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My Path Into Yoga
On pg. 33, line 18, of B K S Iyengar’s book “Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanajali” it states, “He [meaning the (Sadhaka: Aspirant)] has visions of perfected beings teachers and masters”.
The following is my path into yoga. The names and dates are left out since they are insignificant. Look closely and you should find something deeper then the story.
One morning, I was in a coffee shop working on my laptop. I looked up and standing in front of me was a Caucasian man in his mid fifties, wearing white baggy Indian attire with grey hair and beard measuring down to his mid section. A hippie, I thought. He was observing me. I had never seen him before. He said something. I just shrugged and went back to work. Seconds later I glanced up and he was gone. Eight o’clock in the morning and I was busy moving my tasks from the task bar into the calendar of my Microsoft Outlook. Few minutes later I heard “you look organized.” I turned around to see the hippie. I thought, my God this guy is outrageous he is being nosy. I was surprised and a little upset. I felt like my privacy was being violated before my day had even begun.
I turned off my laptop, rotated my chair, and faced him with an expression that said what do you want? He smiled and introduced himself. His name is Indian. Ok, some Indian wanna-be; a throw back from the Sixties. I love people; believe me I do. But that morning I had no time for anyone. Not even the interesting ones. I introduced myself and just stared at him. Then he said something which convinced me that he was mad. “You are going to teach Yoga,” he said. That was an impossible conclusion to draw since I didn’t take lessons at the time. I wanted to end the conversation as soon as possible. But before I could, he started to show me the “downward dog” yoga posture right there on the floor in front of everybody. Oh God, this guy is not only nosy but also embarrassing. I avoided saying anything, thinking that would be the best way to defuse a situation which was getting weirder by the minute. He gave me his number and invited me to a Buddhist Monastery.
I tucked the number away in a manner to indicate an interest. But really I did not care to follow his direction. He annoyed me. That night I kept seeing images of him while in a waking state. I felt this experience before with a few others that influenced my life. I realized I needed to call him. I called him within a few days. We made arrangements to meet at the monastery.
The Monastery
It was a decrepit yellow house on top of a hill. The front lawn was weed ridden, the paint was flaking, and a mural of some Indian deity was the only thing indicating this to be a monastery. The place ran on donations. When I walked in I saw roughly ten people kneeling, standing, or stretching quietly on a carpeted floor. Everyone was soft spoken. As the hour approached for practice the students started lining up. I followed and waited curiously.
The master walked in. He was a Japanese man in his mid forties with, once again, long hair. The straight black beard and hair hung to his mid section. Like the hippie he wore white loose clothing. Pictures of him on the wall at age 20 showed him with the same hair and clothing that he was wearing at 45. This did not seem like a fly by night master. He definitely looked and lived the part. I’m in the right place I thought. It all felt so spiritual. And I was in awe. We started with the sun salutation and the competitor in me took over. I was going to stretch further then anybody in that room even if it killed me. And it almost did. The lady next to me was back bending like there was no tomorrow. The master’s breath was so slow that it took two to three breaths of mine just to keep up. No one in the room made a sound. All moved in unison. It was so surreal. I gasped for breath while trying not to show it. How embarrassing! Everyone was quiet and relaxed. Adding to my embarrassment the students were 20 or more years my senior. The practice humbled me. I was ready to be a student.
On my third week I managed to keep up with the master’s breath. I almost exploded. When holding the breath I imagined white light moving from the center of my stomach into my limbs. Once finished I noticed my hands were drawn to my center. When I stepped out of the monastery to the car the light seemed brighter, the air felt extremely crisp, and my ears were very sensitive to sound. When starting the car minute sounds that I never processed could be heard from the engine. While driving everything seemed to move in slow motion. The speedometer said thirty-five miles per hour but my eyes saw everything as if it was ten or fifteen miles per hour. While pushing my foot against the gas pedal it was as if my foot was not just touching the pedal. My foot was touching all four tires and it could feel every pebble on the road. I somehow knew the car would run another three years. This answered my anxious question of how much longer this old thing would last. It was as if the car and I were fully integrated! There was no division between the inanimate and animate.
The experience with the car was one thing. But what followed I will never forget. I went into a parts store for my clunker. I found my part and took it to the counter. The cashier/owner started talking to me. It felt like I knew him. I don’t mean the details of his life. I knew his essence. And I knew why he was talking to me. The man was indirectly investigating my knowledge of parts. He wanted to see if he could overcharge me. But on that day he charged me the fair price. I knew buying from him again would be a bad idea.
