Sthirasukhamaasanam, the Magic of the Breath

Sthirasukhamaasanam - II.46, Yoga Sutra

Aasana (seat / posture) is that which is replete with well-being and stability. 

This statement from Patanjali's Yoga Sutra demonstrated itself recently and allowed me a 'profound' experience in a 'mundane' context. The experience yet again removed one of these divisions that we impose on our understanding for convenience - that of phenomena being either profound or mundane.  The profound is to be found in the mundane, and the mundane, in the profound. 

 My daughter and I were traveling in a suburban bus and it was a 2 and 1/2 hour ride. And what a ride it was!  We didn't get seats and the only available were behind the driver right up in the front.  This was one of those Volvo buses where the driver's space is a compartment by itself and the seat behind the driver is almost on top of him. As you may be able to gauge from the picture, it is an extremely precarious position - or at least it surely felt like it to me! With an infant to carry, even more so. You are looking down on a zooming road, vehicles hurtling at you (in your face) at godforsaken speeds, perched on a seat which doesn't want you. The dubious comfort of holding onto something stable (although what is stable about a stampeding huge contraption on the ECR is beyond me) is denied you because both your hands are somehow tied up with securing your child to yourself.  She needs to sleep; this is necessary if you want to ensure that the rest of the day passes in comfort for her and you and other poor, unsuspecting souls around.  And your child particularly needs a good amount of comfort to fall asleep and stay in sleepyland for a while.  I thought kids came possessing the secret knowledge to dozing off in any awkward, bizarre position; this one missed those lessons.  

We have here a situation worthy of Adisesha, the thousand-headed snake holding the Lord as he rests. The story goes that sage Patanjali (who gave us the Yoga sutra) is the incarnation of Adisesha.  While discussing this sutra, sthirasukhamaasanam, one of my teachers, an ardent fan of Patanjali, asked me to consider: "Who is the enemy of the snake? The eagle.  And who is the eagle hovering around Vishnu? Garuda.  So Adisesha had to feel and be sthiram (stable) and sukham (comfortable) while Garuda is around."  He is holding the Lord; he doesn't want to be shifting around to get rid of pins and needles.  He also does not want to make one wrong move, lest the eagle swoops.  Absolute stillness under fire.  One's aasanam to be called thus, has got to be sthiram and sukham not simply in favourable conditions; it's got to be so in the most seemingly 'unfavourable' situations. 

I struggled around awkwardly for a while, adjusting bags, trying to hold onto something, shifting my daughter in my arms to get her comfortable, with her protesting about the movement.  Then the bus lurched. Almost falling, I steadied myself and happened to look up at the road.  Two things happened simultaneously at that moment.  I saw the whizzing scenery in front of me and felt the thrill, the adrenaline rush of danger, and also caught sight of a woman in the driver's rear view mirror.  She was holding a baby, and I said, "Hey, that's a yoga teacher I know!"  The world shifted on its axis, and I exhaled slowly, and long, feeling it in my throat (as how one does while doing aasana practice).*  Then, an inhale. Another long exhale.  A few more such breaths.  With that, my body's intelligence took over.  Without thought, just like that, my body changed my position, I adjusted my legs so that they don't hang, held my daughter securely allowing her to merge more into my space, turned slightly and leaned against the window, all in a graceful flash of a moment (at least, I felt graceful).  

See picture alongside, for the changed position, not to see a graceful curve, or lack of it thereof.  Incidentally, this position also had more butt-space, the comfort of which was infinite.  We seldom are conscious and thankful of it when we usually sit on comfortable, full-butt spaces, are we? I think Thich Nath Hanh called it, to be aware of the non-tooth ache feeling.  

Now with every breath, the space of "aasanam" was welcoming me into it and enfolding me more and more.  The bus twisted and tottered and teetered, the breath held the world steady.  My heart now rat-a-tatted in a peaceful rhythm, and my daughter sighed as she burrowed deeper into sleep.  I was at the same time, quite still all over, and also intensely alive and aware to the scenes and smells streaking past, in slow motion.  I became very aware of the people around, and started judging correctly how the bus was going to move next by looking at the driver's subtle movements (his hands, where he looked, in which direction and how his body inclined as he drove etc).  My  entire being simply, constantly re-adjusted itself to the changes such that it can allow my daughter to be comfortable.  So the body actually felt like a bean bag, completely giving in and squished and relaxed to accommodate the sleeping child and yet alert (even joyous) to the vagaries of the bus and the road, maintaining stillness. The breath kept working it's magic.   

Eventually, my daughter woke up, and we both thoroughly enjoyed the sights and sounds offered to us, ate some idlis and got off at our stop happily.  

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* The shift that happened in that split second in the recognition of the yoga teacher is worthy of an independent inquiry and is not within the scope of this piece