Do you sometimes feel “stuck” in your practice? Plateaued? As if I am no longer so much “on your case,” giving you new postures, constant input, corrections, or attention?
Rest assured: I see almost everything.
Coming to Mysore class does not mean you constantly need feedback, validation, correction, or a
new posture. Sometimes I observe carefully and intentionally do not intervene. There are many
reasons for this. If something truly needs correction, I will tell you. But often, less input simply
means that what has already been given now needs time to integrate.
This practice needs time to do its work on you.
Like medicine or supplementation, you cannot constantly add, subtract, change, interfere and
expect depth or adaptation. The body, nervous system, breath, perception, and mind need
repetition and continuity. The practice works through a sustained relationship over time.
Some students practice for a while, disappear, then return again. You do not need to explain this
to me — it is visible in the practice itself. I can see where you are, how the body responds, how
the mind approaches challenge, frustration, rhythm, and continuity. So when you return, I will not
necessarily flood you with new information. Often, what is needed first is simply space to return to
rhythm and reintegrate practice into life again.
Many practitioners become frustrated repeating the same sequence. They begin to crave novelty:
new postures, new flows, new teachers, new methods, new spaces. They confuse novelty with
depth and stimulation with progression.
And yes — sometimes people need to go explore that. They move through honeymoon phases
with different teachers, methods, and sequences. But eventually novelty also becomes repetitive.
Every exciting thing runs its course.
Then one is brought back again to the same meeting point: oneself.
Your habits.
Your relationship to discomfort.
Your impatience.
Your need for stimulation.
Your relationship to boredom, repetition, frustration, discipline, challenge, and consistency.
You can change sequence, classroom, teacher, or method endlessly, but eventually you still meet
yourself again.
Depth is built differently.
Long-term practice resembles long-term relationships. After the honeymoon phase, things
become familiar. Repetitive. Ordinary. You begin to see limitations, imperfections, shortcomings —
In the practice, the teacher, the space, and yourself. This is not failure. This is part of the process.
Mysore practice is not built on constant entertainment, novelty, or endless external stimulation. AA
large part of the practice is learning to remain present long enough for something deeper to
reorganize itself within you.
Over time, many practitioners discover that once they can “do” many postures, what sustains
them for life are often the most fundamental aspects of Hatha Yoga: breath, steadiness, simplicity,
precision, depth, vitality, and continuity.
But some people need to walk the long road of chasing novelty before understanding the value of
simplicity and depth.