Richard Rosen's Asana Breakdown: EKA PADA RAJAKAPOTASANA I

EKA PADA RAJAKAPOTASANA I (One Foot King Pigeon Posture)

eka = one 

pada = foot

raja = king

kapota = pigeon

The Sanskrit word for “bird” is khaga, literally “moving (ga) through air or space (kha).” While not forgetting members of the avian family like ostriches and penguins, the fact that most birds can fly makes them the perfect messengers for the gods living in the heavenly realms when they want to contact us mere mortals down here on earth. Since they can enter and leave those realms at will, birds know secrets of which humans haven’t a clue. This is especially true for the crow, who holds the three greatest secrets: the secret of immortality, the secret of creation, since she  was there to witness it, and the secret of the underworld, where she resided for many years. As a result, the “science of the crow” (vayasa vidya) developed around her and became a popular course of study. Based on her flight patterns and the sound of her cawing, “crow scientists” could determine certain significant omens.

Birds also serve as “mounts” (vahana) for the gods. Sarasvati, the “flowing one,” the goddess of speech and learning (who invented Sanskrit) rides on a peacock, Laksmi, the goddess of wealth, rides an owl, Vishnu, the Preserver, one of the three deities of the Hindu Tirmurti (sort of akin to the Christian Trinity), rides an eagle, and Brahma, the Creator, a second member of the Trimurti (Shiva is the third), rides a wild gander. Like the crow, the gander (hamsa) inspired an elaborate mythology because he could live anywhere in the world without attachment, in the sky, on the water and land. He became a natural symbol of the yogi, the homeless wanderer, free of any worldly connections. The gander’s Sanskrit name conceals a profound secret that, as the Sufis say, is hidden in plain view, the unspoken (ajapa) mantra. Reverse the syllables and we get sa’ham, meaning “that” (sa), the Absolute or Brahman, and “I am” (aham), rendered “I am that”; in other words, the embodied Self, the jivatman, is at one with the great Self, the paramatman or  Brahman. From the moment we’re born to the moment we pass away, we’re reminded of our identity with the Absolute with every breath we take: a hissing “sa” sound on the inhale, an aspirate “ha” sound on the exhale. Sit in some quiet place, close your eyes and listen to your breathing. Hear it?

After many long hours of research, I sadly failed to find anything very exciting about the pigeon. Mr Iyengar says the posture is so named because the chest is puffed up like that of a “pouter pigeon” (LoY, 389). I discovered a hand mudra, kapota mudra, demonstrated in The Mudras of India, by Cain and Revital Carroll. The mudra looks a lot like anjali mudra, except the hands are cupped together. One benefit,  according to the authors, is that it can be used to “cultivate humbleness and inward reflection,” two qualities our world could use more of right now, except of course at the Nest. It can also be used to “dispel anxiety and coldness” simply by “separating the hands quickly and repeatedly forming the gesture.” I can’t vouch for this personally (but in a nice touch, the mudra is found on page 108). 

Now for the posture. It’s possible you may need some kind of buttock support, like a blanket, and 

it’s likely you’ll need a strap. We were sternly warned in teacher training not to do this posture without first stretching the outer hips (but that was 40 years ago and times have changed), and of course warming up for the backward extension, which would include preliminary exercises for stretching the chest, armpits, and front groins. This is the first of four rajakapota variations (as indicated by the Roman numeral I) in Light on Yoga. As is typical in this book, the first posture  in any series is always the “easiest,” though as we all know, “easy” is a relative value. LoY gives every posture (except shavasana) a “difficulty rating number,” which is on a scale from 1 to 60. In this system, our posture 28, II is 29, III is 30, and IV jumps to 40. Be forewarned though, this book was published in 1966, and the ratings are often a bit on the low end. 

