WHY I PRACTICE IYENGAR YOGA
by Drew Perry
When I first began to practice, I liked the physical work, but found that new or difficult poses were often accompanied by thoughts of resistance, confusion or conflict rather than the feelings of stillness I expected. For example, with new instructions, I would puzzle and wonder about them. What and where exactly are the sit bones? Why would I want to feel them? How can I possibly make my thigh bone longer? How can I make that thigh bone move independently from my pelvis? How can I relax the skin of my face if it's all I can do to maintain my balance? What do all these body parts have to do with a spiritual practice? And, when do we get to the spiritual part?
Over time, I came to appreciate that questions can arise from being deeply interested in what's happening and from a sense of wonder as well as from conflict or confusion. The act of questioning can be an important part of a regular practice. Questions can be felt as well as thought. Over time, the act of feeling the questions and of seeking the answers through practice became for me an essential part of the development and discovery of both the individual asanas and the practice as a whole.
In the effort to truly feel the sit bones, for example, I found that other qualities developed both intentionally and unintentionally. I learned how to discriminate one body part from another more and more finely, and how to feel imbalances internally. I discovered the means to adjust these imbalances, and learned how to be sensitive to the sensation of feelings; how to activate the various parts of the body independently, and how to distinguish specific muscles from bones and from skin. And then in the act of doing all these things - sometimes all at the same time - I came to realize that I have developed some other skills. I find an increased ability to focus more precisely, to sustain concentration longer, to be more patient and tolerant, to be more honest, to let go of at least some attachments, to be more forgiving with myself (and sometimes others), as well as more precise in my intentions and expectations.
These things are all living examples of the human spirit at work. As a result, the busy internal dialogue of other thoughts sometimes ceases for a while. I feel that the work in the asanas takes on, even briefly, a meditative quality. The stillness of the body in an asana is mirrored by a certain momentary stillness of mind. And there is peace.