David Garrigues’ workshop in London -The razor’s edge: a balance of opposites

David Garrigues at Bay Yoga Berkhamsted last weekend

There was nothing terribly unfamiliar about David Garrigues’ workshop this weekend at Bay Yoga Berkhamsted. Anyone who, like me, has play-stop-played through some of David’s online asana kitchens, or read his enthusiastic blog posts would have recognized the man who chirpily strode into Berkhamsted town hall as the same David. What was unfamiliar to me (alert for nerds – look away now - I’m a through my own personal experience kind of person, I’m an ashtanga newishbie and I’ve no grand insight into breath counts or that sort of mullarkey), however, was a subtle change in my actions over the course of the weekend. Let me be clear about two things: I don’t ever write blog posts and I never ask questions in yoga workshops. Ever. And yet, as I write this now, I’m surprised to feel a strong pull to follow up Anthony’s suggestion for a guest blog post, and with a similar sense of surprise I watched myself write on the asana kitchen question sheet on Sunday morning, ‘I’ve never tried chakrasana and don’t know where to start.’

A theme that seemed to crop up and resonate for me throughout the weekend was a theme of opposites. They were everywhere, and David their master. From talking about triangle (feel the femur bone push up into the hip socket and ‘whoosh’ the energy travels down the leg into the floor) to gravity: no sooner had he implored us to be ‘low riders’ (as in car) and feel the magnetic pull of the earth he was urging us to resist the pull and lift up and out. We were held for some time in downward dog and talked through feeling the opposing pulls of apana vayu and prana vayu.  And, on a few occasions, were urged to find that place of stability that lies between the danger inherent in a pose and the place of a kind of lethargic comfort. I’m paraphrasing here (am I correct in remembering him call it ‘the razor’s edge’?), and you’ll also have to imagine a few meaningful gestures – hands shaking in the air, the urgency of his voice increasing: this is evidently an important point.

The event was marvellously hosted by Cathy Haworth of Bay Yoga, Berkhamsted, in a great space in Berkhamsted Town Hall or in the yoga studio depending on the size of the groups. I attended four of the five weekend workshops (not including the extra Mysore session and teachers’ adjustment workshop). I was a bit disappointed that other commitments meant I missed the mulah bandha talk and the ‘chai and chat session’ (See Kevin's blog post David Garrigues comes to the provinces.). But the surya namaskar and jumping workshop, a primary series broken down workshop, led primary and the asana kitchen all lived up to expectations (and mine were high). There was enough of an introduction to pranayama to make me want to purchase his Viyu Siddhi but, of course, all three copies (that he began his European tour with only three copies of his most recent publication is perhaps evidence of how refreshingly uncommercial the whole event was) sold out before I knew they were there. The asana kitchen led us to look at a few different poses in depth – triangle, side angle, down dog – these all being taken from requests by workshop attendees. And the best thing was that David truly wanted us to get it. So how did I make my start with chakrasana? With a bank of blocks to throw myself back off of…and when my single tier didn’t work and second tier…and when my second tier didn’t work David looked decidedly despondent before brightening and telling me to keep trying.

There were more opposites… In schools we talk of ‘scaffolding’ learning – moving someone to a point just beyond where they are able to get to on their own – holding them in their learning process.  Of course, David’s adjustments served that purpose. They, too, presenting an opposite – a firm and hearty push in the right direction combined with a sense of safety and care. And the size of the group meant these were relatively plentiful. But another and perhaps more subtle scaffolding was David’s presence. And present he was. There was no cursory sweeping of the gaze across the room. He met and held our eye contact, sought it out, was there with us. Through a paradoxically judgment-free expectation that we would put our all into our practice with him over the weekend (it felt to me a demanding led primary!) yet at the same time holding the space with compassion and huge warmth he modeled how to approach our practice beyond Berkhamsted Town Hall.  The warm toughness isn’t an unfamiliar combination. It’s something I’m fortunate to have experienced in a similar approach to teaching from my own super teacher Charlie Taylor-Rugman. It’s a convincing push to make the practice my own and a demonstration of how to achieve this over a long-term commitment (“you’re all practicing these poses every day, right?” was said on more than one occasion with a smile.) Of course, two people doesn’t a scientific study make, but at some point over the weekend I was led to ponder whether this is what Pattabhi Jois has passed on, along with the system, the practice that David was so eager to share with us this weekend: a spirit…an approach to practicing that becomes an approach to living. This is what, more often than not, eludes me, but attracts me to continue. The ability to hold myself in this practice at that edge between fierce determination and a gentle tenderness is something that was scaffolded for me this weekend. That’s where we were all held for a couple of days. That’s how I came to ask a question in a yoga workshop. That’s how I came to answer Anthony’s suggestion of a guest post. I’m still feeling the fleeting sense of freedom of inhabiting that space somewhere between full-on determination and a softness that saps. A fun space, a fearless space, and a space that has a peculiar way of generating its own energy. To paraphrase again, ‘when two forces balance each other out a space opens up.’ It was a very nice space, that, while it lasted.
Rachel Musson