Savasana is the time when we acknowledge the impermanence of our yoga practice. It is the transition between the end of the practice and the re-emergence into our worldly life.
In Savasana we lay ourselves out like a corpse signifying the death of the practice. We keep the mind steady and the body still. We practice non-attachment. Non-attachment to our asana practice, non-attachment to our thoughts. We practice non-attachment to what has just happened and what is about to happen. We are still and centered and alert in this present moment. We let everything go, retaining only the breath.
The death of the practice.
We are not in mourning at this death. This death is energized with the power of our practice, the movements of the body, the intention of the breath. As we spread the mind and body onto the floor, that intention rises. It hums, it vibrates, the energy of that union with our higher selves.
And, like the corpse of an animal feeds the earth it lays on, in our false death we feed the earth with our energy.
When we send our intention outwards our Savasana becomes a powerful giver of life. It is, at one level, an important resting pose after a challenging practice, but on another level it is a powerful way to share the energy we've created within the room and beyond.
The subtle power of Savasana comes from the recognition that, like everything in existence, our power will fade, our bodies will pass away into the ground, we will receive energy, achieve goals, climb to the top. We will fall along the path, we will sometimes not get what we want, we will fail.
There is a continuous sharing of energy that flows through us all and through the universe. We are always receiving energy or giving energy.
In Savasana, we honor the recognition that there will be a time for us to shine, but there will also be a time for us to stand back, step down. When this time comes we give our strength and energy to others freely and openly. It is their turn to play, to acheive. It is our turn to wait in stillness.
My Savasana practice has taken on this significance. When I lie in Savasana I relax and gently fill the room with my energy, sending it to others in the room and in my life that may have use for it now. Then I begin again, fresh, with the acknowledgement of Namaste.
As I embrace the "death" that is crucial to giving life, at least symbolically/energetically in my yoga practice, I am reminded of the wise teaching of many who encourage us to live as though each moment could be our last.
Wasn't it Robin Williams who said in Dead Poets Society "we are food for worms".
And Carlos Castenada who wrote, "Let
each of your acts be your last battle on earth. Only under those conditions
will your acts have their rightful power."
When we see the moments of our life through that lens we understand the precious precarious power in each drop of life. We don't fear death. We know all things pass away. It is all part of the cycle, giving life to the next and the next and the next.
I believe Leslie Kaminoff says it best:
“Every
pose that you master you’re going to lose. Except one: Savasana.”