If you’re in any way limited in backbends, which I assume many of us are, loop the strap around your left foot and snug it, with the buckle on the sole side. From Downward Dog (adho mukha shvanasana), inhale and bring your right knee just to the outside of your right wrist, cross your lower leg diagonally under your torso, and lay the left leg on the floor with the strap alongside it in easy reach. If your right buttock doesn’t sit comfortably on the floor, put some support below it, like a blanket or foam block. Then check the back leg. Make sure it’s reaching straight back from your pelvis, with the center of the kneecap and the little toe side of the foot squarely on the floor. This imparts a slight inward rotation of the left thigh bone (femur), which in turn protects the lower back. 

Adjust the right foreleg according to your ability. If you need a support for the buttock, it’s probably best to position the right heel just in front of the left hip. If your buttock rests comfortably on the floor, you can increase the challenge–not that this pose isn’t challenging enough as it is–by moving the foreleg forward somewhat, heel away from hip. 

Now exhale and lay your torso down on your inner right leg. From your lower back ribs, extend your arms as far forward as possible, and from your tail bone, extend the left leg in the opposite direction, as far backward as possible. In doing this, lengthen the sides of your torso and especially your armpits and groins as much as you can. Imagine you’re dividing yourself in half around the waistline. Every now and then lift your torso slightly with an inhale, draw your belly out from the depths of the pelvic bowl. Then with an exhale slowly spool your front torso back down on the thigh, lower belly touching first, then the upper, and finally the ribs. Continue for a minute or two.

When you’re ready to raise your torso, there’s a very specific way to do that. Try NOT to push your torso up using your hands, that usually tends to compress the lower back. Instead, inhale, and try to lift your torso to upright by drawing your tail bone down toward the floor, this will help keep the lower back relatively extended. You might raise up (inhale) and lie down (exhale) a few times to make sure you have the feel of the tail’s action. The lengthening of the coccyx in this way is applicable to every back extension. 

When your torso is raised, bend your left knee. Notice if the knee slides out to the left a bit, and if it does, try to bring it back to the right and more in line with the hip. Then firmly take hold of the strap in your left hand, stretch your arm toward the ceiling, and raise the right arm and take hold of the strap in both hands.

Depending on your flexibility, you’ll find yourself at or somewhere in between two extremes. At  one end of these two, you can bend your elbows and gently walk your hands along the strap toward the foot. At the other extreme, your arms are nearly straight and your left foot seems about 108 miles away from your hands. In either case, DON’T PULL ON THE STRAP to deepen the posture. The strap is a guide for your hands and a means to keep your foot in place, not the rope in a tug-of-war between your arms and left foot. When the strap is first in both hands, pause briefly and bring your breath into the foreground of your awareness. Allow the inner right groin to deepen into the pelvis, feeling the front groin on the left side lengthening as you draw your pubis toward your navel to SHORTEN the lower belly. This may seem like just the opposite of what you want to do, but it’s not. Also bring your front ribs down and into your torso, so that you’re actually slightly closing down your belly. To see what this ideal looks like, go to Mr.  Iyengar’s picture in LoY, plate 539, just as he’s prepping for the posture. Notice the smooth curve of his front torso, as if someone drew a half circle with a compass. Then re-create those two actions you learned in the reclining warm-up: from your lower back ribs, lift through the TOP of the sternum (manubrium) and your elbows, lengthening the armpits, but keeping them deep, and descend through the tail bone into the floor. “Backbend” is something of a misnomer, we’re not “bending back,” we’re lengthening back, relying on the length of the groins and armpits to create the final posture. 

As I mentioned, walk your hands LIGHTLY along the strap. Remember, the foot is not the goal; in fact, in some ways it’s best not to have a goal. Yoga asanas are chock full of surprises, and sometimes goals are limiting, channeling your attention in one direction and missing other possibilities. 

Every so often we see a picture of a student in what seems like an all-pro back bend. Check the lower back though, and you might notice there a deep arch. This tells us that the extension is concentrated in the lumbar, which isn’t ideal. In every back extension you’re working to create an even distribution of that extension all along the length of the spine, including both the thoracic and cervical spines. In the best of all possible worlds, every asana should create more space in the body-mind, not less. The “full posture” for you is where you can get to comfortably. However, as Mr Krishnamacharya said, Today’s maximum is tomorrow’s minimum. 

