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Wavers
I have been deeply inspired by anatomy as of late, bringing in books, notes, and sharing from my experiences of seeing what is underneath the flesh, after my dissection workshop with Gil Hedley. Today I started class by inviting everyone to "Gather around and look at this great picture of a cadaver's upper back musculature." I have Rohen & Yokochi's "Color Atlas of Anatomy" which is replete with photographs of the human body. I wanted the students to see how muscle fibers, just like fascia, have lines that are neither vertical nor horizontal but diagonal. We have often heard that there are no straight lines in nature. But to see this inside the body is a true gift that reassures us into the knowledge that life is spiraling, eternally moving, and ever-shifting experience. Here is a quote from "The Endless Web: Fascial Anatomy and Physical Reality" by R. Louis Schultz and Rosemary Feitis: "In looking at the connective tissue arrangement in dissections of human bodies, we noted that there was seldom a linear (vertical or horizontal) arrangement of connective tissue fibers on the surface or deep within the body."
In my many years of teaching I have witnessed how we yogis have a tendency to hold our poses with a lot of muscular strength. There is even a traditional view from Classical Yoga which states that according to Patanjali, yoga is the "cessation of the fluctuations of the mind."In other words: hold still your thoughts, still your body, still yourself. Although the idea is helpful, it often makes us too rigid in the way we end up holding ourselves in space and in the space of our minds.
Lately after my studies of dissection, as well as my resignation from Anusara Yoga, I have been examining everything: my teachers, the language of yoga that I use in classes and the way I practice. I have slowly been adding some changes to my practice, like:
*What if I included my skin as I breathed?
*What if I allowed myself to waver in the poses?
* What if instead of "coming up into cobra" I zigzagged my way up into the pose, instead of rising in a rush?
*What if I remembered that yoga poses are not linear so instead of coming up or down in the poses, to remind myself that my fibers are moving in every direction and dimension.
*What if when I meditated, instead of sitting still, I let my spine naturally waver in space?
My yoga practice, meditation practice, as well as my teaching have been changing. I feel now that instead of poses that I am trying to reach, my practice has become more of a journey. Even when I am in a pose, the pose continues. Now as I "hold" the poses I imagine myself underwater. Paradoxically that ever-fluid wavering is making me stronger by "tricking" my body into staying present and not relying on old samskaric patterns of posture. If anything the little wavers in each pose brings greater awareness to my body and the parts of my body that don't want to move. Energetically it is also making my body start to unwind in its own unique way. It's not about moving mindlessly. It's about adding a conscious wavering to the poses and seeing how that feels. Maybe it will invite us to not hold ourselves so stiffly; our bodies, our beliefs, our opinions, ourselves. Maybe it will remind us that who we really are is an ever pulsating & throbbing energy.
Maybe as I finish writing this, and as you, dear reader, finish reading this, we can both check to see if our bodies have been stiff in space. We can breathe a little bit more and allow ourselves to move as if we were held by water.
Psoas Release Pose
On Thursdays' Restorative Yoga class something interesting happened. I had started class with some gentle stretching and then we moved to our first restorative pose of the evening. I chose to do the Psoas Release pose, inspired by Liz Koch's book on the Psoas. Liz Koch writes about lying down in what's known as the "constructive rest position" which is a simple, supine pose with bent legs. I added to that tons of props so that the body does not have to work at holding itself up. The result? A really relaxing pose that through the usage of props and gravity allows the Ilio Psoas muscle complex to release.
In my Restorative classes after 5-7 minutes in a pose, I ring the bell and invite the students to either stay longer in the pose or transition slowly to a fetal pose and then sit, preparing for the next pose. Last Thursday I rang the bell and gently told the students to start to deepen their breath and then move to a fetal pose. "However," I said, "if you want to stay in the pose longer then please do and join us whenever you feel ready." And for the first time in 3 years of teaching this class no one moved. No one! Everyone was so comfortable and stayed there longer. After 10 minutes we then changed and did another pose.
It fills me with such delight to see people listening to their bodies and intuition, allowing themselves to rest deeply. I for one will now be teaching this pose at every class and practicing it myself several times a week.
Lastly, Happy Mother's Day! To my beloved mamita who loves me unconditionally, who always has been there and has all the time in the world for me (except when a movie is playing!)
To all the mothers out there, blessings!
