Back to the Mat

The operation to remove the ten-ton tumour from my stomach had brought my body to its knees. But it was the six weeks spent flat on my back in recovery afterwards that totally sky rocketed me out of my mind.

Why had this happened to me? What sort of karmic crime had I committed to merit such a supersized sandwich of bullshit?  Was there some greater cosmic purpose to this unfortunate turn of events? If there was, then I just wasn’t seeing it. None of it made any sense.

So five weeks ago, I decided enough was enough. It was time to scrape myself off the sofa. And so with Bambi-like dexterity, I wobbled back out into the sunlight and headed to the one place where I knew I would find answers.

My yoga mat.

I’d heard about a school called Abhinam yoga that had recently been set up by a doctor called Namito Rakesh. Namito had been the personal physician to one of the world’s most acclaimed yoga guru’s, BKS Iyengar. During his time at the great master’s Pune Institute, he had developed a distinct medical approach to the practice. An approach that Iyengar himself had hailed a triumph. I figured if Namito was good enough for Iyengar (aged 95 and still busting some pretty spectacular moves), then he was good enough for me.

I signed up to the Teacher Training course immediately.

And so began a journey.

During the first week, I mainly learnt to cry…produce mucus...and shit…a lot. We were being taught the Kriya’s – ancient cleansing techniques which involve a series of strenuous breathing and abdominal exercises. They are designed to purge the body and mind of toxins. And boy, did they do the trick! I was reduced to a smelly, snivelling, dribbling mess.

I felt dreadful.

It was at this point that I began to foster a supreme dislike for ‘Doctor’ Namito. I mean, what godforsaken yoga was this man teaching? I wanted to quit. But with assurances that there was a method to this madness, I hung on in there.

By the end of week two, I felt even worse.

We had finally started our Asana practice. But it hadn’t gone well. For the first few days Namito had my fellow students and I performing these ludicrously difficult sequences of backbends, handstands and one-armed press-ups. I hadn’t yet fully recovered from my surgery and he’d given me this to do?

I wanted to die. I wanted to take Namito with me. And I wasn’t alone.

But then half way through this second week, the gears suddenly changed. We went right back to basics. We’d spend entire afternoons in Samasthiti (standing pose…literally…standing) or in Uttitha Hastasana, Intense Arm Pose (still standing…but with our arms over our heads). Yet as simple of these asanas were, Namito wasn’t satisfied. As far as he was concerned, I was inept. My alignment was totally off, my back was horribly rounded and my performance was clumsy and graceless. In just under a week this man had managed to comprehensively consign everything I’d learnt in my 15 years of practice to the trash heap.

I wanted to punch myself in the face. And kick Namito somewhere pertinent, below the waistline. Hard.

Fantasy sucker punches aside, this was a watershed moment. I began to realise that my performance in these postures was telling me something important about the imbalances I was feeling in my life. My Quasimodo posture was a symbol of my tendency to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. My flat feet demonstrated a failure to stand tall and proud. The tumour in my stomach? I came to realise that even this was rooted in years of negative thinking – it was nothing but a ball of toxic emotions.

Suddenly the penny dropped.

As Namito lead us further into our studies, furnishing our practice with a firm understanding of yoga philosophy, anatomy, physiology and the bio-mechanics of the body, everything started to fall into place. My body and mind were becoming aligned. A greater awareness was beginning to emerge.

Today, the psychotic she-devil that once ruled my world has been toppled from her throne. And the blood-sucking sack of shit that had been growing in my abdomen has been replaced by something new. I’m not sure what it is exactly. But damn, I’m feeling good!