Yoga Training Rishikesh

I certainly was not expecting to fit the usual demographic of yoga teachers in the west. In India, ALL our teachers matched my demographic in terms of sex and age (with suitable variance for allowable for age). I hadn’t given that much thought before and I still don’t think those factors impacted my experience to any tangible extent, other than a direct appreciation for the people that were involved. I would hope that demographics wouldn’t affect me because I was determined to learn from inspiring and knowledgeable yogis, so the choice of school was pertinent, not the age and sex of the teachers. But I suppose they demonstrated the cultural difference in attitude towards yoga between westerners and Indians. The more notable male involvement by Indians helped me refine my own communication methods and hopefully, influenced my teaching style for the better. I had wanted to receive this type of teaching as I got more serious about my yoga practice yet this experience dissolved those expectations, and achieved something else altogether. T

I was expecting there to be more females than males taking the course, and this was the case. We had 5 men and 12 ladies (about) on the 200-hour course and a smaller group taking the 300-hour course from mid-September to mid-October. Together, we got along beautifully as a group and continue to celebrate the shared success of completing the course. The physical body stores emotions and memories and the intensity of opening-up* can take you through the experiences that caused stress. Or that is how I experienced it, and I know that others flowed through emotional moments that belonged totally to them. The support that was given liberally and evenly throughout the experience was done with kindness, by good souls.

After paying the cab driver, I checked in and met Uncle on the Tuesday night that I arrived. He would be entitled as a facilities manager in western parlance, but Uncle was the perfect name/title for him and it was what everyone knew him by. I had to be quick as dinner had been served in the dining hall and I was feeling a strange mix of hunger and excitement in my gut, after 20 hours of travel. I dropped my bags in my room and rushed down to find a table of 10 or so people, finishing dinner and chatting. A few of them had started their 300-hour course, which ran consecutively but started a day before and finished 2 days after. I was chatty and inquisitive while doing my best to remember as many names as I could. I loved the experience and hoped that I had made a good impression, knowing that we were together for what would be a very challenging month.

Later, when I went to get some hot water from the dining hall, there were some more people eating dinner and that was when I met Elena. I remember the first few words we said to each other along with every moment since. Seldom, does meeting someone move you so much. Thunderbolt city had a few new taxpayers. This meeting also made for numerous other tales and experiences that might fit a separate blog more appropriately – but not likely. However, the significance of that moment deserves to be on all the blogs.

The night soon ended and although I had made some introductions, I was no wiser to who I was sharing this time with. The next day would be more informative as we partook in our opening ceremony after which, a group of us headed toward “The Waterfall” for the first time. It was stiflingly hot and humid and the idea of cooling down in a Himalayan mountain pool was attractive to a group of around 8 of us. We finished lunch and headed right, out the gates of AYM and up the hill, to find the pools formed by the mountain stream. We called our spot – The Waterfall – but it was more of a waist deep pool of flowing Himalayan water. Only about 10 or 15 minutes from the school, but the incline was quite steep, so the fresh mountain water was needed to cool off, urgently.

It was during this group outing that I first felt connected with the people on the course. We all shared stories that illuminated some of the personal motivations for yoga, many of which involved someone with cancer and it was apparent that the reasons we had individually, for developing our practice were quite aligned and this brought quick connections between us. This type of course is attractive to a diverse group of people but often with similar experiences and feelings, which helped stir my awareness with attention toward parallels and an aura of equality among us. I think that the mutual respect created on that day helped group cohesion throughout the course and I remember it fondly. We made (me especially) bad yoga jokes, to get into the spirit of things and jumped into the biggest pool we could find, that came to be known as “The Waterfall”. If I could be there now, I would be.

All my new connections impressed me with the charm that they demonstrated, and they practiced yoga beautifully. I’m sure many of them will go onto become excellent teachers of yoga and the world is a better place for the effort and commitment they applied to a physically and mentally demanding course. The lessons were pure and the group worked diligently. I knew that meeting these people was going to be a blessing and I miss them, so I shall wish them the very best! This blog is dedicated to meeting y’all and the honour. x

The experiences that I initially thought led me to undertake the 500-hour Yoga Teacher Training Course in India are recent but the more I learn, the more connected I feel all my experiences are. I first took a lesson with a wonderful Dutch yogini called Jeanette, poolside on a holiday in Spain. That spurred me to join a Bikram studio in south west London in early 2008. I recall taking those first few classes and feeling a sense of familiarity mixed with awe and attraction to this natural practice. Jeanette and the other teachers seemed so knowledgeable and although you don’t tend to remember a lot from a yoga class, it all made sense during, and I was left feeling liberated, at the end of each class. My understanding of chakras and prana (energy) was basic, but I listened intently and learned about Ujjayi breath while following precise instructions. Yoga was a mysterious challenge.