And to the mother inside all of us, that healing, nurturing voice that is always there, guiding us. May we keep listening to that voice.
The arctic woolly-bear caterpillar
Yesterday I was watching "Frozen Planet" with my boyfriend and his son. Watching that show we all become awe-struck children. Who knew that afterwards I would be captivated, driving home thinking not of the polar bears or the orca whales but of a little caterpillar? The woolly-bear caterpillar of the Arctic spends 90% of its life frozen and the remaining percentage eating in June and in hibernation. They freeze, thaw, eat; freeze, thaw, eat. Finally after many years of this, some do this for 14 years, they experience metamorphic release becoming a moth. I woke up thinking about how alike we are the wooly-bear and I. Been thinking of how often I am frozen with grief, sadness, anger or anxiety only to begin again once more and recapture hope, happiness, contentment, joy. Every day is a chance to rescue and nurture myself again.
So much has happened this year. Just when I think I am doing great a new wave of emotion washes over me. Grief -as the writer Adam Rapp reminds us- "does not expire like a candle or the beacon on a lighthouse. It simply changes temperature." I watch the fluctuations of my temperature dance as I continue on with my day: freezing, thawing, eating; freezing, thawing, eating...
One day metamorphosis and then,
flying.
The heart has a range of motion
In the last few months I've felt angry, anxious, depressed, tired. Lately I have been feeling hopeful, content, even brave. A new song emerges from many yoga teachers. It seems we are finding our own voice, as individuals and as part of a grand collective. Every day, a full life is lived as the heart winds and unwinds.
I hope all of us can continue to live fully each unpredictable & glorious day, experiencing the range of motion of our feelings and experiencing the movement of the flow of life. Let us not be afraid of our feelings, of change, and of the unpredictable nature of life.
The body of the universe
Yesterday I drove to take my friend Tara's class. On my way over to the studio I drove by yellow flowers that reminded me of the large intestine. On the next block I drove by some trees and suddenly I had the image of the branches that exists inside the lungs & the tree of veins, arteries and nerves which branch out throughout our bodies. I had the sudden insight that I was moving inside a body, the body of the universe. That what was outside was inside and what was inside was outside. Mystic sages have been stating this for thousands of years. Yesterday I felt it, not as a philosophical idea but as a visceral truth. I am moving inside the body of the universe. I am home.
Reflections on the last day of Gil Hedley's Workshop
At first it seems like 6-days is a long time for a dissection workshop. But in truth I wish we had a year to explore this magnificent body. On the last day we spent a lot of time on the brain: looking, peeking, and exploring deep into the grey. I traced my fingers through the labyrinth-like rivulets hoping to find a way in or out. Gil dove us deeper through the layers that covered the brain and opened it to find the pineal and the pituitary gland. We stood for a moment, our white lab coats by now soaked in formaldehyde and blood, as Gil guided us into accessing these two glands in our own bodies. The pineal -to me- felt more grounding and stabilizing, while the pituitary felt more lifting and effulgent. In this workshop you not only see and palpate where things are but you get to embody the inside.
Every now and then I would go to the next table and find "Pearl's" arm. I continued, like a diligent monk reciting his prayers, peeling muscle, superficial and deep fascia to reveal the bones. I found what I was longing for since last year's workshop: the elbow joint. There is no greater beauty for me than to watch the way the radius bone literally rolls over the ulna as you supinate and pronate the arm. It is a wonder in mechanics, an answer to solving the problem of receiving and giving. I held "Pearl's" arm and bent it as I pronated and supinated her lower arm. I looked at the elbow joint for a long time, how it rolls over so easily, "Maria," I kept saying to myself- "Please remember this moment, please, body remember." I showed my fellow somanauts- one of them thanked me for clearing for him how the radius rolled over. Gil actually taped me moving the elbow joint for his own recordings. I kept walking around the room, table to table, "Would you like to see the elbow joint?" Everything was shared, everyone receptive to the gifts we all helped uncover.
I then moved my attention to the scapula, the boldest bone I know. This is one strange bone: triangular at the bottom like Africa, and upstairs the spine of the scapula creates a ledge large enough for a bird to perch on. The supraspinatus muscle also has a nice trench for itself that fingers can run to and fro, and oh the dents, hills, cliffs and surprises continued onto the coracoid and the acromion process. My hungry hand kept exploring, touching, sensing. I got closer and saw rives of veins forging through. At one moment I held the scapula against the light and behold, I could see through it! It was translucent. Now when I wave, grab, reach, and move my hand I think that sunlight is moving through my bones, illuminating each movement.
