One of the biggest differences I’ve noticed between Bikram yoga and vinyasa is something my studio calls “the flow.” Vinyasa encourages fluid movement and you don’t often stay in a pose for more than a breath or two. This, I’m discovering, is a useful and rewarding way to practice, but I’m finding it as initially challenging as I first found the hot room.
People have told me they find the idea of staying in a very hot room for ninety minutes intimidating, and I can certainly see their perspectives. But I think moving constantly for sixty minutes can be equally off-putting. Because in Bikram, though yes, it is HOT, you use the breath to hold still in a posture and delve into its nuances. In vinyasa, the movement is much faster, which is fine—as long as you know what you’re doing.
Yoga postures can be deceptively simple. Take downward dog: Palms and feet on the mat, hips in the air, body forming a V shape, head hanging heavy. Seems basic enough. But while this pose is easy to approximate, without specific knowledge of the nuances, it can feel awkward, especially on the wrists. (In fact, wrist pain is the main reason I’ve always disliked downward dog–a posture conveniently not included in the Bikram sequence.)
But with a few tweaks, downward dog becomes comfortable: Putting pressure on the knuckle joints instead of the fingertips made a world of difference for me, as did spreading out my fingers instead of keeping them together. And if I lift into the pose from a tabletop position (where I’m on my hands and knees with my wrists directly under my shoulders), I can be sure the length of mat space between my hands and feet is proportionate for my body. Armed with these adjustments, the same pose that once hurt my wrists now strengthens my upper body.
Which is good, since vinyasa class involves a lot of downward dog.
It also involves a lot of “the flow,” which means going from downward dog to push-up plank to a lower push-up-type move to upward dog and back to downward dog, all in the space of two breaths. During the course of a class, various postures are linked together through this repetitive sequence. The flow takes about five seconds to complete, but it’s taken me about five hours of discussion and demonstration to understand the details of how I should be positioning my body.
Before those five hours of training, I thought I was doing okay in class, mimicking the people around me and going through the motions. But now I understand that, while I wasn’t risking my life or anything, I also wasn’t getting the most out of my practice. With acute awareness of my physical movements–and how they pair with my breath–the flow feels smooth and empowering, not frantic and confusing. It’s feels good to know what I’m doing, and I look forward to helping others gain similar confidence.
Comments are closed.