When we practice together, we devote almost a quarter of our time working on "balancing" poses (that's not the fancy, Sanskrit term, but you get the idea). The poses aren't easy; neither are they mastered quickly. It takes time, patience, humility, and--above all--an ability to concentrate our focus. Some days, we balance well. Others, we wobble, tip, and even fall out of the poses. And that's okay. Why would we spend so much time working on asanas that aren't completely attainable? What are the benefits of working so hard just to teeter over or grab for the security of a wall?
The first part of the answer is that balance poses work the entire body, especially the core or "powerhouse" muscles of the abs, gluts, chest, and back. Standing balance poses such as Utkatasana (awkward pose or chair) give us an opportunity to strengthen the quads and our shoulders as well as our core. Yet another standing balance pose, Attanasana or forward fold, lengthens the hamstrings and allows the lower back to relax. One-legged balance poses--Garudasana or eagle, Vrksasana or tree, Natarajasana or king dancer, Virabhadrsasana III or warrior III, Ardha Chandrasana or half-moon--require that one leg takes on the majority of our body weight. Arm balance poses such as Bakasana or crow, develops arm strength and our ability to move our center of gravity forward without toppling over. As we do these poses, we all discover that we have irregularities and asymmetry. One side of our body may be more dominant or developed. Alternating the poses from side to side helps us correct that imbalance. As we work on balance poses, we become more symmetrical, flexible, and, well,
balanced.
And part of the reason why we do balance poses is to explore the experience of learning something new. As children, every one of us spent many, many hours working on our balance as we progressed from holding our heads up, sitting up, standing without help, and finally walking. The process took most of us the better part of the first year of our lives, and we developed those skills with an almost single-minded dedication. (Ask anyone about a baby's determination to walk.) Despite all the wobbling, tipping, falling, bumping, and false starts, we kept at our goals. If we fell, we got up, again and again. Never once did any of us say, "That's too hard for me. I quit." Every one of us mastered the skills and we all manage to walk into the Group X room for yoga. Call on your earliest past when you do balance poses: you'll get there. You went from a complete lack of coordination to walking within less than two years, when you weren't even old enough to speak in full sentences. You've done the difficult once; with the same amount of patience and a resilient attitude, you will do it again. There's no failure.
And finally, take a look at this familiar illustration from Ted Giesel's (Dr. Seuss) book,
The Cat in the Hat. This is a character who really knows how to balance. If you are familiar with the story, I don't have to tell you that the zany cat managed to stay calm within a roiling sea of chaos and confusion. And when the tale ends, all is calm and peaceful. That's the intangible benefit of practicing balance poses. Our abilities to focus, to center our thoughts, to calm our breathing, and to be philosophical about the wobbles--that's why we practice those crazy poses. They help us stay a little more grounded and even a bit more secure within ourselves.
Namaste,
Nancy