Less is More
If we define
Yoga solely as the postures, I practice three days per week, or so. If we
include seated meditation and breathing exercises in our definition of Yoga,
then I practice each day.
The other day
I was at a crossroads in my run. I could have gone out for another 20 minutes or
headed indoors for some yoga time. The latter was compelling, and I couldn’t
help but notice my pace increase at the thought of some quiet time on the mat.
As I was
unfolding my mat, thoughts of practice swirled: backbends, front bends,
inversions, pranayama, etc.… The world (or at least my tiny corner of it) was
my oyster.
After some
quiet reflection, I began exploring the tiniest poses I could feel. Typically
I’ll expand the poses until I bump into something I consider interesting.
Sometimes interesting includes the end-range of motion, sometimes I’ll
explore the limits of eccentric strength (active stretching), and sometimes I
explore the movement until some sort of reactivity (tensing, clenching, etc.)
appears.
During this
practice, I practiced some of my regular, go-to poses: prone backbends, seated
twists, and twisting variations within headstand. In each pose, I started in a
relatively neutral or uninvolved position, and then I moved slowly into the
poses until there was some flicker of sensation change – the minimum threshold
of perception.
To the fly on
the wall, this practice must have been wholly uninteresting. The twists weren’t
very twisty, the backbends weren’t very bendy, and the headstand variations
were a blink-and-you-missed-it shift from the plain, vanilla headstand.
After
20-minutes of this practice, I spent some quiet time in Savasana, and observed
the whirling, swirling energies in my body. Interestingly, the smallest
perceptible poses had an outsized effect. For hours afterward, I could scarcely
believe how energized and refreshed I felt – from practicing the tiniest,
barely-perceptible poses.
In Yoga, as in
design, quite often less is more!
Comments