LOVING SCULPTORS OF bodies and hearts, Elysabeth Williamson and Rex Seader have created a book called The Pleasures and Principles of Partner Yoga. Exquisite in its simplicity, the book showcases a modality that is equally simple, yet profoundly challenging on many levels. It takes the practice of yoga - which assists with physical, emotional and spirituality flexibility - to an entirely new realm. Metaphor for partnership in all forms, partner yoga allows the practitioner to experience many aspects of life that naturally occur off the mat. The book is broken down into eleven chapters, highlighting these principles, among them: union, touch, grounding, trust, compassion, surrender, creativity and intimacy.

These two gifted teachers are also life partners, which adds an element to the classes that would not be present otherwise. They find that their personal interactions are the lab in which teaching concepts can be invented and then translated for the student to use. Reciprocally, what they experience in the roles of co-facilitators, they are able to bring back to enrich their relationship. I had the joy of attending a workshop they offered this past weekend; more than twenty-four hours later, I continue to process the experience. I sense that it will take quite awhile longer to fully integrate the lessons learned both on and off the mat. The location was Yoga Center of Haddonfield; which is a soothing oasis in the midst of the Philadelphia suburb of Haddonfield, NJ. The studio, run by Darlene DePasquale, is simple; softly carpeted, with sparse decor. A dancing Shiva blesses one corner, by a mirrored wall, while gracious Kwan Yin stands guard at the window. Skylights that allow in-streaming sunbeams are side by side with paper lanterns.

To Fight or Flee
Having read their book, I took the next logical step and conducted an interview with them to get a basic sense of the modality and the benefits held therein, prior to attending the class. As is the dynamic in all transformational workshops, the training had already begun with the commitment to attend. I knew for certain that particular life-lessons would present themselves and I naively felt I would be able to easily deal with them. Was I ever in for a surprise! It wasn't that issues arose, but that they were triggered so completely simply by just being present in the room. Fear thoughts, that had me questioning everything I wanted to believe, came thundering through like a herd of stampeding cattle, determined to flatten me in the process. I had two choices: to flee in terror - which I nearly did - or to stand and face them. By the end of the workshop, I was glad that I made the second, wiser choice. No hoof marks anywhere on my body.

Elysabeth and Rex created a safe container for all emotions to be expressed by the participants and were at the ready with supportive hugs and tissues. On the first day of the class, approximately 15 were in attendance, representing varying levels of yoga expertise: from two men who had never been on the mat, to veteran instructors and everything in between. I was one of the relative newcomers to yoga, having begun taking classes nearly two years ago. The age range spanned a continuum from 20's to 60's. The second day, the group was smaller, which lent itself to more on-to-one instruction and guidance. In each step along the way, they beautifully modeled the qualities that are outlined in the book and offered throughout the class time

Partner yoga is a good mirror for life and what they offer are life lessons in the form of asanas. Elysabeth indicated that this is why they present the teachings as principle-based. That's where the power of applying it to life really comes in. She said: "We talked yesterday about the difference between how kids learn and how adults learn and how we have this expectation that we should do it perfectly and if we don't, something's wrong with us... versus approaching it in a really open, fun, curious kind of way. This was brought to interactive reality as - one by one, step by step and breath by breath - we willingly engaged in play as we became those small children."

Rex feels that "it shifts the emphasis of doing the posture for posture's sake - just because it needs to look a certain way - to their own experience. We ask them to bring the emphasis to their own experience - what's going on inside them as well as how they're connecting with the person they're working with, usually their intimate partner. Those dynamics that come up are more of what the workshop's about than actually doing forward folding bend."

It was easy to see how readily people's issues can surface during a class. Tears flowed down several cheeks as students were daunted by particular asanas. Not surprisingly, the challenges surrounded their relationships with lovers, partners, friends and family, rather than simply feeling as if they couldn't perform a given posture.

Elysabeth witnesses that "it's the inner experience that is coming up for them. We have these particular stories that we hold in our lives, such as relationships: ‘I'll be hurt in relationship.’ Or ‘It's not safe to trust.’ Or ‘I'm not supported.’ They're pretty much the same belief systems that we hold collectively. We just have different experiences to support them. When we use these postures and skills directly - experience, combined with the element of touch - we find that there's a real container to shift that story and create a new story that's more in alignment with reality."

