Breathe: Kripalu
Self-observation awakens light in this yoga of compassion.
VALERIE REISS
May/June 2004
Though it’s taught in studios throughout the world, Kripalu is one of the few yoga styles with a mother ship: Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health, a converted Jesuit seminary on 350 acres in western Massachusetts. Like Kripalu the center—originally an ascetic ashram and now a retreat with workshops in everything from conscious eating to Ayurvedic healing—Kripalu the yoga has evolved vastly since its creation by Yogi Amrit Desai in the 1960s (in fact, at press time its guardians were fiddling with the vocabulary to delineate its levels).
But in virtually every Kripalu class the theme is the same: compassion (in Sanskrit, that’s kripalu). Nurturing teachers encourage students to listen to, respect, and watch their minds and bodies, generating a vibe that’s welcoming and relaxed—yet that’s also demanding of the parts of us that may want to psychically zone out. “The highest spiritual practice is self-observation without judgment,” said Swami Kripalvananda (also known as Kripalu and as Bapuji), Desai’s guru. “Each time you judge yourself, you break your own heart.”
Rather than adhering to a strict posture menu or class structure to achieve its goal of detached self-love, Kripalu depends upon certain fundamental tenets; all stem from the mantra Breathe, relax, feel, watch, allow, reflecting core notions of classical by-the-Sutras yoga.
You’ll ex-perience this overarching sense of noncompetitive acceptance no matter what level class you’re in; the only thing that varies is the pace. Though most Kripalu studios conduct open classes, others (including the Massachusetts mother ship) offer three distinct levels: gentle, which is tortoise-slow and great for absolute beginners or any yogi in need of TLC; vigorous, which is full of strenuous, long-held standing poses and deep twists but is not sweaty or cardiovascular; and moderate, a Goldilocks balance between the two.
All classes begin with a chant of om and a centering exercise such as alternate-nostril breathing or simple body-scanning (“Notice the sensation in your right arm without trying to change it”). Posture sets are an eclectic amalgam of standing and floor-based asanas. Inversions are part of every session, and safety in these postures in particularly emphasized in Kripalu. Classes nearly always finish with a second om and a few minutes of meditation.
In each asana, teachers urge students to explore, ride, and melt into the “edge” of postures—the line between ease and discomfort. You’ll hear a lot about this edge, as well as the “witness consciousness” it takes to keep an internal eye on it. That is part of what Kripalu calls “meditation in motion,” expanding awareness with conscious movement. The teacher may ask you to consider how your mind interacts with its perceived physical limits: Does it shimmy away? Push too hard? Or surf patiently until things open and shift?
You’ll also be encouraged to do “micro-movements,” the Kripalu name for small adjustments within a pose. For example, in triangle, students may be asked to pull the pelvis forward, and then swing it way back before settling into balance, explains Devarshi, aka Steven Hartman, the center’s director of professional training. “What can you wiggle? What can you play with? What can you relax totally?” he asks students. “It’s a playful way to open prana.”
Though Kripalu yoga may be less physically daunting than some styles, its effects are intense. The philosophy is that a blend of acceptance, attentive breathing, and moving consciously through asanas opens the flow of prana, or life-force energy, potentially releasing past traumas and stuck feelings–anything that blocks your true nature. This can manifest as surges of emotion or, occasionally, spontaneous sobbing. “The light body gets awakened with Kripalu yoga,” says Hartman.
By the end of a class, you feel a swelling sweetness that you’re encouraged to share: “We teach people to be compassionate to themselves through their bodies,” says Hartman, “then to be compassionate to themselves emotionally—then to each other in the room and then out to society.” That has been the thrust of Kripalu yoga since its inception. “Love is the seed, surrender the bud, and service the fruit,” Kripalvananda said. “By making others happy, you make yourself happy.”