Jivamukti - Sex, drugs and backward rolls

Ok, lets get one thing straight. Jivamukti is for nutters. With absolutely no disrespect for David Life or Sharon Gannon, you can just tell that this style was developed by ex-heroin addicts.

Performed at double quick time, with rounds and rounds and rounds and rounds of Vinyasa’s to rave music (yes, that’s right actual happy hardcore trance), I don’t even have time to catch my breath let alone think about what I’m doing as I try to stay in rhythm with the pounding bass. After 30 minutes of nothing but Sun Salutation it feels like my arms are going to fall off, my heart is going to burst out of my chest and all I want to do it lay face first on my mat and die.

It’s intense in the kind of way that appeals to people who are intense and those that need extreme stimulation. It seems that the attraction comes from the specific kind of high you get from inducing a higher state of consciousness, either through drugs or more natural means. In theory, for me – the self confessed adrenaline junky – it should be right up my street…

Although it is officially recognised in the west, this is another one of those slightly controversial styles which doesn’t exist in India, isn’t taught by a Guru and won’t be found in the Vedic texts. It is based on Guruji’s Ashtanga method, but personally I struggle to find a true distinction between traditional Ashtanga/Vinyasa and Jivamukti. According to the pioneers of the practice itself (and I quote) “Jivamukti yoga offers vigorously physical and intellectually stimulating yoga classes. It combines Vinyasa, hands-on adjustments, Pranayama, meditation, Sanskrit chanting, Yogic philosophical teachings and deep relaxation. To keep the practice inspiring, asana sequences are ever-changing. with music playing an integral role in the class. Classes are 60-90 minutes and open to all levels.”

If I’m honest I would expect much of this for most proper classes. Although I like the idea of formally bringing them together I don’t think that it makes Jivamukti unique. The only real differentiating factor I can identify is that it has certain heart attack inducing qualities, bordering on the masochistic, for people who derive pleasure from pain.

My teacher is yelling at me now. He reminds me of Daffy from The Beach, only he has dreadlocks and a long grey beard that could rival any Saddhu, and his Scottish accent is thicker. He’s like an army drill instructor and I can imagine him in ‘Nam. I try to pretend that a) I can’t hear him and b) I don’t understand, but he keeps on shouting. So I get up, I let go, keep going and just go with it. Afterall, this is only 90 minutes of my life and I want to see what the fuss is about and what others get out of it.

A lot it seems. The room begins erupting in moans and groans; noises better reserved for the bedroom. It is rather off putting and slightly disturbing, but appears to be generally accepted and even expected in Jivamukti circles. Whatever happened to Ujyi breathing?

Finally, after what feels like an infinite amount of time, I am laying down in relaxation and am so grateful it’s over I could almost cry. Although I managed to keep up (just), I don’t feel like I had enough time to contemplate my postures properly or even check if I was doing them right – I had no choice but to surrender and simply accept whatever happened. Maybe part of the point is to stop thinking so hard about what you’re doing and just get on with it. But, how can you ever get better if you’re body is moving at the speed of light and merges into one massive motion blur?

Despite my reservations, I do feel pretty good. Through the towering inferno of heat I generated I was able to mould my body into some pretty serious backbends, which felt good because they were so bad. I am pulsating with the heat now, so much so I can feel my spine glowing white hot. That’s never happened before and I wonder if it could be the beginnings of Kundalini Shaki rising through Sushumna nadi. Either that or I actually have caused myself serious injury.

To conclude, this practice is not for the faint hearted. It is hardcore. And, if you’ve never done yoga before you would be completely and utterly out of your depth or dead. But it has taught me that sometimes you don’t have to get all hung up on getting things perfect and like so many things in life, you get out what you put in. There is a lot to be said from surrendering to the moment and allowing yourself to just be.