In my case, I had carried in a 'virtual' suitcase filled to bursting with beliefs about myself alone and in partnership. I had been struggling with moving on into new interactions, following the death of my husband seven years earlier. This workshop presented the perfect opportunity to face my fears head on, with an open heart. My tendency in life is to 'skip steps' to get to the end result. Several times in the class, Rex and Elysabeth cautioned me to stop and take each pose step by step. This necessitated slowing down, which is not something that comes naturally to this yogini.

Learning To Fly
Two exercises in particular call out for acknowledgment. They occurred on the second day of the class. The first involves 'flying' with a partner. Partner one lies on the floor and partner two stands in front of him or her. Partner two, through a precise set of steps, ends up balanced on the upraised feet of partner one, and at some point in the asana, arms are spread out to simulate flying. I entered into the exercise free of fear of injuring myself; rather, I was fearful of either dropping the partner that I was balancing, or landing on the partner who was 'flying' me.

I experienced this exercise with partners of varying body sizes. My initial partner, Cathy, valiantly worked with me, as we attempted mightily to 'get it right'. At that point, Rex interceded and showed me ways to adapt that thought, as he demonstrated "to give you a sense of how it feels before you bring your partner up into the pose." Once completed, he asked me to raise him as well. So easily he floated up, as if he himself were a falcon or soaring eagle.

After working with them, I moved on to work with a third partner, my friend Greg. I thought our height differential would impede the process, since he is 6'2" and I am 5'4". He walked me, step by step once again, through the posture, patiently simplifying it so that my body would automatically have a visceral sense of the experience. As Elysabeth had indicated, sometimes it is far easier to work with a stranger than with someone you know well. Since there is no history, it is unlikely that issues would be triggered. When the time came for me to levitate him, he observed that I seemed to be straining, as he asked if it was related to long term asthmatic breathing or if I was having a challenging time emotionally. I responded that it felt frightening to do this exercise and I explained the difficulty was around a need to safeguard my partners from injury. He sighed and responded: "Remember that this is a partner exercise. You are not in this alone. You are not responsible for anyone but yourself. Besides, there isn't far to fall. I'm not that far off the ground." What a delicious metaphor for recognizing that I am off the hook and that I need not caregive to be in relationship, as has been a long-time pattern.

There was a sense of triumph after that exercise that I carry with me. Afterward, I received a message in the form of a question from the Divine: "How much do you trust? Have I ever allowed you to fall? How much are you willing to receive? I can only give as much as you are open to accepting. Are you open to soaring and surrendering, not just in this exercise, but in daily life? I've brought you flying partners to keep you company on your journey." All of these thoughts were inspired by that one beautifully crafted asana.

Allowing To Die
At the end of the second class, we immersed ourselves in an exercise that may have frightened some, but I embraced it. It was on the process of dying. Wrapped up in blankets, we lay in corpse pose as a witness sat by our side on the floor. It was the task of that friend to essentially be at the bedside and provide a safe presence for their partner's transition. I felt blessed to be in the presence of someone I trusted; my third co-pilot. In fact, when it was over, I half-jokingly offered him an invitation in advance to be with me when it is my time. My initial two reactions to dying were that I wasn't ready to go, because I still had more work to do and literally heard myself in my head plaintively crying "I will miss touch so much," when it truly is my time to die.

Following the workshop, additional revelations have arisen. Carrying the plane metaphor a bit farther, I have never crash landed; it has perhaps been a bumpy ride at times, due to emotional turbulence, but always guided in by the celestial pilot and flight crew.

The teaching styles of Elysabeth and Rex are complimentary and truly balance each other. Each is knowledgeable about technique, combined with the element of truly caring what the participants are feeling. They create a sense of community that is palpable, as a result of shared laughter and tears. They honor the Divine presence within each student and encourage them through their own example, to invoke that energy.

This evening, as I write this article, I am aware of feeling pleasantly sore, having stretched beyond physical and emotional comfort zones. I have learned that once a mind and heart are expanded, there's no returning them to their original size and configuration.

To learn more about the work of these dynamic teachers, and to order a copy of the book, visit their website.

© 2006, Edie Weinstein-Moser

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

Edie Weinstein-Moser is a writer, speaker, interfaith minister, social worker, clown and reiki master. She has learned to live fully in each moment. She can be reached via her website.