A fully embodied yoga practice is an ideal laboratory to observe a variety of psychological responses to internal or external conditions.
I was listening recently to Antonio Dimasio, the USC neuroscientist, talking on a podcast about homeostasis, correcting a common misunderstanding that posits it as “balance” when in fact homeostasis is a more “active force regulating life within a range acceptable to ensure survival and forward momentum” (1). Homeostasis then is a constant, a subtle pull, or ongoing tension toward self-correction rather than “rest.”
I have a yoga class sequence I put together some months ago I called “the tension of opposites.” On the level of the body, it’s designed to bring our attention to the reciprocal forces of flexion and extension, and the capacity for both stability and mobility.
We have a left body, we have a right body. We have a front and back body. And we have a whole body. The ideal body plays both sides in a lovely balance of parts that flex so that an opposing part can stretch. These actions allow for the entire range of motion available to our muscles, fascia and bones and our bones’ relationships to other bones, i.e., our joints.
Most of us are, however, a collection of imbalances — a tighter right shoulder or a weaker left hip, and we tend to isolate parts from the whole in our efforts to heal ourselves. Injury and developmental patterns that can put our bones out of balance put demands on our muscles in order to compensate and correct. I want us to tease out imbalance in our felt sense — using our practice to garner a deeper appreciation of the unique qualities of our left compared with our right, our front with our back, and to be more sensitive to letting all sides speak without pushing them to mirror one another.
Yes, we’re always looking for that elusive “balance” in our practice, and I don’t want to suggest an approach that reinforces compensating patterns. I just want us to become more sensitively attuned to the differing requests from our differing bodily quarters, observing how opposites work and play together, or how they resist that dynamic. Moving toward balance is learning to correctly modify and adjust, tending to each side a little differently, allowing ourselves to work asymmetrically.
In the practice of postures, the “tension of opposites” also speaks to our application of effort. I like more often to play along the whole spectrum of effort in a pose, letting the practice become the discovery of my own unique “manageable tension” by finding the minimum, the end range of effort, and then holding the posture somewhere in between those two poles.
But this work can also serve as a kind of embodied metaphor for part of the process of individuation, or self understanding. Recall Patanjali’s dictum:
Sthira-sukham-asanam/The postures of meditation should embody steadiness and ease
Prayatna-saithilyananta-samapattibhyam/This occurs as all effort relaxes and coalescence arises
Tato dvandvanabhighatah/Then one is no longer disturbed by the play of opposites (2)
Can our bodies teach us how to respond with more grace when things go out of balance in our lives? Can we manage through the uncomfortable tensions that inevitably arise without letting instinct yank us back out of fear, or running for comfort in avoidance of necessary confrontation? Can we be with tension long enough to see through to a third way? A sitting with tension that then allows for something more to surface?
Our lives ask us to bear discomfort, disagreement, disease, disappointment. Some of these are minor in the grand scheme of things, some seemingly too much to bear, up near the end point on the spectrum of “bearability.” I try to manage my life in a way that keeps the road ahead clear of too much that is difficult to bear. With meditation I can more finely hone how I react to stressful situations. When I find myself facing disagreement, or a call to a new client, or any situation that demands I relinquish some of that control and step into an unknown, I feel it in my body, and then I acknowledge that I feel it in my body — in my pulse, in my skin, in my breath. I can remind myself of the inherent wisdom of my breath and my learned ability to step back and observe any situation with more clarity.
So these practices or tools can serve us daily. They are tools for living skillfully in our bodies and minds. They can also serve us on a truly foundational level, at the level of our evolving psyches.
“Some degree of tension between consciousness and the unconscious is both unavoidable and necessary. The aim of analysis is therefore not to eliminate the tension but rather to understand the role it plays in the self-regulation of the psyche. Moreover, the assimilation of unconscious contents results in the ego becoming responsible for what was previously unconscious. There is thus no question of anyone ever being completely at peace.” -Frith Luton
- “What is homeostasis? Emeritus Professor Kelvin Rodolfo of the University of Illinois at Chicago’s Department of Earth and Environmental Sciences provides this answer” January 3, 2000. Photo credit: Garry DeLong, Getty Images https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/what-is-homeostasis/
- Banville, John. Feb. 2, 2018. “The Strange Order of Things by Antonio Damasio review — why feelings are the unstoppable force.” The Guardian.
- Hartranft, Chip. 2003. The Yoga-Sutra of Patanjali. Boston. Shambhala.