happy international dance day!

I’ve been practicing and teaching yogāsana for many years, but a few months ago took a Hanuman-sized leap into the world of Bharatanatyam: Indian Classical dance.

I’m 62. To be honest, I’ve had many doubts about my capacity to explore this exquisite dance idiom. At one point I even – and I say this with a degree of shame – wished I had another face, another body. I was forced to confront this – and eventually settle into the truth of who I am and where I’m at in this lifetime. This venture really churned up the oceanic depths of my self, revealing the hālāhala, the poisonous attitude, that I had hidden at my core.

My teacher, who at 26 is the inverse of my current age, has been a providential guide on this journey. Where I saw limitation – he sees creative potential. This has freed me to begin to look at myself in the same way. There is no limit to creative potential. It is the Divinity that inhabits each of us.

On International Dance Day I want to offer a profound thank you to Supratim Talukder, my Bharatanatyam guruji. May he and all dancing spirits continually find new ways to celebrate the ecstasy of embodiment .

Om Namah Sivaya!

yogāyoga

Mid to late afternoon, after tea, after reading Tagore. I lie down on the couch and curl up like a comma. Not to sleep, but to go quietly inside and think things through.

Today, I am considering the collision of world-views.

A few blog posts back I considered this distance that separates in the air you breathe: the inevitability of the separation that results from being coiled into our cultural cocoons.

The divide is fractal, existing not only on the macro level of culture, but on the micro level of any two individuals. We are all blind, in varying degrees, to the ground upon which we stand. We look out into the world, thinking that we see objectively. But the really real is veiled by the innumerable beliefs we hold about it.

What to do, then? Just give up and sink into the false conviction that only my world-view is real?

It occurs to me that attempting to bridge the gap is why we’re here. Here, now, in apparent isolation from everything else. Our attempts to find connection may often be clumsy and miss the mark. But we can’t give up the project.

This conundrum reminds me of the title of one of Tagore’s novels: Yogayog. That is, yoga + ayoga. Yoga – connection, and its opposite – ayoga – separation. The former is the ultimate reality that underlies everything. The latter is the relative reality in which we spend most of our time.

May we support each other in the attempt to bridge the gap and find connection. The survival of everything depends upon this.

grace and transformation

Our life, like a river, strikes its banks not to find itself closed in by them, but to realize anew every moment that it has its unending opening towards the sea. It is as a poem that strikes its meter at every step not to be silenced by its rigid regulations, but to give expression every moment to the inner freedom of its harmony. – Rabindranath Tagore: The Problem of Self from Sadhana.

Or perhaps life is like the highly codified art form of Bharatanatyam.

One must first learn the rules of this intricate dance idiom in order that the Divine might find expression through it. The latter cannot happen through force or calculation, but only and ever through Grace.

When it does come together, Divinity dances among us and we are utterly transformed.

I experience this in Supratim Talukdar’s expression of Arekar’s choreography Ardhanarīshvara

the air you breathe

starving for air

I gasp

craving connection

(Tagore’s intimate whisper, Ramakrishna’s bliss, a temple dancer caught in stone, your own swirl of ecstatic expression…)

I’ll never be able to occupy

the ground upon which you dance

but am impelled to try and catch

a lungful

of the air you breathe

Supratim Talukder - Home | Facebook

Bharatanatyam dancer Supratim Talukdar.

samputa

Samputa, in the exquisite gestural language of Bharatanatyam, is one of the double hand gestures. The right and left hands are cupped together to create a container. A little treasure box.

I find the image apt for many of the traditional Sanskrit names given to the poses in Yogāsana. For example, Vīrabhadrāsana encodes the whole story of the death of Lord Śiva’s beloved wife Satī. Overcome with grief and rage, Śiva rips out one of His dreadlocks, throws it to the ground, and the fearsome Vīrabhadra arises, ready to avenge Satī’s death.

Investigation into the stories behind the names of the poses can take our practice of yogāsana to another level. Taking Vīrabhadrāsana – literally “Blessed Hero” – again as an example, how might this familiar pose transform if we allow ourselves to embody the dharmic or righteous rage of this avenger? What does it mean to take dharmic action in the world?

The sadhana of yogāsana is a treasure box freely bequeathed to us from the rich culture of India, its birthplace. Do we have the courage to open it up and investigate what lies within?

On this day, the 72nd celebration of the Republic of India, I offer my heartfelt thanks to the land of Bharat for the priceless treasure of yogāsana!

going off-road

So.

My main sadhana, for many years, has been yogāsana. I practice, like most hatha yoga practitioners, on a yoga mat. About 68 by 24 inches. A container. A sacred space. A safe space.

But today, I rolled it up, and stood in the middle of the floor in my practice space. I was starting class #14 with my Bharatanatyam teacher, Supratim Talukder, via Zoom. Today’s class focused on improvisatory movement prompted by various types of cues: situational, musical, emotional… Once I allowed myself to surrender to the process, it felt incredibly liberating. 75 minutes spun by. And afterwards – I felt like I had let go of a lot of stuff. You know – all the individual and collective angst related to this pandemic and life in general. I just – danced it out! It felt so cleansing – like I had just breathed in a truckload of fresh air. Without a mask.

I followed my class up by getting back on my mat and doing some asana. It felt – quite different. There was more space in my body. Familiar poses felt new.

Rebirthing…

my inner lotus – ?

I’ve been working on some improvisatory movement around the theme of the lotus with my Bharatanatyam teacher, Supratim Talukder. I’m realizing that this is not easy work. I keep falling into movement that is over-articulated, or cliché, or just not connecting… My teacher, while kindly encouraging, is also uncompromising. You need to find your inner movement, I’m advised. Find your inner lotus. But –

How?

This morning, as I sat for my prānāyāma practice, I let my awareness settle on grounding – on the muladhara. The muck that we are all rooted in. Tentative rootlets insinuating, exploring down.

Then, gradually moving up to that liquid space of generative creativity. Of water. From the root, finding the gentle caress of flow.

And all the climbing energy centres echoing this watery origin of movement, of sway. Svadhisthana.

Can I surrender to this?

the body doesn’t lie

it lays bare all the heaped-up mistakes and missteps

for the world to read

mind doesn’t mind fooling itself for a time

but the body doesn’t lie

life –

that fractal multiplier expressed in

rounded shoulders, caved in chest, and hesitant step –

life –

offering the blank page of a full and free breath –

can I breathe myself new?

here, now

reshape myself,

and – the world?

Svabhāva, Svadharma, Svakarma

These three have been going through my mind, and heart.

Svabhāva: Our deepest essence. Recognizing this…

Svadharma: Knowing our essence, beginning to find the principles that govern our life…

Svakarma: Once beginning to see how our individual dharma aligns with the Universal Dharma, discovering how we are called to act in the world…

Aligning with the the Divine!

In 2021, may we all be blessed with many opportunities to discover this essential alignment and flow.

Om Shanti!

Spinning out…

My new fascination with Bharatanatyam dance is flowering out in multiple directions. My recent browsing history: Tagore, Ramakrishna, Uday Shankar, asamyukta hasta mudras…

The centrifugal force of a new passion!

My challenge is to keep grounded and not jump ahead of myself. But it truly is exciting to discover new territory, to shift out of set patterns… I can feel shifts in my practice of yogāsana. I feel stronger as new muscle memory is being created.

It really is positively exhilarating that at 61, the potential for growth, for evolution, and revolution is still there! It’s always there.

Carpe diem!