Savasana: Corpse Pose - Psychotherapist and yoga teacher,
Michael Stone, looks at corpse pose.
Krishnamacharya, teacher of both Pattabhi Jois and
B.K.S. Iyengar, taught each of his students the same
approach to savasana. This article is a psychological
exploration of the posture as taught to me through this
lineage.
“…every
day, a little ‘bit dying.” Pattabhi Jois
At the end of our asana practice we
lie down, feet fallen outward, breath long, hands facing
the sky, for savasana, corpse pose. By all accounts,
corpse pose is considered the most difficult posture,
as we posture the mind and body to imitate a corpse.
“Most difficult for students,” says Sri
K. Pattabhi Jois, “not waking, not sleeping.”
When we are new to practice, the experience
of savasana is simply a rest after the arduous practice
of bending, stretching, and twisting the body into various
shapes. At first, savasana becomes just another form,
but a form seemingly void of technique, concept and
application.
In savasana, we let go of any particular
breathing technique and simply allow the breath to move
through its inherent inhaling and exhaling pattern.
As the breath finds its way through the open channels
of the body, the mind does so as well, by weaving itself
into the strands of thought and sensation that flow
through the body. When the breath is free, the mind
is free. When the breath is allowed to move naturally,
the mind settles into itself. When the mind relaxes,
the tongue and palette become spacious, the roof of
the mouth lifts and hollows and the central core of
the body opens.
While a busy mind is a consequence
of overpushing in yoga postures, then it’s opposite
is deep sleep during corpse pose. However, corpse pose
exists in the middle space between sleep and effort.
While sleeping seems to be the most common experience
of corpse pose (often dreaming is easier than surrendering
to the pose), sleeping keeps us from the depth and subtlety
of savasana. It’s not that there is anything “bad”
about sleeping or daydreaming, it’s just that
those states are considered unconscious, and the mind
maintains its state of conditioned existence while in
the state of sleep or reverie. From Patanjali’s
perspective of looking at hindrances, we could say that
we actively engage the imagination in order to avoid
the void of corpse pose. This “void” is
the inherent emptiness of the present moment.
What are we avoiding when we sleep
through corpse pose? When the breath slows down and
the mind begins to mingle with the threads of breath
and sensation that appear when we calm down, we connect
with deep feeling in the core of the body. Usually,
the mind tries all sorts of tricks to avoid coming into
contact with the feelings and sensations in the core
of the body. Again, from Patanjali’s notion of
avoidance strategies, we can say that our sense of ourselves
depends on relegating unwanted experiences to the corners
of the psyche and body where the radar that is perception
will not pick them up. And if something is picked up
– an uncomfortable thought, a disturbing sensation,
a memory – we call up our repertoire of avoidance
strategies and we take flight. Sleeping and daydreaming
are such flights.b
Most of the time, we live in loops
of distraction. Patanjali calls this avidya, or ignorance.
Ignorance is related to the act of avoidance. In Savasana,
however, we need not avoid. We simply notice, with evenly
hovering attention, whatever shows up, and then allow
it to pass on, to die, so that we can arrive in the
present moment. Savasana offers the possibility of “a
small death, every moment, every day,” says Pattabhi
Jois. Much of what we notice in yoga practice is our
patterns of attachment and repulsion. Swallowing or
spitting out, digesting and evacuating, accepting and
rejecting: all of these discriminative acts become ways
of sorting out what we can tolerate and what we refuse.
Yet part of the process of allowing our preconceptions
and our reactions to our anxieties to pass away is to
allow for our categories of the unacceptable to fall
away. When the discomforting thoughts arise, when the
sensations that pull us out of Savasana distract us,
we tether ourselves to the present moment by not swallowing
or spitting out the contents that emerge from the depths
of our body and mind. Instead we lie down with all of
our repulsions and all of our attachments, both of which
are sacred, both of which teach us about our strategies
of attraction and avoidance and where we are in relation
to the present moment. Observing these patterns allows
us to suspend those very strategies and surrender to
the feelings that we have been avoiding. This surrender
gives way to spaciousness in the mind and body. When
one practices this way there is space enough for everything.
When effort ceases we are able, if
only briefly, to die into corpse pose. The void is left
when the self is absent. When there are no views, no
conceptions, no thoughts, no ideas, the world is seen
in its actuality, with no filters, modifications, interpretations,
goals, and qualifications. In other words, as we allow
our conception of the world to pass on, we experience
the world as it is in itself. In this space, corpse
pose has no beginning or end and our awareness of time
dissolves. There is nothing to be done. Thinking comes
to a standstill and an intuitive dialectical knowing,
rather than a logical or rational understanding, occurs.
The gravity of savasana is surrendered to.
Savasana is the art of practicing our
death, little by little, every day. “If student
does not get up from savasana,” says Pattabhi
Jois, “or lifting student up (and he/she) is like
a stiff board, savasana is correct.” The aim of
yoga practice in daily life is to live vividly from
moment to moment without being stuck in thinking or
the idea of not-thinking. Wood floor, open window, blanket,
cushion, t-shirt, wool socks – there is something
profound just here. We are not trying to create an experience;
we are making room for experience to happen. Experience,
like the present moment, is always waiting for a place
to happen. The architecture of savasana requires us
to continually let the ground we are lying down on,
literally the ground of our thoughts and our bodies,
to fall away, until the constructs that frame our experience
pass on. This is an act of both dying and being born.
Our imagination makes us very busy exploring the world
of choices. In the end, there will be no choice, just
death. So in the center of your bumbling human life,
where you are always looking around for something better,
notice how the present moment is just a small death
away.
Acknowledgements; Michael Stone is a yoga teacher and
psychotherapist in private practice in Toronto. His
website is www.mindbodypsychotherapy.com. |