Physically it was demanding, especially my early experience, doing Hot Bikram Yoga. The classroom was always full and the temperature set at 40 degrees Celsius. Many of the students were female and much more flexible than I was, so I would always feel like a beginner. My practice was also irregular. It was something that I wanted to do, much more than I did. So, it would be an achievement just to get to a class and roll out the mat but improvements were frustratingly slow. The Vinyasa and Hatha classes that followed my Bikram experiences would also be a physical challenge but I would feel the connection of body and mind through the practice, and take home a tremendous sense of wellbeing. Other than this base level of understanding and doing something healthy, I had little appreciation for the broad topic of Yoga. I knew that I would sweat and that a lot of the time, I would feel uncomfortable, but I didn’t really understand why this was so important. Focus on this dissolves once you’ve entered Shavasana (Corpse pose at the end of practice) and the earned feeling of calm was all that would remain. Yoga was a journey.

What I did fully appreciate, was that the practice was my own personal experience. Whether it was straightening and balancing in Warrior 3 or the deep hamstring discomfort associated with long held forward-folds, the experience was totally personal. From receiving the instructions, to moving the body and settling into the posture – it all happened within my sphere of perception. The physical challenge was only a part of the overall experience, which included beginner’s fear, learning and following guidance as well as improvement and achievement. These aspects added dimensions that made for a unique experience compared to other activities. I’ve surfed, cycled and played many sports but only yoga gave me the feeling that I had at the end of a class. In this way, it felt like a spiritual practice but at this stage of my yoga journey, I did not understand why or how. Yoga calmed my mind.

Yoga was always there

The 2 months in Rishikesh were full of symbols that stirred old memories, some that might be more relevant to a previous life than my current one. The tree of life, the Hatha sun and moon and the lotus all reminded me of moments in my past. Here, I remembered a green hardback book that we had on the Yoga Sutras and the old copy of Asana Pranayama Mudra Bandha that we kept on the rack under the telephone, near the front door of my childhood home. My father worked with many Indian people, so these items would often arrive as gifts and I remember them giving our houses character. I would try to read or do yoga from these books, on quiet vacation days in my youth. These memories had not been stirred for over 20 years and they remain hazy but clarity is not required of them, to feel the entwining of yoga and my path. Yoga was always in my life, and this gave me a confidence that my life should involve yoga.

Before getting to Rishikesh, I felt that Yoga was associated with a great deal of knowledge. My actual awareness of the history and sutras was embarrassingly low. Sanskrit was baffling and the yogic sciences were new concepts but taking a class and the way I was experiencing each hour or 90 minute session was undeniably connecting with me. This made it easy for me to surrender to the instructions without the negative aspects of my own ego affecting personal expectations as I was just trying to perform the postures, by following to the teacher’s instructions. I didn’t know or give credence to what the Sanskrit names for the postures (asanas) meant or that there were spiritual and physiological benefits associated with what I was doing. I didn’t know that I was opening up channels for energy to flow but I knew there was more to the practice than simple beneficial exercise. We usually like to understand why we are doing something but with yoga, I felt it was more important to practice and with that experience, gain the understanding. I hadn’t considered studying it before and was content with my stance, kind-of-knowing that I was going to find out more, one day. Yoga was a source of information, manifested through experience.

Yoga was a mysterious challenge. Yoga was a journey. Yoga calmed my mind Yoga was always in my life, and this gave me a confidence that my life should involve yoga. Yoga was a source of information, manifested through experience.

I decided to use the taxi service, organized by the school to make the journey from the megacity to the holy city. It was about midday when I met the driver at the exit for the Delhi International Airport Arrivals. He was waiting with a sign and it was hot enough to start sweating in track pants and t-shirt, just pushing the trolley outside the terminal buildings. I had hoped, as it was a day before the course started, that there would be other students on the flight or at least sharing this cab-ride but I was the only passenger on this leg of the journey. I looked forward to meeting my new friends and could wait a few more hours.

The traffic in Delhi is as busy as you can imagine. A variety of vehicles and animal powered carts cover the lanes and the use of the horn is constant and literally pantomimical (I’m behind yooouuu!!!). It takes a few hours just to breach the city limits and I was afforded air conditioning while taking the industrial sights and heading toward the main motorway north. The driver was a very cool, relaxed guy and we chatted a bit about his own yoga practice after a brief introduction and the obligatory conversation about Sachin Tendulkar. Happy in the backseat, I started to make notes, take pictures and imagine what lay ahead. It was September in India, the end of the rainy season. I was headed towards Rishikesh – a mystical town on the Ganges, in the foothills of the Himalayas -  that gets described as the capital of yoga - this practice that I have done as a beginner for 10 years.

