. All of the teachers here are excellent, and this woman has certain qualities that make her shine. She is beautiful, confident, her smile is disarming, and she loves to yell and hit. In this last way she is not so unique. If you come to India to do yoga; tuck in your shirt, suck in your stomach and keep your knees and elbows straight. Or, be prepared to suffer the consequences. Today, I suffered quite a bit.
The irony, of course, is that I was having one of my best classes ever. I was moving faster than I thought possible, in ways that usually cause me crippling pain, and I was (or so I thought) keeping up with the class. I’d had my elbow pinched, my butt smacked, and comprehension questioned, but I didn’t feel altogether out of place. For the majority of my Indian classmates, the treatment is far worse. Minutes into Salamba Sirsasana (Headstand), however, it all came tumbling down.
I could not have been more proud of my accomplishment. I was upside down, free from the aid of the wall, and had remained there for a couple of minutes — 2-3 times as long as my previous record. My breath was steady, I felt the levity in my arms when I extended through my hips and feet, and I’d found a focal point on the floor that kept me from the distracting eyes of the woman across from me who was also upside down but showing no signs of wear. I came down because I still felt too much weight in my head, however, and my neck was beginning to hurt. I don’t really know how to hold my head in headstand, so this is generally my biggest problem. I also don’t use my arms in quite the right way, but I was working hard to improve that today. I’d been practicing the pose at home in preparation for this trip, but not enough, apparently, because my unimpressive performance drew the teacher over to my mat .
“Do you do yoga?” she asked. ”How often? Every day? No, not every day. You maybe should be in beginner’s class, not intermediate. How many year you do yoga? Off and on? Off and on? Yes, I think maybe you go on some yoga vacation (laughter murmers across the room). Maybe retreat? You should be in beginner class, this is wrong class for you. You have some medical problem? No or you would have told me. Join the class like everybody else. Go do shoulder stand on the big black mat. You are not alone. Okay? You understand me?” And of course she smiled as she berated me in front of 60 relative strangers. Still beautiful. Still disarming.
I did as I was told, and I’m not saying my spirit had been broken, but it was indeed badly bent.