At the end of the workshop we had a closing ceremony were we made a circle around the dead and then shortened the circle so it only held the living. We said goodbye, hugging, making promises of staying in touch and seeing each other next year. As I hugged Gil and my fellow somanauts I imagined light pouring through us; I felt life living itself.
May I share all the gifts "Pearl" gave us and all the generous gifts Gil Hedley' allowed us to witness and these intrepid group of somanauts helped uncover.
May all of us know that sunlight passes through us.
May we continue to discover and allow the light to move within and without.
Fifth day of Gil Hedley's Dissection Workshop
Today we continued to plunge into the depths of the human form: for some people in my group that meant the brain, for others it meant the lungs, for me it was the heart. I came in this morning prepared with a diagram of Dr. Torrent-Guasp's helical heart on how to unwind the heart. I invited the group to join me in this exploration. We all started together but then Yuko (a lovely & wise Acupuncturist from Japan) and I spent the rest of the day figuring out how to unwind the helical shape of the heart. We separated it from the chest, and then the lungs. Then we removed the atria, aorta, pulmonary and coronary arteries, as well as some superficial fascia (yes we all have fat in our hearts). Then after many false starts, asking for help from our fellow somanauts, going up to Gil about 4 times and being gratefully distracted by one of his amazing speeches (for this is not only a dissection workshop but also a philosophy workshop and I am so blessed whenever Gil goes off about one topic or another) we then found our way. We pressed our thumbs gently against the trail of some downward pointing fibers and the heart began to reveal itself to us, literally unraveling like a fist relaxing into an open palm. There we were winding and unwinding the heart, with tears in our eyes. We passed the heart around, we showed people. At the end Yuko and I hugged, our hearts resonating with one another. We thanked "Pearl" for all the gifts that she has given us in her most generous act of her life, letting go of her human form and letting strangers soak in her beauty.
I left tired but grateful for such a privileged experience. I keep thinking of one of Gil's speeches today about how "movement is the orientation of the form." How -as I understood it- it is the movement of the fluid that inspires and creates our form. I shouted out without thinking for I am usually shy in groups, "So Gil, Form Follows Flow!" And he smiled and said yes. I thought of how whatever pulsation we are experiencing inspires the next form our lives will take. I've been thinking so much lately about the Anusara ex-pats. I am curious and hopeful as to how our pumping and beating together of all of us yogis for the first time as a community is creating an unknown form. I cannot wait to see wait is next.
4th day of Gil Hedley's Dissection Workshop
A few brief notes on the fourth day:
Today I spent a long time with the shoulder, dissecting away the deltoid, serratus anterior and rhomboids to reveal the 4 Rotator Cuff muscles and their tendons. The Rotator Cuff muscles all emerge out of the scapula and join in at the head of the humerus. The subscapularis literally lives inside the anterior shell of the scapula. I just closed my eyes for a second and imagined the back of my lungs breathing into my subscapularis. They all wrap themselves tightly at the head of the arm bone, securing it in place. Four friends making a pact to keep the most mobile joint of the body -the glenohumeral joint- in place. I look forward to exploring this joint even more tomorrow at the Lab and with my own arms!
In the afternoon we got to the viscera and we entered surreal country. I was looking forward to seeing my favorite organ: the greater omentum. I never heard of the greater omentum before I did Gil's workshop last year. Homer wrote about it in The Odyssey. 19th Century surgeons referred to it as "The Abdominal Policeman," and yet most of us have little awareness of this organ. Every cadaver that is dissected will show the organ in a different place. The reason why it changes position is because The greater omentum floats towards places where there are infection in the body or trauma, inserting itself there as a way of relieving whatever illness is there. One of our cadavers, a man we have named "Victor" died of septis and his greater omentum was wrapped under his liver, like a blanket. Another cadaver had it on top of his Intestines. "Pearl" who died of Pancreatic cancer appears not to not have it, which is very common since Gil was explaining how many surgeons will often take it out. "There are two kinds of surgeons," Gil said: "Cowboy surgeons and Anal Surgeons. You want the Anal Surgeon."
