My Crow Stats
Bakasana continues to elude me. It has taken me years just to get both feet off the ground. Now I can hold it for all of a nanosecond before I come crashing down to my mat. The antidote to my Crow woes is Power Flow & Fly, a vinyasa flow geared toward arm balance asanas. Below is "Before," stay tuned for "After." Thanks Travis for the awesome photo! |
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Before
Cracking the Crow Code
Bakasana is one of those poses that in my mind indicates an advanced level of proficiency in yoga. Getting into and holding this pose takes some time to figure out. Balancing the entire torso and legs like this is no easy feat. The yogi needs a strong core to lift and hold the legs up off the floor and point the feet upward. The downward tilt of Bakasana brings the ground awfully close to the face, so close that it almost makes face planting into the ground a done deal.
Those who have mastered this pose tell me that it is all about trust. How I hate hearing that, especially as my head dangles forward while I precariously balance on weak arms, unable to find the elusive balance that will let me take flight. At best, I hold Bakasana for 2 seconds and then fall out of it either right or left to avoid face planting.
Trust does not come easily in Bakasana or Crow or Crane. All balance poses induce some fear and trepidation of losing balance and falling. Balance is fluid, a constant motion of tiny micro adjustments to each passing moment. Sometimes my balance waivers and becomes unsteady, out-of-sync. That point of instability makes falling almost inevitable along with a crushing sense of failure and frustration.
Some people learn Bakasana fairly quickly and have little trouble holding it. Not me. I have spent years just trying to lift both feet off the ground. In countless yoga classes I struggled just to keep one leg up while trying not to fall flat on my face. My arms burned and shook as sweat poured down my face from exertion.
Often, I would crash onto the floor immediately after trying to pull both legs up. I felt sorry for my yoga teachers who would come to my mat to make sure I was OK.
Not very yogic of me to strain and struggle but I want to be able to do this pose so badly. Talk about attachment, the very opposite of yoga's teaching about detachment from expectations and desires. At least my perseverance has paid off, bringing me closer to cracking the crow code and taking flight.
Trust does not come easily in Bakasana or Crow or Crane. All balance poses induce some fear and trepidation of losing balance and falling. Balance is fluid, a constant motion of tiny micro adjustments to each passing moment. Sometimes my balance waivers and becomes unsteady, out-of-sync. That point of instability makes falling almost inevitable along with a crushing sense of failure and frustration.
Some people learn Bakasana fairly quickly and have little trouble holding it. Not me. I have spent years just trying to lift both feet off the ground. In countless yoga classes I struggled just to keep one leg up while trying not to fall flat on my face. My arms burned and shook as sweat poured down my face from exertion.
Often, I would crash onto the floor immediately after trying to pull both legs up. I felt sorry for my yoga teachers who would come to my mat to make sure I was OK.
Not very yogic of me to strain and struggle but I want to be able to do this pose so badly. Talk about attachment, the very opposite of yoga's teaching about detachment from expectations and desires. At least my perseverance has paid off, bringing me closer to cracking the crow code and taking flight.