If you don’t get very far along the strap, it might be best to keep your head fairly neutral. If you do take your head back to look up, remember that the cervical spine should feel like a natural extension of the thoracic spine. Be sure not to simply drop your head back from the base of the skull, that inevitably compresses your neck. Instead take your head back from its “energetic root”  between the shoulder blades (it’s important to distinguish between the base of the neck and its root. The former is the seventh cervical vertebra, the latter is an imaginary point between the shoulder blades).

Watch your breath very closely. There’s a strong inclination in these deeper “adult” back extensions (e.g., as opposed to the “babies” like Locust, shalabhasana) to push to extremes (“gotta get that foot”), causing the throat to grip and breath stop. Avoid this as much as possible, breath holding can lead to unpleasant results, including booming headaches. 

Some students may be able to take the foot, most others will need to continue to hold the strap. After all this mishegas (a Sanskrit word borrowed from Yiddish meaning “craziness”) you’ve gone through getting to this point, you might as well stay for at least 30 seconds. Release with a gratified exhale, step back to Downward Dog, take a few breaths then kneel down to switch the strap to your right foot, and repeat with the other side for the same length of time. As one of my teachers always said, be thankful you don’t have three sides. 

Richard's Asana Breakdown: PARŚVOTTANĀANA

PARŚVOTTANĀANA

parśva side, flank
uttāsna stretched out, spread out, lying on the back

āsana seat

As you can see, the Sanskrit word parœvottanâsana is composed of three smaller words, parśva, uttāsna, and āsana. We’re all quite familiar with this last word, āsana, which nowadays is typically rendered as “pose” or “posture,” but which, you may know, literally means, “seat” (derived from the verb ās, “to sit”). That little horizontal line above the the initial ā, called a macron, indicates it’s a long (as opposed to short) a. This means it takes the emphasis in the word, so it’s pronounced AH-sun-uh.

Now what about those other two words, parœva and uttāsna? The accent mark above the first word’s s makes it a palatal s, so is pronounced like sh, parsh-vuh. Uttâna, you can see, has another long â, and so is pronounced oo-TAHN-uh. You may then notice something odd about the word parœvottanâsana. Where does that o near the middle come from, there’s no o in any of the three composite words? In Sanskrit several words are often blended into one word, as here. This blending is called a “junction” (sandhi), and there are a host of rules governing this process. It sometimes results inextremelylongwordswithnobreaks, and unless you can decipher the sandhis, good luck understanding what’s being said. The sandhi here is very common: when the final a of a word, like parœva, is immediately followed by a word beginning with u, the two vowels join and an o is born. This is the same sandhi we see in the three letters of aum, which becomes om.

I bring this up because we live through sandhis every day of our lives, at least two, sometimes, depending on the source, three or four. These are the times of transition between darkness and light, dawn, and light and darkness, sunset (sometimes noon and midnight are added). It’s said that these are the most propitious times of the day to practice, when the balance between external light and dark is believed to have a sympathetic balancing effect on the energies of our body, a highly desirable state for yoga practice.

In the Iyengar system parœvottanâsana is performed as part of a very simple vinyasa, moving from the first side to the second by swinging through prasârita pâdottânâsana (notice the o in the second word, it’s the result of a sandhi between pada, “foot,” and uttânâsana, the name given to the basic standing forward bend). I’ll describe this movement at the end of this article.

One more thing to know about the customary way this pose is performed concerns the position of the arms and hands. You likely know that when we press our palms together and rest our thumbs lightly on the sternum, it’s a gesture know as anjali mudra (there’s actually a second way to make this gesture, with cupped palms turned up and the little finger sides of the hands touching). In Iyengar land, the hands in parœvottanâsana are brought into anjali behind the back, known as pooþhânjali mudra, pooþha meaning the “back of anything” (pronounced something like prish-tah). This position is difficult, not to mention painful, for a majority of students. Nest Yoga strongly believes “No pain, lots of gain ,” so you have two options for the arms: keep them free and put

them on the floor–or on blocks, if needed–or cross them behind your back, holding the elbows. If you do the latter, swing them back on inhales, noticing which arm is higher. This is your habitual cross, which you should change on the second side.

