By Erika Tennenbaum
So, there I was sweat poured down my face and onto the floor, forming a large pool. My arms trembled violently. I strained to push my hips towards the ceiling. My heels searched unsuccessfully for contact with the floor . The worst part was, I was only about 3 minutes into my very first yoga class, my first downward facing dog.
As I struggled for what felt like an eternity to maintain this hellish pose, my mind was racing with thoughts of self-doubt and disapproval over my inability to do what looked like an easy posture. I began to wonder, “what in God’s name did I get myself into here? I still have an hour and a half of this!” Just as it all became too much to bear, holding what I would later know as Adho Mukha Savasana (Down Dog), we switched positions and the class started to flow. I can honestly say I do not remember the rest of that 90 minutes class, but that first downward facing dog I will never forget.
Why did I go back?
As intimidated as I was, as wiped out as I felt after that first day, one may wonder why go back? That question can only be answered by other yogis who have experienced the bliss after a great class. One is automatically put into a better mood, as aches and pains gradually ceased to exist. There is a sense of well-being and oneness that you carry with you all day. It was that amazing feeling, something I had never experienced before, that kept me coming back for more, even in the face of my daunting physical struggle .
When I started my yoga practice, I tipped the scales at nearly 300 pounds. I had been living a very sedentary lifestyle for about five years period. Subsequently, I got to the point where I was winded just walking up the stairs at home. When I walked into my first yoga class, I was starting from way behind the 8 ball in the physical world. I watched the other practitioners around me float effortlessly through their postures. Their movements were so smooth and graceful; and there I was…
Struggling through downward facing dog
Collectively, in my first year of practicing, I would spend half the class in savasana. I would lay on the floor while the rest of the class held strong through standing sequences and core challenges. I visited child’s pose more times than I could count. All the while, I continued to struggle through every downward facing dog. I remember the first time I heard an instructor say, “to my beginners, I know that downward facing dog seems difficult but believe it or not you will find rest in this pose eventually!”
Well, let me tell you, I almost fell over when I heard that. I thought this guy is completely off his rocker. There is no way this will ever be a peaceful pose! I immediately took it personally. My ego filled my head with violent exchanges bouncing between hating myself and hating the teacher. Of course, I realize now, after 20 years of practicing, that the teacher was not focusing in on me, that he did not see my struggle and choose to speak to me through the entire class. But single me out is how I perceived it.
Learning give and take withing the body
As my practice grew and changed, I kept coming back to my Adho mukha savasana with an open mind, walking myself through all the steps of how this intensely potent posture works. In time I began to touch the floor with my heels. (Please note even after years of practice your heels may never reach the floor and that is OK)
- As I began to extend my legs, I found myself compensating by shortening the distance between my feet and hands
- Once my hamstrings gave into the initial pose, my back would sway into an arch
- I learned to tuck my pelvis and pull my abdominal muscles inward towards the spine to create a flat back. When I did this, my elbows would bend outward instead of turning inward toward the floor to open up the upper back.
The layers of downward facing dogs seemed endless. It is a matter of physics; where you take, you must give-where you give, you must take. This is the beauty through the layers of all yoga poses!
As my mind and body gave way to the nuances of downward facing dog, I realized there is one constant in the posture: that the pose changes constantly. Everybody’s body is different every single day.
One day, while I was in the middle of an all levels class, the instructor took us into what may have been my 1000th downward facing dog. My body fell into the position without thought. To my delight, my past struggle with the pose had melted away. The instructor began to talk about the posture. To my surprise, that line which initially shook my foundation years ago came up once again. “This pose may feel like hell to the beginners in the class today, but if you keep on practicing, one day you will find rest here.”
On that day, I almost fell over.
But this time with joy, I chuckled to myself. I realized at that moment that I had reached a point where I took my abilities for granted, almost. Within this wonderful revelation, I thought back to my first downward facing dog. I focused on that feeling of struggle. From there, I breathed thanks into my body and mind for bringing me back to my mat time and time again. Despite the pain and discomfort of years before. Now every time I get onto my mat to practice or teach a class, I remind myself and others, especially the beginners, of the blessings we’ve been given to be able to hold, no matter how briefly, our downward facing dogs.