ON YOGA, HIKING, AND GETTING OFF THE BEATEN PATH CARRIE OWERKO
“OF ALL THE PATHS YOU TAKE IN LIFE, MAKE SURE A FEW OF THEM ARE DIRT.” — JOHN MUIR
Carrie Owerko at Petra, Jordan
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few years ago, I had the opportunity to teach in Amman, Jordan. After the workshop was over, I visited Petra, where a Bedouin guide took me to the top of the mountainous park and into areas often closed to the public. It was mid-November and, after hiking around the ruins, the sun began to set rapidly. We made our way down the ungroomed slopes at the back of the parkland, and it became quite dark. The slopes were steep and slippery, and I was, admittedly, pretty scared. My guide was practically barefoot, and the way his feet conformed to the rocks and debris was unlike anything I had ever seen. He was completely at ease. In total darkness, he took hold of my arm and swiftly and adeptly led me down what seemed like some very treacherous terrain. The next day, my lower legs and feet ached in such a way that every muscle and every track of connective tissue felt as clear and vivid as if I were looking at a highly detailed anatomy book. Though our asana practice takes our body through a wide variety of joint configurations, they are often predictable and repetitive. When hiking in Jordan, the unusual variety of positions and deformations that the bones of my feet, lower legs, hips, and whole body were subjected to as we navigated the rocks, brush, and all manner of natural debris was unique, constantly changing, requiring not only a whole body presence but agility and adaptability. My feet became my eyes. I had to see with my body—and trust its capacity to guide me. Did I mention how sore I was? I live in New York City. Though I grew up hiking and wandering in the mountains of northern New Mexico, I have been a city dweller for more than half of my life. And though I love New York, I miss the wilderness, the wildness, the diversity of the natural terrain. In New York, we have parks. Some offer variations in grade (slopes) and the opportunity to get off the
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beaten path and onto some unmanicured ground. Riverside Park, which stretches along the Hudson River on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, is where I go for a dose of daylight and natural terrain when I am in New York. Fortunately, I travel frequently and that often gives me the opportunity to find natural habitats of variable terrain in which to wander. It feels so important, essential even, to get off the smooth and sterile surfaces and into the rough, the bumpy, the unpredictable. Life is unpredictable. It is full of curveballs and random events and encounters that we hope we can navigate with grace and ease. These wonderful variables, these “obstacles,” are not problems; they are required if we are interested in cultivating resilience and adaptability. These encounters force us to wake up and make new connections within ourselves and develop a fluid mind-state that recognizes the dynamic nature of stability. We learn not to waste vital energy on trying to control all the particularities within our immediate environment and are better able to devote our energy toward developing greater levels awareness and presence.
Yoga Samachar Spring / Summer 2017
