Amrita 6: Asana through the ages - Magazine - Page 66
Get up, Stand up
I remember suddenly feeling very
moved as we stood in Tadasana. I
have no idea if anyone else felt the
same but it hit me like a wave, a sense
of connection with myself and all the
others in the room. I am still curious
about why that happened. Was this a
through line from the physical effect
of standing? The even distribution of
weight, the readiness of leg muscles
drawn up, the abdominal lift whilst
shoulders relax down from the ears?
Possibly, though more complex than
radial geometry, it could have been
the activity of standing, getting up,
which ignites the sympathetic nervous system as the organ body starts
communicating as the heart speeds
up. In that case perhaps it was an experience of greater aliveness, anticipation of the becoming more than a
torso supported by two legs.
Also known as Samasthiti, a translation of which is ‘equal standing’, it
may have been a lucky moment of
‘equalness’ in my own body or all of
us as equals standing up for ourselves
together. This also seems to be an
asana that we are able to do more
freely without struggling to see how
others are doing it. We just do it. Apparently, when fish ‘school’ or make
shoals this isn’t learned behaviour.
Research reveals that schooling is ingrained in their genes to help them
survive.
64 AMRITA Issue 6 / Spring 2021
We stood together in class, our breath radiated it’s familiar
pulse. I reflected on what is really going on when we think
about standing. We talk about standing up for ourselves. We
think of standing up for our rights, for each other, for our
beliefs. We think of standing shoulder to shoulder. Armies on
a battlefield, defenders in a wall at a free kick, a picket line.
We think of strength and solidarity. When someone hurts us
or angers us we say that we are not going to stand for it any
more. Standing is obviously central to being part of a community. A key aspect of being human.
I thought about dignified, non-violent protests and, reflecting on that moment now, I am reminded of Maya Angelou’s powerful poem about resilience ‘Still I Rise’..
Just like moon and suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing
high, Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me
broken? Bowed head and
lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like
teardrops, Weakened by
my soulful cries?