PRELIMINARY

The distance between your feet in this pose can vary depending on your level of experience. If you’re a relative yoga rookie, you might want to keep your feet fairly close together, maybe about two feet, give or take a few inches depending on your height. The pose will be a bit easier. If you have more experience under your belt, or are a daredevil rookie, then move your feet about three feet apart, a few more inches if you’re taller.

Since you’ll be turning your torso to face over the forward leg, the back foot is turned in rather sharply, more so than Triangle Pose, for example. The attempt is made to square the front of your pelvis with the front of the mat. New beginners might need some help doing this, though more experienced students who are tighter in the hips and groins will experience a similar limitation. The best approach here is to position a lift under the back heel, like a thickly folded blanket or better yet, a sand bag (40 years ago the bags were indeed filled with sand, but no longer today).

When you rotate your torso over the front leg, two things might happen that will need your attention. The back heel, in response to the turn of the hip, might lose a bit of its contact with the floor/support. In this case, as the hip comes forward, you’ll need to push actively back, away from the front edge of the mat, with the top of the front thigh and draw the pubis to the navel. This should help to somewhat free the groin. The back heel, in most of the two sided standing poses, provides your anchor to the earth. If you lose that, the pose will likely be, to some degree, unstable, which diminishes the sense of rootedness, one of the important benefits of standing poses. The second issue, though not quite as common as the first, occurs when you draw back on the front leg hip. This sometimes results in a loss of full contact of the base of the big toe and the floor, another destabilizing action. So as you draw the front hip back, it’s necessary to plant the mound of the big toe firmly into the floor. As you might notice, the work of the heels and big toes counter the movement of the pelvis.

PRACTICE

So start this with the right foot forward, left foot back, with a distance between them that suits you best. Turn your torso to the right, monitoring the left heel and the base of the right big toe. If you feel that it’s difficult to ground the left heel, put some height below it. Then inhale and lean back, affirming the contact of the left heel with the floor or support, and maintaining that awareness, exhale and lengthen forward. Remember, all forward bends are rooted in the groins, not the lower belly. So as you descend into the fold, preserve the space between the pubis and navel, periodically lifting slightly out of the fold to re-affirm that space. For this time, align the mid-torso over the inner right leg so it’s a straight forward bend (it’s also possible to align the mid-torso over the middle of the leg, adding a slight twist to the pose).

Check the angle of your pelvis and the feeling of the right groin and hip. It’s not uncommon for

the front leg hip to tilt down slightly, and at the same time “bunch up,” shortening the right side of the torso. If your hands are free, bend the right knee a bit and press your right thumb into the hip crease, then push back as firmly as you can. Remember to keep the mound of the big toe glued to the floor. Then if your hands are on some support–the floor or blocks–actively push them into the support and back toward the back foot. From this downward, backward pressure, draw the belly out a little farther, pretending that it sits deep in the pelvis like an egg in an egg cup. If your arms are crossed behind, be sure NOT to lift the elbows away from the back torso. Instead push them firmly against the back and lift the front shoulders upward.

In your imagination, draw “energetically” up from the big toe mound to the inner right groin. Then draw that groin deeper into the pelvis to encourage the lengthening of the belly. Keep your head in a neutral place, looking at the front leg. Stay for 30 seconds to a minute. When ready to exit, come up on an inhale with a long front torso, pulling down on the tail bone to initiate the move from the base of the pelvis. Once upright, be sure NOT to shift forward onto the right foot to bring the feet together. Instead, turn your feet parallel to each other, then turn them for the second side, right foot in, left out, and repeat the relevant instructions. Be sure to time yourself so that you stay for equal lengths of time on both sides.

