Wild Yoga

yoga and thought from Theo Wildcroft

Wild Yoga Vinyasa 2: Embodying The Warrior

Wild Yoga Experiment: Vinyasa 2 (Embodying the Warrior)

  • 20m: Intro

    • Welcome + energy levels

      • So, then, the questions we are asking are:

        • How do we find our own practice?
        • How do we share what we find?
        • How do we go deeper?
        • What are we looking to find?
      • “My name is [name] and tonight I bring [quality/feeling].”
        “Namaste [name] we welcome your [quality/feeling].”
      • Some practicalities
    • Prayers: (join hands)

      • Honouring and naming the spirits of place and all those seen and unseen that make it possible for us to be here tonight
      • “With great respect and love, I honour my heart, my inner teacher” (x3)
    • Theme: Embodying the Warrior

      • What does fierceness look like? Can we channel positive anger? How do we burn for change?
  • 15m: Open

    • Follow along and adapt opening pawanamuktasana style stretches from seated > standing
  • 15m: Flow

    • I led a Dru EBR6 vinyasa – lots of focusing and releasing of energy, smooth movements all standing, that feels a lot like Chi Kung
    • Taking turns to lead around the circle: one moves, all follow without need for instruction
  • 15m: Wild

    • All move in your own way
    • Be inspired by your body; be inspired by others; don’t be afraid to be still
    • No pushing, no rush, no holding back
    • Be safe, be held, be free, step up
    • Come to stillness in your own time
  • 15m: Bhakti

    • Singing or listening to: Om Mata Kali, Kali Durge Ma
    • Poems were read (see end), plus a piece from Women Who Run With The Wolves from Sue
    • Join hands, give thanks:

      • We gave thanks in turn: “I give thanks for[…]”
      • “In this place, at this time, I discover […]
      • “We swear by peace and love to stand,
        Heart to heart and hand to hand.
        Mark, O spirits and hear us now,
        Confirming this our sacred vow.” (x3)
  • 15m: Still

    • Mini YN – Embodying the Warrior:

      • Nyaasa practice: encoding the image of the warrior in the marma points around the body
      • Exploring: How do I burn for change?
  • 10m: Return (Prasad)

    • Sharing cake and thoughts.
    • Reminder: 11th Mar – Satsang; 1st Apr Vinyasa: Aging (Dis)gracefully
      When do we slow down? How do we balance staying wild with taking care of ourselves?

The Journey – Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Self Portrait – David Whyte

It doesn’t interest me if there is one God
or many gods.
I want to know if you belong or feel
If you know despair or can see it in others.
I want to know
if you are prepared to live in the world
with its harsh need
to change you. If you can look back
with firm eyes
saying this is where I stand. I want to know
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing. I want to know
if you are willing
to live, day by day, with the consequence of love
and the bitter
unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even
the gods speak of God.

Here are my hands – Thich Nhat Hanh

Here are my hands.
Let me give them back to you,
but I pray
they will not be crushed again.

I have returned,
docile, surrendered,
without rancor at this great suffering.
I was born
under your star.
I was born for you.
I was born
to live ten thousand lives
with the heart of a child.

Here are my hands
that are also my heart, my mind,
my life —
all that remains.
Their sole power is
having bled
on the frets of love.

Here are my hands.
Let me give them back to you.
Mother taught us to love
the withered grass on tombs
even so,
the blooming roses.

For them,
as for everything,
love is
the immaculate morning dew.

Here are my hands.
With bowed head, I give them to you.
Look, the old wounds have yet to heal.
Their blood is still fresh,
and on the fingertips,
your soul may rest
as the dew rests,
on the trembling blades of grass.

Here are my hands,
reborn once again
but still carrying old wounds.
And here is my smile
because I never hated.
And here is my heart,
my pure heart
from days gone by.

Here are my hands,
brought back to you
unhealed beneath their bandages.
I pray
they will not be crushed again.
And I beg
the stars
to be my witness.