Posts Tagged ‘bus’
YOGA IS MY BUS (continued)
The journey that requires me to travel within myself has not yet ended. I am still on this bus called Yoga and I do not know if and when I an going to get off. I still do not know what I contain, but I am hoping that Yoga will help me find the answer.
YOGA IS MY BUS (continued)
My relationship with Ferguson
The question is not who is Ferguson. The question is what is Ferguson.
Ferguson, whose name I just recently learned, is the plant stationed in the window sill of Rina’s studio. In a way, Ferguson and I have developed this platonic and seemingly one-sided relationship, i.e., I look at Ferguson and Ferguson just sits there being itself, a plant.
Earlier on, I was told not to close my eyes while doing an asana as it is necessary to focus my eyes on a reference point in order to get into and sustain an asana. On many occasions, Ferguson enables me to get into and sustain an asana at it is my reference point.
YOGA IS MY BUS (continued)
On total exhaustion and the inner strength to move on
Each Yoga class lasts for an hour and fifteen minutes. Yoga classes are offered three times a week. Depending on the lessons for that day and on the pace of the teacher, the students could be made to do twenty or more poses in each class. On the weeks when the classes are devoted to standing poses, I sometimes wonder how I could survive the class with the number of poses we are made to do.
Once in a while, intensive classes are offered. The last time I joined those intensive classes, I went to class everyday for five straight days. Those classes lasted two hours per session. During those classes, I was made to do new poses. That time was also hell week for me at work. I would work until 5:30 p.m., attend Yoga class from 6:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m., go back to work after, work until 2:00 p.m., go home and be back at work by 9:00 a.m. the next day. (more…)
YOGA IS MY BUS (continued)
On learning compassion
After the Toul Sleng Genocide Museum experience, I was greatly disturbed by the idea that people are capable of committing such atrocious acts that bring untold suffering to others. To this day, I cannot accept that people could be innately evil. To somehow understand why it is that the torture at Toul Sleng took place, I told my friend Simon that those who cause suffering probably did not understand what it felt like to experience pain. Consequently, the child torturers did not realize the extent of the hurt they caused others.
I am relieved to know that, in one of my Yoga classes, my theory was somehow validated.
At that class, Rina asked us to take a partner, bind that partner’s outstretched leg and step on the other leg that was bent. When Rina was demonstrating what to do, she repeatedly told us to be merciful to our partner. Of course, I was too distracted by the instructions about what to do to really understand what it is that Rina meant by being merciful.
I asked my Thai classmate, Ubon, to be my partner. Ubon was one of those naturally lithe and flexible girls who could get into most of the poses easily. Ubon got into the pose quickly, I bound her leg and stepped on the other leg that was bent. Until she frantically signaled for me to get off her leg, I paid no attention to how Ubon was doing. After all, the pose seemed like a piece of cake to her.
When it was my turn, Rina came over to help me get into the pose. Guess what? I could not even get into the pose. Just bending my leg was extremely painful. Rina did not even get to bind it. It was then that I realized that poor Ubon was probably in pain the whole time she was in the pose and I did not even know it.
Mercy or compassion literally means “to suffer with”. This presupposes that one understands the other’s suffering. In that Yoga class, I realized that it is impossible to be compassionate without knowing how the other is feeling. My experience with Ubon taught me the importance of placing myself in other’s shoes in order to be compassionate.
As the child torturers in Toul Sleng had no idea of the pain they had inflicted on the victims, they probably had no qualms about executing the acts of torture. I do not see how it is that they could have done those acts if they had know what suffering was like.
YOGA IS MY BUS (continued)
Aummmmmmmmm
Alya, one of my Yoga teachers, said that if the universe had a sound, it would probably be Om.
At the beginning of each Yoga class, we sit in sukhasana (similar to lotus-style sitting) with palms pressed together and thumbs resting on our sternum. With eyes closed and our minds emptied of everything except the here and now, we take a deep breath and on an an exhalation say “Om.”
Out of curiosity, I Googled, “Om” and was surprised to learn that, like Yoga, this two letter word with a three letter sound (”a”, “u”, “m”) has many nuances across many religions, philosophies and life practices. Reading about it got me all confused and made me doubt my gutt feelings about this word. I later realized that, it is best not to over analyze this word. Like Yoga, I think the best way to understand “Om” is to say it rather than to read about it. (more…)
YOGA IS MY BUS (continued)
How I got on this bus
About four years ago, I could not climb a flight of stairs without feeling like my lungs would explode. I felt lethargic and weak. After years of doing mostly paper work in front of a computer for at least ten hours a day seven days a week, sleeping no more than five hours a day and stress eating, my body was protesting from the abuse. I ignored my body’s protest until vanity took a hold of me. That was when I could no longer fit in my old clothes, i.e., I was fat.
So, I enrolled my vain self in a gym, paid the annual fee and went there about five times. At the gym, I would run on the treadmill for what seemed like hours (when in actuality I was only there for no more than ten minutes), drink a liter of the gym’s “free” ice tea and eat several bananas. After that, I figured that the gym was not for me.
Without putting much thought into it, I showed up at Rina Ortiz’s studio one day, joined my first Yoga class and immediately realized that I had no idea of what I was getting myself into. As the Pandora in me was curious, I hopped on this bus called Yoga and it has been one heck of a ride since then.
YOGA IS MY BUS
When I started practicing Yoga, I asked myself this question – “If Yoga is a jar, what would it contain?” Later, it dawned on me that that question is inappropriate. Instead, what I should have asked myself is this - “If Pandora is a jar, what would she contain?” But, I am getting ahead of myself.
Perhaps I should start by saying that there are some journeys that require us to travel deep within ourselves. These are the journeys where we expect to learn how far we could go and how much of ourselves we could share with others. In one of those journeys, Yoga is my bus. I don’t quite know where this bus will take me or if and when I will decide to get off. All I know is that this bus is moving, I am on it, and the destination is unknown.