Be still. Yin Yoga

We live in a world where we are bombarded with stimuli, stimuli that is available 24/7. Esther Ekhart.

I come from outside. I enter the building, I walk up the stairs. I see a wall, a door. I open the door, I enter the room.

A large, warm room, candles burning in glass bowls along the walls.

On the floor, a few yoga mats, a few people sitting, legs crossed, some are on their backs.

A belt, blocks, two blankets.

Silence. Stillness. Candles burning.

The yoga teacher comes across the room. Today she’s wearing colorful training pants, and a black blouse.

Music comes on. Soft, dreaming music, volume low.

Lights are dimmed.

It’s so easy to end up not switching off at all — to end up with a mind that is constantly busy processing all the information that’s thrown at it. Whether the information is good, valuable or rubbish, it doesn’t matter, the mind still needs to deal with it. Esther Ekhart.

The teacher says her name. She welcomes us. She speaks, a gentle and slightly monotonous stream of words and sentences, a warm voice. She gives instructions.

“Find yourself a sitting position. Legs crossed.”

“Take the belt around your lower back, and under your feet.”

The belt forms a loop, the ribbon holds the feet bent, the sole of the left foot towards the sole of the right foot.

“Sit on your back, let the feet be held by the belt, foot soles against foot soles.”

We listen, we’re going to follow her instructions throughout the next 60 minutes.

“Then let the upper body bend backwards as far as you can. Lay carefully down on your back.”

The teacher becomes silent. I stay in the position, a restful, peaceful moment. A few minutes silence, eyes closed, not very unlike Savasana.

The teacher tells us to breathe five times. Breathe long, breathe deeply.

We enter into a new position, the right leg bent under me, the left leg straight forward. The teacher tells us to lean backwards, if possible until we lie on our backs, one leg bent, the other one straight forward.

I stretch, I feel pain on the upper side of my bent leg. The thigh is painful. I tell myself I must endure. I must stay in the position, the same as the others. I have to go deeper into the position. But I cannot.

The thigh is painful. I keep my thigh bent under me. It is painful. I feel muscles being stretched.

Seconds go, minutes go. Little by little I notice that the pain in my thigh diminishes.

I close my eyes. I am alone, I am inside myself. The world out there is at a distance, behind an invisible curtain.

The music hanging softly in the room, in my head. The yoga teacher talking to us again.

“Take another five deep breaths.”

I am bending myself, stretching. Bending, stretching my leg. Stretching the muscles. I can feel that something is changing. Body and mind.

I begin to float. I float in the room. With the music I float in the air, in the space over us. I can feel it. The sound and the noise have diminished. The mind has become more silent.

Something stops. And yet something is going on. — Something goes on. I am going on. In another mode. I feel like I’m in a new, a different state compared to when the class started.

Body.

Mind.

I keep my eyes closed. I stretch out. I feel the pain in my leg is gone. I feel my neck, different now.

I am relaxed. Feeling the pain go away. Low shoulders.

I am staying in positions, I am bending, bowing. Floating.

I am high in the room. I hover. I am floating in the space under the high ceiling.

I am inside myself, I am in my Self.

Be still.

April 2018

Øivind