THE VINYASA

After finishing the pose to the right, exhale, maintain the forward fold and swing your torso to the left. As you do, reverse to position of the feet, right foot in, left out. As your torso reaches the left leg, inhale and lift to upright (you won’t be able to do this if your back heel is supported). Quickly repeat the preparations for the pose and come down on the exhale. Stay for the same length of time as you did on the right, then exhale and swing to the right, stopping in the middle between the two sides. If your arms are crossed behind, you’ll be more or less in prasârita pâdottânâsana 2, if your hands are free, prasârita pâdottânâsana 1. Stay for as long as you like, then press your hands to the floor under your shoulders (uncross them if need be) and step or hop your feet together. As always, ascend with a long inhale, pulling down through your tail bone.

Asana of the Month: Tadasana

Tadasana: The Wisdom of the Mountain

By Annie Carpenter

Why do we Yogis call standing upright Mountain pose? If standing well is akin to a mountain, what is that metaphor meant to teach us? I don’t think it’s the challenge of scaling up and then back down the other side; nor do I think it’s getting to the top to enjoy the incredible views. Certainly, it’s not the idea of a slow steady decay as through the centuries the mountains loose stature and topple, rock by rock, into their very valleys.

But on that note, the quality of endurance may just be that original intention. Though eventually they will be brought to their knees, mountains seem to last forever. In our lifetimes and in the stories about mountains we hear and pass on, these beloved symbols of longevity persist through the ages.

In Yoga asana, Tadasana is standing upright and erect, balanced front to back and side to side, Mountain pose. In Sanskrit, it’s Tadasana. There is so much to do, to explore and to learn in and from this “simple” pose.

Here, we learn to root and rebound. We root through our feet, noticing if our weight is forward or back, on the inner or outer feet, or more on one foot than the other. We learn to firm the legs, awakening and firming evenly on each leg and each group of muscles that surround our legs, creating a feeling of spaciousness on all sides of the ankle, knee and hip. We place the pelvis right on top of the paired verticality of our legs until the quality of a bowl, not tipping in any direction, is found. From the back of the pelvis where the base of our spine sits, we balance the sacred bone. Here, at the sacrum, the meeting of above and below, right to left and even the cross diagonals that make walking graceful, we our “just right.”

The health and fluidity of our spines begins here at the head, or top, of the sacrum. The beautiful curves, front to back, receive any and all shocks. Any individual sideways or twisting curve that our less-than-perfect spines may have, take advantage of each practice of Tadasana to move towards balance. We know we are there as our belly and its organs relax, and our breath lengthens and expands.

Our shoulder girdle and arms drape with ease in Tadasana, giving a feeling of an open chest, the possibility of reaching and holding with our arms, and an ease and fullness to each Inhalation. On our exhales our shoulder blades glide down releasing our neck above.

The more delicate and nimble neck and the head above awaken from their ingrained patterns learned from staring at devices for hours on end, and from leaning in to connect with our beloveds. As the neck finds its spaciousness and the head its skyward float, we observe a deep release in the jaw and tongue, our eyes relax, and listening in all ways becomes easier.

Then, effortlessly we move from all the micro-adjustments to a feeling of the whole -- ourselves as a whole, complete being-- and we understand what true Drishti is. Drishti, the ability to focus steadily on one point at which we softly gaze, while steadily “seeing” everything that is inside of ourselves.

Tadasana has the intent of bringing us to our most spacious physical experience. From this, we gain two seeming opposing 

possibilities. Like the mountain we can stay here for extended periods. The balanced position requires the least amount of effort and energy to sustain. And, at the same time, in this place of balance, we are literally ready to go in any direction at any time. Amazing: easily able to stay and ready to go. 

I’d be remiss if I didn’t add one more thing. In one of the schools of Yoga this pose is called Samasthithi, or even-standing pose. This translates as sama, even or balanced, and stithi from the word sthira, for steady, firm or strong. Further, sthira can also be translated to earth. In Samasthithi we have the method, or instructions on how to ground, and stand tall with ease. If we couple that with Tadasana, the great symbol of a mountain enduring through time immeasurable, we may begin to practice and live with equanimity, indeed.

