On New Year's Day I participated in a yoga session involving 108 sun salutations. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Two and a half hours later, with sore shoulders and wrists, I did feel I had accomplished a feat to usher in the year. The number 108 (4 x 27) is apparently very important in Hinduism, Tibetan Buddhism, and Japanese Buddhism. The fact that this New Year's challenge was constructed around a number, a mathematical proposition, felt like some homage to my father.
I had ample opportunity to contemplate the parts of the sun salutation that I am less proficient at, or comfortable with, including the hop to the front of the mat. I have always found the hop (from downward dog to standing forward bend) to be awkward. My feet splay outward so they have a tendency to hit my hands instead of landing neatly between them. I worked on different approaches to this during my 108 practice opportunities. I began to recognize the value in putting your weight well forward onto your hands in advance and kicking a bit with the heels. I started to think of kangaroos.
The night before, I was pondering the advisability of selecting a different totem animal each year. Perhaps the kangaroo should be my animal for 2011--a mama kangaroo who makes giant leaps while carrying her baby in a pouch, with big feet to stay grounded and strong legs to propel her into the air. I have been brainwashed by acting workshops and Philip Pullman books into believing that I need to identify a single animal that best represents my essence. I find this limiting. Why can't I be one animal one year, and another the next? One animal in work, another in play? Since I identify with sea creatures, can I never be a wolf?
For 2011, the kangaroo it is, but for 2012, the field is open.
