On Variations

November 2003
by Linda McGrath

Bikram and Ashtanga are more than just styles of yoga - they are constant sequences. You always do the same poses. In the same order. For the same amount of time. Every time, until you die. (“Where is she going”, you must think, “someone should tell her this is not good marketing”.) Well, here is my point: there are 84,000 yoga poses out there. Why should we limit ourselves to 26 (in Bikram) or 82 (in Ashtanga's Primary Series)? A world of possibility waiting to be discovered and here we are tied down. “Or are you really..?” (little devil cartoon appears by your right ear) “…Couldn't you have your cake and eat it too? Maybe one day, instead of doing rabbit, you could do pigeon… Pigeon gives you this great hip opening; it's more comfy and besides who likes rabbit anyway. The world would certainly not collapse.”

This, my friends, is the “7 month itch”. You may never get it. You may just practice once in a while, and 26 poses are plenty, thank you very much. Or your life is too complicated as it is to have to deal with coming up with something different. Maybe knowing what is coming next takes one uncertainty out of a chaotic world. But if you are more of a free spirit, one day you will come face to face with the question: to vary or not to vary?

I did, about half a year into my practice. I had been doing Bikram almost every day. I was already one of the more flexible people, and of course when you start, you think that's all there is to it, so I pretty much thought I knew everything. I had just tried Ashtanga the day before and in their version of the tree pose, you reach around behind you with the same side hand and clasp the big toe. Not many people can do that, and I wanted to show off, so even though it was Bikram and everybody else had their hand to their chest, I went for the big toe. The instructor was quite rigid (you will find that some are more than others) and shot me down immediately with something like: “You guys, try to respect the series. In Bikram, you don't hold the big toe, bla bla bla…”. I already had someone at work telling me what to do all day even though it was useless and inefficient, and the instructor had just held me in triangle twice as long on the left side than the right, so instead of being respectful and humble about it, I reaffirmed my grip and looked straight into her eyes in the mirror. She kept on rambling about it but I held on tight. I am of course quite ashamed about this today, but at the time, I thought a whole new window of possibility just opened for me. So for a while after that day, I was like a puppy off a leash: whatever didn't suit me was out and every day was exciting and new.

Teaching was what finally changed that for me. Not necessarily because the tables turned, although I must tell you teaching a class where you have several people doing their own thing is like trying to herd cats. But that's not what did it. Much more effective in changing my mind was the respect and understanding I had started to develop for the series. Both Bikram and Ashtanga were designed by people much smarter than you or I. The more you practice them, the more you understand the true brilliance behind everything: the poses, the holds, the sequencing…They have withstood the tests of both time and popularity. They have delivered many benefits, and for some students, even miracles. They are so complex that it is best to look at them as a whole. The more you stick to that whole, observe the correct sequence and timing, the more benefits you are likely to reap. The more you digress, the more risk you take of losing that value and even hurting yourself.

That said, I still believe there are 2 reasons that are valid enough to modify: injury and advanced variation. In both cases, it takes an experienced instructor and some time outside of class to analyze the situation and advise you intelligently. The challenge is to find a pose that still provides as many of the intentions that the original pose carries, in itself as well as within the sequence, yet adds value for your specific need.

If you have an existing injury that can be aggravated by the original pose, you should modify. You should always tell your instructors before class, or better yet do a private class. Different teachers may tell you to do different things. That's OK. See which works best for you. If you see a teacher you haven't taken from before, just tell them before class that you are modifying. It's just a courteous way to acknowledge that they are the teacher and you are not just ignoring their instructions. Once your injury is healed, you should resume the original sequence but practice with increased awareness of the area. There may also be additional outside poses that may help you speed up your recovery, but there's no need to sacrifice a pose of the series. Just do them at the end of class, before you take your final savasana.

Advanced variations should only come into your practice when you have reached a complete dead end in terms of both strength and flexibility with the original pose. They are not just a random pose; they are the next level of the original pose. Most people never have to worry about this. But if for example your spine is so open that you can bring your head to your feet in camel (called ”full camel”), then I think you should explore that. Carefully. Here are the caveats:

  1. Wait for an instructor to invite you to try it. We want you to progress more than anyone else and we can see better than anyone else when someone is ready for it. Don't just go for it because you see another student doing it.
  2. Ask the instructor to show you how to do it and explain what to watch for.
  3. In Bikram, do it only in second set. Do the original pose in first set to warm you up for the intensity.
  4. Don't always do the advanced variation. Yes, you do look very cool, but some days your body will not want to go there. This applies to everybody! Know those days and respect yourself. Know that you are opening a big can of worms. Nobody injures themselves doing the original series. Almost everybody I know who has toyed with the advanced poses has gotten injured at some stage. If you do not approach your practice with humility, your practice will teach you humility.

The moral of the story is that you want any modifications to be well justified and fit into the whole of the sequence. Doing pigeon instead of rabbit, because you don't like rabbit, doesn't make any sense. Pigeon doesn't provide the spinal flexion that acts as a counter-pose to the camel. So if you're dying to do pigeon, you do it at the end of class. Just like if you want to go off-roading, you don't put 70 inch tires on your Ferrari. You rent a jeep. And whatever you are doing, do it within the time space of the original pose. Always observe the flow of the series. The pauses or transitions are sacred. Respect your savasanas or sun salutations and “move” with the class.

There is a great value to doing the same poses every time, until you die. Over time, your practice becomes such a great part of your life. Life circumstances change but those same poses are always there for you, constant and familiar. Every pose becomes a micro cosmos in itself. It's like being married. And just like in a relationship, the day you think you've become bored is the day things really start getting interesting. If every time you get close, you start sniffing around, you'll never experience the real value. It's a great exercise for you to observe your reaction every time you come to that point in any relationship, whether with your partner, or a friend or your practice. Notice if you look for newness and excitement outside, where it is easy and obvious or do you instead hang on and search for the same qualities inside, where they are less obvious, but so much more meaningful.