The car and the parts store experience lasted nearly two hours. Throughout this whole time I just kept breathing. Over the next several months I went on to experience similar spiritual episodes at the monastery. But it was never with the same magnitude. These experiences were all an indication to me that yoga was more then just breathing and stretching. Although this is important it is only an aspect of the whole.
Teacher X
A few months after my experiences at the monastery I met a young, naive, and extremely proud girl. That was my first impression of teacher X. We met under unusual circumstances. A well known photographer hired us to work on an artistic depiction of yoga. Half an hour after meeting we were standing across one another naked. When I saw her nude body I almost went into shock and not because it was beautiful. What I saw was a reflection of myself in the female form.
She came from the Ashtanga Vinyasa system of Yoga. During the shoot she performed incredible yoga. It was inspiring to see how strong a woman can be. After leaving the studio I began seeing an image of teacher X. I assumed that what I was picking up was sexual interest. My life at the time did not allow this and so I tried ignoring the vision. What I kept seeing was stronger then any vision. Night after night I saw her in dreams. And during the day her image was constantly with me. The strength of this far exceeded what I experienced with the hippie and my guru whom I’ll mention later. After three days I concluded that answering the vision was the best solution.
I acquired a list of yoga studios from her area through the Internet. After the second call I looked at the list as a whole. I felt pulled to a studio name closer to the bottom. I called and it was her studio. I acquired her class schedule and just showed up. When I arrived she looked shocked. Obviously she was questioning my intentions. I never chase women down or do the stalker thing. I came to answer what I felt to be her call.
After practice I tried talking to her. I didn’t know what to say. Of course the situation was very strange. She gave her number, without my asking, and told me a day and time to call her. I called on that day and time and she blew me off. “Sorry I’m out the door, call tomorrow night”, she said. So I called again as she instructed. Once again she blew me off. “Please call me in four hours”. So I called four hours later. An answering machine picked up and I left my name and number. “Well this is a, teacher”, I thought. “She is supposed to be a person with good character, self control, and sincerity. I should not disturb her. She is obviously busy. There is nothing more to do. The vision has been answered”.
Over the next month I completely forgot about teacher X it was as if she had never existed. I was accomplishing my academic goals and life was beautiful. All of a sudden I had a dream of her. ..again. When I woke up that morning the image of her was once again there. It kept floating in and out throughout the day. I could not believe this. I resisted calling for three days. Then I gave in and called her. Again she blew me off. Then I forgot about her for another month. She showed up again in a dream followed by more visions in the waking state. The only way to make it go away was by answering the call. This went on like clock-work every 28 days or so for five months. The pattern was always the same. I would forget about her, followed by dreams, then visions in the waking state, resisting the urge to call then finally giving in only to be blown off. None of it made sense. It was as if there was this unseen third party force causing all of this.
I can’t even begin to explain how much energy this took. It was playing on my self esteem and I began to question my mental stability. Perhaps this is how obsession begins. One always wonders how. Maybe this is it I thought. I have become one of those weird guys. I consulted a Reiki teacher and he taught me how to block the visions. I practiced the techniques and like magic she was gone. Just like that it was finished. She was gone! Well for eight months only. We’ll come back to the significance of teacher X.
A Celibate Female Master
Three months after successfully blocking teacher X I started looking for a new flat mate. A flyer caught my eye. On the telephone she had a southern accent from Louisiana. Acquiring the directions from her was an uncoordinated effort.
The door opened to a lady in her mid forties. Her faces showed suspicion, a life hard lived, and believe it or not the longing for a man. There was a practice room equipped with mirrored walls, mats, and a Swiss Ball. She had been dedicating herself to the practice of Yoga and Tai Chi for twenty-five years. Her body looked slender with a well-sculpted back. When walking she glided with the hands swaying gently by the waist side. Her movements were graceful. Like a true lady she was beautiful and elegant. A southern belle as she would be called from her parts. But there was a stale edge to her spirit.
After showing me the house came the rules. "There are no conjugal visits allowed here, and meat is not to be cooked or stored within the house. The smell of meat gets stuck in the walls and I don’t like that. There is no heating in the house. Not even during the winter is the heating to be put on. Hot water is available for showering", she said all this with a strict but yet sour tone. This lady lived a hard life and she showed it. I chose not to live with her.
Two months after meeting this Southern Belle I ended up having a series of the most peculiar visions that kept directing me to the celibate master. I know I am being vague but it this is too personal to mention. After the third time I concluded that I had something to answer. I knew this was coming from somewhere higher. I knew I had a new teacher.
