108 Sun Salutations
Video of the Global Mala Project, with glimpses of the unattached one.
This past week I participated in the Global Mala Project – Yoga for Peace. The first time I particpated was the year before last, with my then yoga teacher and now friend, Mia Baer. It was in Central Park, and it started at around 8am in the morning, far earlier then what I was use to waking up on the weekends. I remember the excitement of it, and the challenge, could I really do 108 Sun Salutations? I also didn’t really know what the event was all about, having just learned about it a couple days ago during Mia’s class. It was grueling. My practice, was still in it’s beginnings, and after about 20 sequences, I could feel my wrists giving under the weight.
I remember catching glimpses of the yogis around me, wondering how they managed it so effortlessly. And looking admirably at Mia, as she gracefully interspersed her sequences with a bakasana (crow) here, and a down dog split there. I discovered 40 sequences later where my mis-alignments lay — it was inevitable, those areas WILL begin to tire, and correcting them. I had begun to cultivate a deeper body awareness, knowing where I was needlessly “wasting” energy with unnecessary (e.g. wrist) flourishes, and instead began to look where I placing my feet, and how I was rising to Warrior I.
Two years later, I’m at Battery Park — a 10 minute walk from home. This time, practicing at high noon, under the guidance of teachers from Jivamukti, Integral, and Dharma Mittra. Once again, I was surrounded by fellow yogis, who were born knowing how to do these sun salutations. But rather then envying their effortless salutations, I found myself admiring our effortless union, the global mandala.
This time, after 40 sequences I noticed how we as a group sank deeper into a meditative state, and moved as one under the lulling intonations of Dharma Mittra. I began to appreciate the meditative quality of repetition, and the intense concentration a group practice brings. Most of the time in class, I don’t focus on my connection with other classmates, just the opposite in fact. I “feel” their blanket encroaching on my space, how she’s placed her mat a little too close, and I’m more then just a little annoyed if they’re power-rushing their way through the practice. I think we’ve all experienced the type, they spring into downdog, pull themselves painfully forward in uttanasana, and kick up into headstand. I’m sure they existed on this sunny day, I’m sure they were practicing with me. But at long last, I finally didn’t care, and for the first time experienced the liberating joy of aparigraha (non-attachment) during practice.