Richard's Asana Breakdown: muditā śiśu āsana

JOYFUL BABY POSE

muditā śiśu āsana

muditā (moo-dee-TAH) = delighted, joyful, glad, rejoicing in 

śiśu (shi-shoo) = baby

The projection of friendliness, compassion, joyfulness, and equanimity towards objects–be they joyful, sorrowful, meritorious or demeritorious–bring about the pacification of consciousness.

Yoga Sutra 1.33

Muditā is rooted in the word mud (pronounced mood), “joy, delight, gladness, happiness.” If you’ve ever read the 4th or 5th century CE Yoga Sutra, you may recall that muditā is one of the four, Buddhist-inspired practices listed at 1.33. These practices are first found in a 3rd century BCE text titled the Majjhima Nikāya, the “Collection (nikāya) of Middle-length Discourses” (majjhima) of the Buddha. Note that these words aren’t Sanskrit; instead, they’re Pali, the ancient liturgical language of the Theravādan Buddhists. In that text, the four are known as the “stations of Brahma” (brahma vihāra); along with joyfulness, there’s friendliness (maitrī, my-TREE), compassion (karuņa, kuh-roo-nuh), and a word often translated as “indifference,” but probably should be qualified with a word like “benevolent” (upekşa, oo-payk-shuh

Now why or to whom should we be friendly, compassionate, joyful, and benevolent? Vyasa, the first commentator on the sutras, explains that we should be friendly to those who’ve experienced happiness, compassionate to those in distress, joyful to those “treading the path of virtue,” and benevolent to those who’ve wandered off that path. These attitudes, as the sutra says, pacifies the mind, which then becomes one-pointed and serene. This sutra and the next six to 1.39 are together known as “ways of polishing or training the mind” (parikarman). 

The names of poses are often reflections of their outward appearance. Downward Facing Dog (adho mukha svanāsana) is a good example (and much better than the pose’s original name, gajāsana, the Elephant). On the other hand, some names don’t make much sense at all; what the heck is a triang mukhaikapada paścimottanāsana? But the name here suits the pose well. It’s easy enough to see the practitioner mimicking a nine-month old, rolling around in her crib on her back, frolicking with her beautifully open groins. The name is also an assurance: do this pose regularly and someday, even as an adult, we’ll be able to again play with “joy, delight, gladness, and  happiness,” like the baby.

PREPARATION

1. Lie on you back and draw your thighs to your belly on an exhalation. Rock slowly and consciously side to side, widening your back torso away from the spine. Then hold your right thigh to the belly and put your left foot on the floor. The easiest way to do the pose, relatively speaking, is to keep your left leg just as it is. To add a bit more challenge (and who doesn’t want more challenge in their life?), extend the left leg but raise the heel some distance off the floor. You might press your heel against a wall, or support it on a block, at a height that works for you. The closer your heel is to the floor, the more challenging the pose. And finally, for the most challenge, stretch the left leg out on the floor and keep it strong and straight. If you have a wall handy, it helps to press your heel firmly against it.

2. If you’re tighter in the groins, your head may lift off the floor as you perform this pose. If it does, be sure to support the back of your head on a block or thickly folded blanket. 

3. Bring your right knee to the outside of your right arm (which for many students is easier said then done), press your elbow against the back of the right thigh just above the knee, cross your forearm to the outside of the foreleg, and hold the outside of your right foot in your hand. Then raise the foreleg to more or less perpendicular to the floor. Again, be sure your head is resting comfortably either on the floor or support.

4. Try to work the back of the shoulder into the angle made by the bent knee, then press the thigh down toward the floor (again, easier said etc.). Try to keep the inner knee against the side of the shoulder. You might be able to narrow the right hip onto the inner thigh. As always, the back pelvis widens like a hand-held fan, while the front pelvis draws together at the navel. 