I found it very difficult to imagine what lay ahead and purposefully left my mind and objectives as open as they could be. I wanted simple things to happen. I wanted to learn and to meet new people, that share the interest and passion for yoga that I had felt. The 250km car ride, took nearly 8 hours and the horn was used for most overtaking manoeuvres, so it was not always possible to sleep or dream too much. (Could the drive have been an early test on my sadhana (yoga journey) – probably not!) I enjoyed it nonetheless and took in many different sights, including big statues of Shiva in famous places like Haridwar. I could have flown up closer and saved myself 6 hours but would have missed out on the roadside views. I got to observe and become aware of the atmospheres and culture in towns, leading toward the Himalayas and passed many pilgrims and temples, continuing to excite my expectations for the next 2 months.

The flight from London is easy. You just sit down, knowing that you are going to be in a warm and exciting place and let the crew do all the work. I watched a few Marvel movies, so that I could fall asleep without missing anything important and closed my eyes in expectation of the yoga journey that lay ahead. I ate my last non-vegetarian meal and enjoyed the last mini bottle of red wine before the 2 month / 500 hour teaching program started. The yoga schools in India do not serve meat, in line with the yogic principle of making non-painful choices - possibly the most pertinent of all the lessons I was to learn. 

I landed and was processed with little difficulty but it still requires a base layer of patience, due to the number of people traveling to the global destination that is: Delhi. The airport is world class and my only worry was withdrawing cash, which took a few calls and numerous efforts but eventually, this was achieved and the road journey to Rishikesh was underway. 

It's about 5am and I'm back in London. Very much looking forward to seeing and hearing from friends and family but my heart remains on the journey. Last night I left Morocco but the real journey is to get back there.

Taghazout is my home right now. Rishikesh is my university and my yoga practice is developing from a passion into an understanding.

To be back in London means that I have my bike and a ton of places to discover yoga. I'm looking forward to interesting conversations and random clues that will help shape my travels to India. Recognizing these when they happen is not always obvious but doing so led me to Morocco, which led me to Rishikesh and is why I'm here, right now. On a train approaching Croydon. The ashram will be home soon enough.

The journey feels right. There are emotions that I don't understand yet but they are good. I've got planes in my veins and I'm good to go.

“You’re going to Rishikesh. I’m so jealous.” Amy exclaimed in her tactful Parisien English.

“Good” I said, “I am doing something right if you’re jealous.”

Amy was my first yoga teacher in Morocco and her classes are full of connections because she understands her own body so well. Her yoga journey and experiences compliment her teaching style and she challenges students to open their bodies and minds simultaneously.

As my own practice improves, it has become increasingly important for me to find great teaching and I look forward to classes with Amy as they do not happen all that often. Today might be last time she teaches me until I complete my yoga teacher training course in India and return to Morocco.

Amy’s class started with music and lying in corpse pose. She guides your mind through a great release and into a state of relaxation and focus, like dreamland - the practice of yoga nidra as I perceive it. The feeling of existing, almost floating and also sinking into your mat as your body sleeps while the mind stays alert to keep your breath and stillness constant. Time doesn’t matter here. Only quality.

My intention for the practice was to listen to my body and to put 100% into each pose. My teacher was not told this but with yoga, that’s not always necessary. Amy gave me the right guidance and motivation when these intentions were ignored, without needing to know the words I spoke to myself.

Pranayama follows the 10 minute corpse pose and really helps your cleanse the body, internally. I love starting class this way and really feeling like it’s a yoga class, rather than fitness or stretching class, brings the connection that I am looking for so that yoga can be achieved, rather than simply done.

She introduces some flows, sun salutations and challenges as she builds rhythm and the sweat starts to drip onto my mat. I can feel my heart increase it’s tempo as it helps sensations travel through my veins to my muscles and organs.

Her warrior and angle sequences are delicately arranged and puzzle together for a fast flow. Then, like a river reaching the ocean, the practice ends and the rest of the day begins. I’ve flowed down the river and am in the ocean.

It must be time for a surf.

Deciding on the destination, not choosing the school, has been the most enjoyable part of the journey so far. Everyone I’ve spoken recently with about India has enthused love for the place and Rishikesh, in particular. It was in London that I spoke to a yogi about surfing/yoga retreats in Morocco. It was in Morocco that I spoke with a French ballerina about India and the options. The positives from the conversation guided me toward Rishikesh and was last night in Taghazout that I met a dude who’d just trained there. There was a decent effort in research but that has been interesting and will be useful. The real fun has been the flow. Like yoga, there were a few stretches, it was challenging and enjoyable with focus on connecting with the breath. The connection helps calm the mind and things that you are doing for the first time, feel familiar. Deja vu is daily and the course is filling with me with inspiration.

Oh and it is the world capital of yoga.