Tuesday 9 December 2014

Yoga and the Art of Lying Down

I have stayed at several Ayurveda centres, and they all incorporated sessions of yoga in their programmes. But yoga is not something that comes naturally to me. I am not (and never have been) well-coordinated physically. Despite the fact that I rowed in my school’s First Eight at Henley Royal Regatta, I was hopeless at even the fundamentals of gymnastics. I think it broke my father’s heart, since he captained the school football team and also won a silver cup for the cross-country mile.

Yoga, as I have always imagined it - nigh impossible!
Yes, I have always had very negative feelings about my physicality, and it’s been a hang-up since my father first nick-named me “Jumbo” at the age of about three. It was an image I have tried to shed many times, and I decided that on this visit to Kerala, I would make the effort to join the early-morning yoga class and not let my clumsiness detract from my efforts to get some benefit out of the exercise.

Eagles soared threateningly overhead
And so, on Saturday morning, I made my way to the flat roof of the building at 7am, picked up a sponge yoga mat, and stretched out, enjoying the early morning warmth as I lay on my back and watched the eagles circling overhead. For a moment I wondered if they were vultures eyeing me over, but I think they were just Fish Eagles out for an early-morning soar.

The instructor arrived and the first part was easy. Breathing Through the Nose: I can do that. Then we did Standing Still with Feet Together: I pretty much had that mastered after a couple of attempts. We did Hands in the Air, Hands Out Sideways, and Head Turning to the Right and the Left. In a few minutes, I was full of confidence.

After that, things started to get more complicated, but the teacher was skilled at coaching students of a wide range of abilities, so that there was benefit for everyone. It was all about stretching and breathing, and it all made sense. I felt better for it, even if I still felt like the dummy in the class. At the end of the hour, I felt loose and more flexible; by Day Two, my toes were getting closer to my fingertips and I was glad I had decided to join the early morning group.

Arjay and Anand
Unfortunately, I had to change my plans on Day Three and give yoga a miss, at least for a day. The problem was that my two masseurs, Arjay and Anand, had been focusing on my lower back, and since the previous evening, I had been totally unable to move around anywhere, without using a walking stick.

Arjay and Anand are the two top therapists at Mattindia, and they really do know how to “hit the spot.”  Let me describe the fundamentals of Ayurvedic massage.
The massage bench is more than 2 metres long and is one solid piece of hardwood, treated and stained by years of massage oil and other medications. 
Traditional Ayurveda massage bench

I start by sitting sideways, with the two therapists standing one in front and one behind me. While Arjay supports my chest, Anand starts to work on my back, alternating between broad, gentle strokes and moments when he presses his thumbs on my spine and seems to be trying to rearrange the vertebrae. He locates pressure points and I gasp, groan and squeal as he pushes hard into my back. Then they switch roles and Anand supports my back while Arjay takes a turn at being the  torturer and starts to work on my chest, reaching up to concentrate on my shoulders and the side of my neck – both of which have been mildly troublesome for several months.

I then lie on my back while more oil is applied and they start on the full length of my body, switching between long, soothing strokes from my chest to my ankles and exquisite pain as one or other of them decides to work on the sole of my foot, or the inside of my thigh.

Finally, I lie down, covered with a thin cotton sheet while the two guys pour streams of hot, medicated water all over me. It is the most heavenly sensation,  and more than compensates for the anguish of the pressure-points.

I limped away from my session today, but although my back aches painfully, I noticed that my posture has changed and I am definitely walking more upright. Maybe I'll make it to yoga tomorrow.

2 comments:

  1. What a spell to grow up under — your father called you "Jumbo" at the age of three! People of that generation just didn't know what they were doing.

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    1. Because it was said without any malice, it actually had no association with size, buffoonery or clumsiness. Dad used it as a pure term of affection.
      However, the probability is that deep down he was referring to my size , , ,at a subconscious level.

      It is only in the past decade or so that I have started to feel the sting and scar of the name.

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