High Head Blues

You might be surprised to learn that I was not a front row kind of student in my youth, unless forced there by teachers that alphabetized the rows. Oh how I loved those rare educators that employed the double-secret reverse alphabet seating plan!

The front row is more than a physical location. It’s a state of mind. It’s an attitude. It’s a commitment to not whisper to your friends or draw snarky little comics featuring caricatures of your math teacher (who bore an uncanny resemblance to Albert Einstein.)

In this topsy-turvy workaday world you’re either a front row person or you’re not. And awesomely cool people like me and George Clooney are quite obviously back row people.

Aren’t we?

***

If you’ve never been to a Bikram yoga class, then you might be surprised to learn that new students are supposed to practice in the back row while the front row is reserved for more experienced students. There’s a simple reason for this: people in the front row basically act as demonstrators for the people behind them.

I usually choose my spot based on availability and temperature. Once you get to know a studio intimately you know where the hot and cold spots are in the room. In my home studio the front right corner is hottest, followed by the front left corner. The back left and back right corners are closest to the doors and are relatively cooler.

Given my druthers I’d typically opt for middle row left of center as I’m neither a beginner nor a front row personality type and I like the temperature to be high but not scorching.

On Sunday morning I brought a friend to his first class. Unlike most people he loved it instantly. (I say ‘unlike most people’ because most people hate their first classes when they’re in the room but love the feeling afterwards.) Because it was his first class we set up in the back row but during class my teacher complimented one of my postures and said half-jokingly (?) that I should be practicing in the front row.

Should I?

***

Walking into the studio on Tuesday night the front row was wide open. Was it a sign from the yoga gods? I took it as such and set-up in the front row center. Naturally, there were three new people in the back row of the room. My big moment had arrived.

Practicing in the front row - knowing that new students would be following my postures - had a profound impact on my practice that night. I felt a great responsibility to be perfect in my alignment. But more than that, I felt a responsibility to demonstrate a complete practice. I made sure that I entered and exited poses slowly and smoothly. I made sure that I maintained (nearly) perfect driste at all times. I didn’t allow myself to fall out of postures early (I sometimes do in standing head to knee and standing bow) and the one time that I fell out during the first set of standing bow I calmly attempted the pose again. I never grunted or huffed and puffed (not that I ever do). I only took a few sips of water and only at appropriate times.

Surprisingly, all of my efforts actually helped my practice to become even more meditative than usual. It was concentration in action. It was an excellent practice in every regard.

I think I’ve avoided the front row in the past for two contradictory reasons: the fear that I’m not ‘good enough’ for the front row versus the fear that it’s egotistical to declare oneself an advanced student by setting up in the front row. But now I see that the front row can be a valuable tool for deepening one’s practice.

Yikes! Have I now become a front row person?

But more importantly, will George Clooney still hang out with me?

Will we?


“High Head Blues”/The Black Crowes/Amorica