heat

As autumn makes its presence felt the body also starts to turn within. As a yoga teacher this is a time when the student population starts to wane. This month of April with all the holidays is particularly bad because the breaks add to the rate of loss. After settling into warm and comforting rhythms at home students don’t usually return until the stirring of nature outside- the longer days, the fresh green shoots and the chirping of returned bird-life. The nature of yoga is to bring balance to the inner and outer worlds and in this spirit the yogi aims to maintain a strong inner fire as the outer one recedes to northern climes.

Heat. Sanskrit is one of those dense languages with words that are crystallised concepts viewed from an infinity of facets. The word that translates to heat in simple terms is tapas. It can also figuratively describe the austerity, discipline, inner fire, determination and commitment that is required to persevere on the path of Yoga.

tapas- the inner flame

When applied to an asana class tapas is simply the physical heat generated from your practice. In some schools this heat is applied externally to heat up the room, or is encouraged by breathing practices that heat up the body. In the Iyengar system the heat must be generated from within as the fruit of your practice. In cool times it is easiest to appreciate this heat.

My morning practice requires that heat to begin to loosen my muscles, to  permeate those muscles with awareness. It’s as if I unlock my muscles and by so doing release my mind to wander in the field of my body. I was having such lofty thoughts during my own practice and when I taught class last week I noticed something… My winter classes are more aerobic and I was intrigued to see that same heating happen to the class. It felt like more than people warming up. To a practitioner of a group activity like Tai Chi it might make more sense when I say that it was as if there was a release or expression of a group energy.

On those very cold winters days a morning practice seems to permeate my body with that heat. Like a slow burning coal I carry that warmth throughout the day. I realise that this heat translates to that bubbling happiness at the end of a good practice. Those feelings describe a  further definition of tapas: self-purification. How else could you describe the lightness and clarity? In warmer weather I have never made the association of heat with the expression of my body and the calmness of my mind. Isn’t it interesting how the practice of Yoga seems to have the capacity for endless revelation?

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