To know that we have an organ that literally glides around the abdominal cavity like a traveling mendicant in order to help relieve pain fills me with hope and awe. It reminds me of the goodness of the body. And it reminds me of my friends, fellow teachers, ex-pats where we become the greater omentum, wrapping our words and energy around one another during these days grief and transformation.
Third Day of Gil Hedley's Workshop
A glimpse of my Third-day of Gil Hedley's Dissection Workshop
Today we dove into the muscle layer. I found myself falling in love with the five-finger spread, fan-like Pectoralis Major muscle. I pulled with my hemostat and scalpel the filmy clear cotton-candy fascia which drapes over it for at least an hour. I revealed strands of muscle fibers which extend from sternum and clavicle, and traced the muscle looping and inserting itself with a firm tendon onto the humerus.I found myself stretching my arm and imagining the muscle underneath moving from clavicle & sternum to humerus. Later when I got to the hotel and was glove-free & clean I placed my right hand over the right Pec feeling the insertion points. I closed my eyes reveling in how the hand looks like the muscle and then traced my hand towards the insertion point at the humerus and continued to open, feeling my whole chest stretch. What joy in learning muscles this way- no boring memorization but rather observing, palpating, watching muscles move and then embodying them.
Something interesting happened at the Lab.
I noticed some fibers of the Pec inserted onto the Deltoid as well. I kept checking my Anatomy book. How could it be? The books say it goes into the humerus, not the Deltoid? I often don't believe my eyes or trust my gut so I called over some other somanauts. Yep, they agreed, my eyes were right, there were fibers of the Pec going into the Deltoid making the two muscles look like one. Gil constantly says to let the cadavers correct the anatomy books, not the other way around. What a wonderful teacher to remind us of that. I thought of how often I see things and keep quiet because I don't trust myself even when the evidence is there and I literally choose "go by the books." May I trust what I see and feel. What a privilege to be with a group of people both here at the Lab and to have connected also to a community of teachers through facebook, most of whom have resigned from Anusara who are trusting our intuition and the evidence in front of us and "correcting the books."
***Happy Birthday Mami! Today is your birthday. You gave me life and continue to nurture my life through your unconditional love and support. I adore you more than words can say. I am blessed to have you here and look forward to hugging you, listening to your voice and witnessing our lives evolve and continue to develop. May you get many calls today and expressions of how much you are loved. xoxo Maria
Second day of Gil Hedley's Workshop
Some thoughts on my second day of my 6-Day Dissection Workshop with Gil Hedley...
The body is one. All the anatomy books that we have are in many ways an illusion- muscles are not labeled, colored and distinct. When we touch someone, say we are massaging their back, we are not just rubbing their Trapezius muscle. We are massaging skin, superficial fascia, deep fascia, Traps. It is all one. You can try to isolate as best as you can say the Psoas Major but you will inevitable come in contact with skin, superficial fascia, deep fascia and other muscles along the way...
Last year I focused on the leg. This year I chose to focus on the shoulders. I have been painstakingly and lovingly dissecting away. Now I am at the deep fascia and underneath the filmy fabric I see the many muscles of the shoulder awaiting the decisions of my incision. I pause, put my scalpel down and grabbed "Pearl's" arm. I started to move it as if she was doing "Cactus Pose." As soon as I lowered her arm back down I saw the fibers of her Triceps move simultaneously both up and down. Some went up, some went down. I called Mackie, my dear friend and we both witnessed it. Afterwards I started to think how in Anusara we talked about Muscular Energy as having three currents:
1) From skin to muscle and from muscle to bone (by the way where is the fascia in this?)
2) From periphery to midline
3) From outside to focal point
And yet I saw with my own eyes how muscle fibers of the same muscle are some going away from the origin and others moving towards the origin. Muscular Energy was described to me often as "a hug that goes from insertion to origin of the muscles." I started to think of how much more softer and powerful our movements become when instead of thinking of energy going from the outside in, we imagine a dance of fibers happening multi-directionally and multi-dimensionally.
*Tomorrow is mom's birthday. Once more I write a memory of gratitude that I have of my mother. When I had my car accident in 1988, I almost died. I lost about 75% of my blood. After I healed and left the hospital and moved on, my mother made a promise. She promised she would donate her blood to the Red Cross as gratitude for all the blood I received from donors, which saved my life. She spent the next (14 years, I believe) donating blood to strangers. My hero, my mom.
