Yoga at dawn

The collective realm: body acoustics

The alarm sounds six am and I roll out of bed and onto my yoga mat, managing to keep my eyes closed throughout the entire movement. Surely that’s an asana in itself right? Sleepasana maybe?

I move slowly through my warm up postures, but stay a little longer in Balasana (child’s pose). Working my buttocks towards my heels, I breathe deep into my lower belly and start to feel stillness wash over.

Ahhh stillness, my familiar old friend, it’s always a pleasure when you arrive.

I sink deeper into my inner body and enjoy the feeling of expansion in its many forms. With my breath the anchor, I explore the subtle sensations that arise from this feeling of expanding and I begin to dissolve deeper into my mat. I linger here for ten cycles of breath, and am rewarded by a calm, clear, quiet state of mind.

I slowly rise onto all fours and come into a table top position. I begin to move through Bidalasana (cat/cow) and continue the exploration of my physical body.

Good morning hips, you’re feeling quite tight today.

“Crack, crunch, swoosh and pop,” they reply as I begin to move the pelvis, drawing the tailbone back and down towards the mat. I proceed gently through the pose, releasing any accumulated tension from lying flat and stagnant all night.

I’d been at yoga teacher training for almost a week and was experiencing profound transformations. Each time I jumped on the mat, I uncovered new elements to my physical body, explored my emotional resilience and connected deeply to my spiritual self.

My body was the percussion instrument, prana was the non-sonorous conductor, and the subtle vibrations of the breath unlocked the sound.

This particular morning held one of the most powerful revelations – I was becoming aware of the melodies my joints created as they moved through space.

I was an observer, the audience, to these sounds. I listened intuitively and explored the rhythm of my bones as they flowed gracefully through each asana. The acoustics were soft and gentle and a delightful lymphatic release flooded my entire being. Ahhh there it was: prana. Beautiful, life force energy flowed freely towards my nervous system, around my fascia tissue, along my spine and throughout my energy body.

My body was the percussion instrument, prana was the non-sonorous conductor, and the subtle vibrations of the breath unlocked the sound. I was an alive musical sensation.

Moving from Tri Pada Adho Mukha Svanasana (three legged dog) to Eka Pada Rajakapotasana (pigeon), I began to explore deeper, discovering the beat, the pulse of my physical body.

My right leg is in the air, the arms are strong and the knee falls to the left, “crack” goes the hipbone. I move my leg through with a “swoosh”, then “ahhhh”, my shoulders open as I extend the chest forward. Finally, a soft “click” as I lay on the knee, folding my torso over the thigh and onto the mat.

Now please be aware of the onomatopoeia at play. The words “crack”, “click” and “pop” sound painful and unpleasant, but they’re not – It’s just impossible to find the words to describe the sensations of yoga. The English language is far too limited. Perhaps, jump on your yoga mat and begin to move the body, lengthen the spine and shine the sit bones high, and you’ll understand the words I’m trying to convey.

As I flowed through asanas, a musical score in skeletal form, orchestrated throughout my entire being.

I was hearing the rhythm of my own beautiful body. The sound of my breath was guiding me into the present moment and the stillness of my mind was creating space. The kind of space needed to stop, surrender and listen.  A space which allowed me to tune in so finely and decipher anatomically which bone was released and the feelings of that sound.

As I flowed through asanas, a musical score in skeletal form, orchestrated throughout my entire being.

I’m not musically talented or trained: I merely dabbled in piano as a young girl. But one of the many, many benefits I’ve gained from my yoga practice is an acute sense of hearing. This of course, comes from being completely present in the moment. I can determine the sharpness of my knee crack, to the deep, hollow sound of my hipbone click. To the fine, high note of my elbows extending forward, to the gentle way my shoulder rotates.

My skeleton grasps at the chance to express itself musically and as I direct my breath, a harmonious audible notion releases. I discover something new each time I practice and its corresponding note is revealed, accompanied by a sensation, a feeling, a release, more space, more ease and more grace.

Thank you yoga, for reminding me what it feels, and sounds like, to be alive. To be moving, breathing, feeling, being and flowing each day.

Imagine an existence deprived of movement and sound. Imagine living a life without tuning into your own beat, creating and defining your own rhythm.

Being able to express your unique musical offering to the world each day is a true gift and an absolute beautiful way to explore creativity. Sound speaks directly to the spirit and can take on many forms. Whether it’s via instrument, the voice or the body, allow your creative expression to flow through and out into the world.

Even if it’s just you and the yoga mat listening.

Kate Duncan

Kate Duncan

Kate Duncan is the Editor of WellBeing and WILD. She loves surfing, creating raw desserts, flowing through nourishing yoga sequences and spending time with her new pooch, Maribou.

You May Also Like

Wellbeing & Eatwell Cover Image 1001x667 2024 02 14t125429.653

The importance of stillness

Wellbeing & Eatwell Cover Image 1001x667 (93)

Yoga for a flexible mind

Wellbeing & Eatwell Cover Image 1001x667 2023 10 25t100852.360

Healing Through Yoga: How Mindful Movement Eases Grief

Imposter Syndrome

Yoga for imposter syndrome