5. Check your left leg. If you have it fully extended, the knee may be buckling slightly. So either re-affirm its strength by pressing out from the back heel and base of the big toe, or raise it slightly off the floor, using a block or the wall for support. And if the leg is already elevated, you might try to raise it higher. 

6. Realistically for most of us, a longer stay in this position is needed, as is regular practice. Stay for at least a minute, two would be better. Don’t forget to BREATHE! However, if you’re more open in the groins, a minute should suffice. When time is up, release the leg, shake it out, and repeat on the left side for at least an equal length of time. If you find one side is considerably more bound up than the other, then stay for a bit longer on that side than the other.

If you find this preparation takes you to your limit, you might stay with it for awhile until you feel more comfortable. But if you’re ready to “baby on,” go to the FULL POSE. 

FULL POSE

1. Now, as it always does, the moment of truth has arrived. All you need really do is perform the right and left preps together (easier said etc.). You might find the full pose a slight to considerably greater challenge. 

2. Exhale and bring both thighs to the belly, then move them off to the sides of your shoulders, and work the backs of the upper arms across the back thighs just above the knees, swing your forearms to the outside of the forelegs, and hold the outer edges of the feet. This is all exactly what you did for prep, though one side at a time. 

3. Your head may not have needed a support for the prep, but it may now, so be sure to prop it up to keep the neck long and the throat soft. 

4. It may be more of a challenge (I speak from long experience) to hold the full pose for a time equal to that of the prep. Find a time to stay that’s reasonable for you and call it a day (but don’t quit just because you’re bored). Make note of that time, and in practice on the next day, remember what a famous yogi once said: “Today’s maximum is tomorrow’s minimum.” 

ALTERNATIVE

It might happen that pressing your elbows to the back thighs and then holding the outer feet is something you can’t manage comfortably, or at least relatively so. Simply reach your forearms up along the outside of your forelegs, and hold the outer edges of the feet. Can’t easily take the feet? Use straps.

Richard's Asana Breakdown: VASISHTHASANA (Tree variation)

VASISHTHASANA (Tree variation)

Vasishtha = literally, “most wealthy” 

Popularly known as Side Plank

Vasishtha (pronounced vuh-sish-tuh) is the name of a celebrated Vedic sage. He’s best remembered as the owner of a miraculous cow, Nandini, the “cow of plenty,” who had the power to grant its owner whatever he could desire, hence Vasishtha’s name. Born directly from the brain of the creator deity, Brahma, he’s one of the seven great seers (sapta rishi) who, according to the ancient myth, receive the timeless words of the Rig Veda at the outset of each world incarnation. As a poet, most of the 104 suktas (“wise sayings,” usually called hymns) collected in the seventh chapter (called a mandala, “circle”) of the Rig are attributed to him.

Apparently, there’s more than one Vasishtha associated with Hindu and yoga literature. Several other texts–the Vasishtha Samhita (“collection”) and the Yoga Vasishtha among them–are attributed, as we can see, to a Vasishtha. These texts, though, were written hundreds of years after the Rig. So unless the original Vasishtha lived a really long time, it’s a safe bet that there were later Vasishthas. Another possibility is that these texts were written by men who attributed their work to a well-known and widely revered sage while remaining anonymous, something that doesn’t happen very often with modern books. But this was a fairly common practice in the yoga tradition. It was felt that by tagging their work with the names of self-realized or semi-divine characters, that work would be thought to be endowed with greater authority.

A search through the Encyclopedia of Traditional Asanas turned up three different poses named vasishthasana. The earliest, from the 18th century, is found in the Joga Pradipika (not to be confused with the Yoga Pradipika; joga is Hindi for “yoga”). Picture sitting on the floor with bent knees, taking your arms outside the thighs and under the knees, then clasping your hands on your crown (the feet a lifted slightly off the floor). Looking straight on at the pose then, the shins make a V shape. The next variant is from the year 1880, found in the Asana Yoga Grantha (“treatise”). Picture sitting on the floor in Bound Angle Pose (baddha konasana), slipping your arms under the shins, taking hold of your feet and raising them above your head. If you’re like me, this picture is as close to this pose as you’ll get. The third variation is from a book authored by T. Krishnamacharya, Yoga Rahasya (“secret”), written, I believe, in the late 1930's. Here at last we find the basic version of the pose we all know and sort of like, in theory if not in practice, so well.

