TOUCH - The Art of Adjusting
Have you ever had a great adjustment? One that leaves you feeling more open, safe, and supported?
Have you ever had an adjustment that does exactly the opposite?
I think we have an opportunity coming out of the pandemic to adjust our touching abilities.
Teacher to student. Student to student. A group of students adjusting one person. Students adjusting themselves. All these are possible, can be helpful, or can be detrimental. I have had two adjustments when taking class recently and they were incredible, given by two extremely competent and compassionate women. In the last couple of years though, we all have had minimal touch in yoga classes and I can say I haven’t missed it all that much. I will first touch on that part of it, then follow up with a tidy little bow on how we can all come out better informed and prepared to give adjustments again.
I remember my first hands-on adjustment, given to me by a respected teacher in the sweaty yoga tradition, we all know which one. The teacher came up and pushed on me, but the adjustment did not go well. We were so sweaty, slick actually, that their hands literally slid over my skin. EWWWWW! Zero help in achieving the adjustment because they couldn’t get traction on my arms. Fast forward 4 years, I am in an Iyengar class, the teacher says grab a partner. I look around, I didn't know anyone; I had just moved to Denver. What ensued was chaos. Everyone started talking and moving and I just stood there, almost dumbfounded wondering which of these people were going to touch me. I didn’t really like that idea in the moment. At times I have had adjustments where the pressure was too much, too little, too timid or too aggressive (like my calves….inside joke…..IYKYK). I usually try to gravitate to the people I know or other teachers. I have even been the recipient of a bad adjustment by a teacher. I won’t go into too much detail here, but hey, it happens.
On a brighter note, I have been adjusted in a very intense and personal way that felt helpful. Like the teacher had X-ray vision, like they saw ME. Not only did they see me, but they listened first. Then we worked together to make sure it was all good, each and every touch was adjusted, modified because we took the time to pay attention. It was a symphony really, all the parts and pieces working together. At one point in class, I had 3 other teachers on me, all pulling and pushing and listening to me and everyone breathing together. It takes really good communication skills and taking the Ego down about 7 notches and seeing your student as a human just like you, not beneath you, or them not knowing as much, but seeing eye to eye, soul to soul, breath to breath.
In 2015, I did the last certification assessment I will most likely do. I had just had a very small abdominal procedure to clear up my Endometriosis, but I decided to do my assessment anyway. Mainly because, in this method, we tout that ANYONE can do the yoga based on the use of the props. So, I flew out to LA, was reprimanded that I did not address my envelopes correctly, and did my test. After my teaching skills demonstration, a student took me aside and said, “ I really appreciated that adjustment, I felt you breathing with me.” At the time I was so relived I was done it did not really compute what she had said to me.
After that experience, I decided in the classes I teach I give one rule when we start touching each other, NO TALKING unless you need to communicate something important. When you are quiet together, you are able to feel and apply more or less pressure by being fully present with your partner. Little did I know I was also teaching what had been missing in the rest of my life — being present with those that I loved. I had been caught in this striving mode. The assessment trap that didn’t allow me to slow down and really see, feel, listen or observe the other aspects of my life.
Now, 2 years into this pandemic with 6 feet apart, masks, virtual classes, in-person classes, all the choices, all the arguing, I am exhausted. Much like everyone else I guess. The people I started adjusting first were my students over 70, the ones who lived alone like me. Those who were seeking community early on. I knew the value of touch right then. To hug again. To have someone adjust me again! Eureka! But now on a broader scale, to adjust or not to adjust? To have students helping each other? I don’t have the answers.
But what I do know is that we need to have much more sensitivity, move slower, and have more compassion for each other, even if you disagree on everything else but yoga. We need to learn to be more of a witness, an observer. To gain a keen eye. To meet someone a couple of times before laying your hands all over them. To give space. To breathe together.
All right, enough rambling.