Ashtanga and the Reluctant Yogi: A Love Story
By April Dykman, Yoga Yoga Ashtanga student

When I was in college, I tried a couple of yoga classes over the course of three or four years. I didn't get it. Yoga seemed to be a lot of glorified stretching, and as a fairly flexible person, I found the classes, well, boring.

At the time, I spent seven days a week in a dojo or a boxing gym. I craved the calm after the adrenaline storm. I often joke that I spend half of my life in my own head, but after an hour or two of complete focus and the physical exertion of sparring a few rounds, my mind would be still.

When my martial arts instructor left the school, our class disbanded, though there were other reasons we left. Many of us tried other schools, but never found the same magic.

Five years later, the Yoga at Work program from Yoga Yoga came to my organization. I had no plans to register, thinking back to my previous experiences with yoga. Thankfully, two of my coworkers were rather insistent that I join them. I participated once a week. It was a nice break in the middle of the day.

Our teacher, Susan S., began to introduce surya namskara A and B into our sequence, and my interest was piqued. She also mentioned that this David Swenson guy was doing a workshop at Yoga Yoga. He practiced something called Ashtanga. I decided to use a free class pass she had given me to try it out.

After that class, I knew one thing: I needed a yoga towel because I thought I was going to slip and fall on my face. And that meant I'd be back for more.

Love at first asana

Ashtanga ignited a familiar feeling that had been dormant since my martial arts days. I couldn't explain what it was exactly, and I wasn't even aware of how badly I'd missed that feeling. My assumptions about yoga went out the window. There was no denying that something had clicked.

"Shut up; just shut up. You had me at surya namskara A."

I started attending class regularly and reading anything suggested to me, and I am starting to understand why Ashtanga felt like coming home. I've only practiced for six months, but hopefully I can adequately explain what drew me to the practice.

First, with martial arts and Ashtanga, I end practice tired and happy. As Gregor Maehle wrote in Ashtanga Yoga: Practice and Philosophy, one feels "like hugging one's enemy." Both practices also create a body that is strong and light.

Second, there is the withdrawal of the senses. When I was in martial arts or sparring in a boxing ring, my mind and body were wholly focused. In Ashtanga, I find the same still mind as my hearing is drawn inward through ujjayi, my sight is focused on the drishti, and I've brought attention to breath and bandhas. And while all of that is happening, I still have to get myself into some semblance of the asana! To do all of these things simultaneously requires my complete focus, and let's face it, even then it doesn't happen.

Third, Ashtanga, like martial arts, fosters a belief in myself. In martial arts, I'd look at a man three times my size, knowing that he was much stronger physically and I was about to spar with him. Not only would I get through it without a trip to the ER, but with focus, sometimes I'd surprise myself. The next time I had that much more confidence. Ashtanga has worked in a similar way. Being new, I was uncertain about starting a personal practice. What did I know? How could I think of practicing on my own without an experienced teacher? After getting over that, I was uncertain about Mysore-style classes. What if I forgot the postures? Isn't Mysore style for experienced practioners? Pushing past those fears boosted my confidence. Sometimes my belief in myself grows because I make headway on a challenging asana. Sometimes it's when I practice yoga off the mat, such as when I stop to think about my actions or I consider the possibility that I don't have all of the facts. In fact, the ways my Ashtanga practice has changed my life off the mat, in just six months, are more than I can explain in this article.

Finally, Ashtanga, like martial arts, got in the way of my life! Even though I was in college, I was in bed early on Friday night so I'd be ready to spar on Saturday morning. Lame, I know. Similarly, yoga has started to dictate when I eat, what I eat, and how much, since attempting a headstand after drinking a grande chai latte is ill-advised. (Yes, I learned that the hard way. No, a tall chai isn't any better than a grande.)

At this point, I know enough to know I have a lot to learn. Recently Kewal said that the best way to learn is to teach, and becoming a teacher is becoming a committed student. He said that during the first week of the Yoga Yoga Teacher Training intensive, in which I'm enrolled, all because this former reluctant yogi fell in love with Ashtanga.

April Dykman is a freelance writer and editor who also writes a fledgling personal practice blog.