PREPARATION

Balance can be an issue with vasishthasana, so here’s a preparation that will give you a feel for the pose in a more stable variation.

1. Come into Downward Dog (adho mukha svanasana). Step your right foot half-way to your right hand, pivot on the heel and turn the foot so the toes point out to the right, then slide that foot a little closer to your mat’s long edge. 

2. Inhale, swing on to the outer edge of your left foot, turn your torso to the right, and swing your right hand to your right hip. You now should be resting on your left hand and the outer edge of the left foot, with your bent-knee right foot out in front of the rest of the body providing stability. Press your left hand actively to the floor, emphasizing the contact on the base of the index finger. Imagine your arm is rooted in your spine, so that you push against the floor from deep inside your upper back. 

3. Try to create a straight line from heels to head diagonal to the floor. Oftentimes the pelvis is doing one of two things: it’s either pushed up toward the ceiling, creating a kind of shallow upside down U, or sagging toward the floor, creating a kind of shallow U. Adjust as best you can.

4. In photos of this pose, we often see the supporting hand positioned directly below its shoulder. It’s my humble opinion this isn’t the best placement, it will tend to jam the joint, and we prefer yoga jelly to jam. Ideally, the hand should be slightly ahead of the shoulder so the supporting arm is parallel to the line across the top of the shoulders, not perpendicular to the floor. The same goes if you want to stretch the free arm up. Adjust it too parallel to the shoulder line, so the arms, like the rest of your body, are slightly angled relative to the floor. 

5. You might imagine there’s a wall in front of your top hand. Push against that imaginary resistance and use it to bring the shoulder blade firmly against your back. 

6. Hold for 15 to 30 seemingly endless seconds, then exhale and swing back to Downward Dog. Come down for a rest if needed, then repeat with your right side, left foot forward. Hold for a similar length of time (no cheating), then again back to Downward Dog and release into Child’s Pose (balasana).  

PRACTICE

1. If you feel that you might need some help, you can do one of two things. Start in Downward Dog with your heels against your yoga wall, balls of the feet on the floor. Swing on to the outer edge of your left foot as before, but now press your left sole against the wall. Then stack your right foot atop the left and press that sole to the wall as well. Make sure your hand is ahead of the shoulder.

2. The second thing you can do, if you want to work away from the wall, is move into Downward Dog with a foam block within reach. As you swing on to the left side, with your right hand take the block and wedge it, tallest height, under either the left foreleg or thigh, depending on your height. Of course, you can always do the pose without any help. 

3. Now comes the tricky part. Exhale and bend your right knee in toward your torso and take hold of the ankle. Lift the right foot up and stand it on your inner left thigh. If you want to mimic the Tree Pose (vrkshasana), touch the ball of the foot first to the inner side of the thigh, then firmly press the heel into inner groin. 

4. Be sure not to press the raised knee back. Keep it slightly forward of the line of the torso, so the groin stays soft. Again, stay for 15 to 30 seconds, then swing back to Dog and down into Child’s Pose, take a rest.

5. Now if you’re feeling adventurous, you might try the pose without a wall or block. Be sure to press actively from the tail bone through your heels, keeping the thigh muscles firm. Unless your neck is perfectly aligned with the torso, I strongly advise NOT to turn your head to look up, but keep looking straight ahead. 

THINK ON THESE THINGS

Here’s something to think about. Which arm feels stronger? One of my teachers many years ago maintained that for righties, the left arm is stronger, for lefties vice versa. According to him, the dominant hand was best at fine manipulation.