Recently in class, just as I took my last ujjayi breath and wiggled my body into a happy quiet place, the woman next to me started rolling up her mat, and the woman in front of me started shoving her yogitoes into her mat bag, and the woman two rows over sprayed off her block. One by one, four students in the class skipped savasana, packed up and left, shuffling through the room, opening the door, letting in the cold…disturbing the peace.
Throughout the process of a yoga class, many wounds are opened. It’s like removing the bandages on the wounds of life to get some air. We start slow with an integration series, and slowly, piece by piece, we peel away the bandage. Sometimes it sticks to the wound and opening the energy is a little painful. Other times the fresh air feels nice. By the floor series, the wounds are fully exposed. The exposure is good, allowing the rawness inside us to breathe. Now, a doctor wouldn’t undress a wound, clean it, and send you back out onto the streets raw and exposed. A nurse would lovingly redress the wound and provide instruction for promoting further healing on your own. The same is true for a yoga class. Every yoga class ends with a savasana, usually a namaste or closing chant, and a diligent teacher reminds students to drink plenty of fluids and keep smiling. Savasana is the re-dressing of the wound. The sealing of the energetic space to provide protection. A similar procedure is offered in an energetic healing session such as Reiki, Healing Touch, Qigong, or even a simple Swedish Massage. It is a necessary component of the process to offer protection and further the healing.
When you skip savasana in your own practice, you are leaving class as an open channel to receive whatever energies come your way. Imagine it, you spend almost ninety minutes sweating, detoxing, breathing, and working to bring yourself to a pleasurable state of bliss, then you leave early because you have to get to an appointment. As you open the door to leave there’s bound to be one or two yogis in savasana slinging a couple of energetic arrows of disgust for your rudeness your way. Those arrows hit you in the back and they are coated with yogic love, so you don’t notice them right away. But, when you get to your car, suppose there’s a parking ticket on your windshield. It doesn’t really bother you at first, but what you don’t realize is that the meter maid was in a particularly pissy mood that morning, and she was taking out her aggressions on the cars with expired meters. Her anger went into the ticket, and as you picked up the ticket, your wide open energy accepts all that aggression because the filter of savasana pose wasn’t put into place after you left. Driving out of the parking lot, you get flipped the bird from a man in a hurry. His middle finger sent a laser beam of aggression right into your heart. By the time you get to the second stoplight, you’re tapping your own fingers on the steering wheel when the car in front of you didn’t notice the light change right away. By the time you get to your appointment, thirty minutes after your yoga class, most of the calming effects of the practice have been completely erased by the negative forces you have encountered, and you don’t know how to be sweet with the receptionist when she tells you that your appointment needs to be rescheduled.
This example is superficial in nature. However, I have worked with a couple of clients who spoke to me about how their worlds had been shattered in more ways than one since beginning a yoga practice, about how they are realizing the hugeness of the traumas of the world on a whole new level, and they don’t know how to handle it. In each case, the result was major injury or illness that brought the yoga practice to a screeching halt. The client had to develop a whole new approach to yoga, learning the value of yin, the power of Sukha (surrender), and the necessity of savasana, as that was the only pose their body allowed anymore.
It’s true. Yoga opens up the wounds. It changes your life. It makes you face your shit. It’s hard enough to open up your own wounds and face the issues and results of them on and off your own mat without having to deal with the crap of everyone you encounter.
So take savasana.
Allow yourself two minutes (more is better) to redress the wounds, to seal the surface so that you can maintain the blissful state just a little longer each day you practice and not accept other people’s dirt into your rawness. If you absolutely MUST leave class early, skip the hips or the final twist and take savasana early.
Oh, and be kind to those around you, set yourself up in the back of the room, inform the teacher of your intentions to leave early, and get your little butt out the door before their savasana begins. The Emily Post of yoga would thank you. |