The lesson lasted thirteen and a half months. It was celibacy. When I came to her I was weeks away from embarking on a study abroad program. She challenged me to go celibate for three months. The driving force was much more then will power. Her spirit was with me the whole time. Even though she was eventually several thousand miles away our bond was unbreakable,. After three months I told her that I would do another three. After the sixth month I just kept going until the thirteenth month. This was the beginning of gaining greater control over my lower self. When the celibate master heard that my guru certified me she said that celibacy was a prerequisite for being a teacher.
After a year my spirit felt clean. At the same time I began to feel as if something in me was beginning to die. This did not feel natural. It was clear to see that the lessons to be learned within this relationship had passed. Moving on from my teacher meant breaking the celibacy.
The Call Of A Guru
During my study abroad program on my second month of celibacy I was approaching midterms. One night after studying I had a strange dream. I was teaching yoga to some twenty-five students. While standing in front of the class Teacher X walked in from the back, stood in front of the class, and started speaking on my behalf. I woke up that morning thinking what a weird dream. Me a Yoga teacher?
A few weeks after this dream I started seeing something. I started seeing an image of an Indian man. I was seeing his face from the hair line to just below the lower lip. This went on for three weeks. I have to go to India I thought. Don’t ask me how I knew this. Somehow what I saw was telling me where I was supposed to be. He looked like someone in his thirties but could very well be ten or more years older. In the vision, although a yogi, he is also capable in the martial realms.
A few months later I went to Kerala, India. While visiting my family I went searching for my next teacher. During every interview I studied the faces of the teachers. Around the sixth interview my cousin told me of a teacher that had been working privately with his uncle. He was called to my auntie’s house where he sat waiting for me in her home office. I walked in and sat across from him on the desk. As soon as I looked at him he said, “Hi my name is C. Rajasekharan Nair and I am a Yoga master”. Without his introduction I knew who he was. The face matched the vision I found my teacher!
The student teacher relationship between us began immediately. By the end of the first week he said, “you will come to teacher”. Oh no I thought not another strange yoga prophecy. I started recalling what the Hippie said. By the end of the second week he said with great enthusiasm, “you will come to teacher known all over the world and you will come to master. This I foresee. I will certify you”. He was beginning to worry me. It all seemed so silly. I did not want to teach yoga. The idea of being some guru figure just seemed ludicrous. The last thing I wanted to do was be one of “those guys”. Most in the yoga scene, at that time that, I came across had strange values. They seemed to be hyper organic anti-system people.
I accepted my Guru’s certification and letter of recommendation. As I collected the certificate I started recalling the latter Teacher X dream. Then it all began to make sense but I was still not accepting of this. I once did the teacher thing in Kung Fu and the whole idea/mystique was beyond me. To me it was just a hobby. Certainly not some career to pursue.
How It All Came Together
The annoying, anti system, hyper organic, hippie merely pointed the way. The Buddhist monk introduced me to slow, deep breathing in salutations along with the spiritual side of Yoga. Teacher X thought me that Yoga has a strong physical side. When I saw Teacher X perform I knew instinctually what I needed to do in order to heal / control certain chronic injuries. The celibate female master helped me gain further control of my lower self. This is the preliminary step to working in closed quarters with students. My Guru recognized and endorsed me, which is why I am in your lives.
My style is a combination of an adapted salutation I learned from Teacher X coupled with the deep breathing of the Buddhist monk. Included is the pranayama learned from my guru. Surya bheda runs in the opposite direction (not how my guru does it). The postures run in the sequence I prefer for myself. I teach what I practice.
Two years after becoming certified I was called to Paris to pursue something that had been knocking on my door. Glamorous, lucrative, and illusive it was in front of me. It meant giving up what I had with my students. I valued my students more. My guru’s direction finally came into acceptance. Now I can sometimes be seen wearing those silly tights. I thought I would never wear tights.
Ones path is comparable to a space between dream and reality. If I chose
to be overly logical I would not be where I am. But that does not mean
you give up logic. It is like threading a needle. And once you tap in
you may question your sanity.
You My Students
I went to London and made a few phone calls. A certain gym took me on for a six-week cover. Classes immediately packed with students standing in the doorway to practice. My first students in Swiss Cottage were inspiring. I remember many of your faces. Some of you followed me when I moved on. As time past the last ones fell of when I left the country. The occasional emails received are very appreciated.
Most of you tend to be extremely driven, self-sufficient, strong, and adventurous. Non look for an easy way or any hand holding along the way. Many of you are dedicated and enthusiastic with a true spiritual side that rivals most teachers.
Even if I don’t talk to you I do notice your absence. If you move on I wish you the best. One morning, while waking, I heard the voices of students saying they found a new teacher. It was clear to see who they were after five weeks. Like I said before… I wish those who move on the best. |