Roots & Legs: Building the Foundation for Yoga Sādhana

We're almost two weeks into this year's MENTORSHIP container with an intimate group of 7 yogis and the one thing I always like to work on in the beginning of any new sādhana is the focused development of the root & legs. These parts of us -- the feet, the ankles, the knees, the thighs and the base -- form the foundation for everything that is to come in our practice. Without a firm and stable foundation, the rest of the structure will collapse on top of a shaky base. One must reflect on and consider what is meant by this when we are talking about the "roots & legs" and why this is important for sustainable progression. The purpose of today's essay is to share a few additional thoughts on the subject. For those who are starting out on this path, or for those who have been walking for some time, being aware of these concepts and the framework they create may be helpful for our ongoing development within the context of yoga sādhana.
Before I departed from the yoga community of the United States, one of the things that I noticed (and I'm speaking generally) was that many people seemed quite "ungrounded" in their spiritual work. I observed in others that their turn towards Yoga or meditation was a way to heal or transform through unsatisfying conditions in their lives. I, myself, was one of those people -- I found Yoga because I thought it could fix me. When I started connecting to the breath and my body in a meaningful way, through a routine practice, I became painfully aware of the misalignments in my life that were causing me to be unhappy, or feel unwell. Yoga has the power to help us see into our inner environment and to observe how our behavior patterns are playing out in our lives. Initially, this "seeing" requires a tremendous amount of acceptance and courage, as Yoga practice can expose where we are blind. For some, they might try to grin and bear it and grind their way through the pain, with the hope of a better tomorrow. That's what I did.
For the first couple years I engaged in intense physical sādhana, performing 4-5 hours of effortful yoga asana practice. I suppose this approach was exactly what was necessary for me to burn through some of the karma that I had accumulated from being a hardcore weightlifter for so many years. Looking back, I wonder if I could have done it differently and end up in the same place, but this speculation remains purely hypothetical. What I do know is that eventually, after knocking off some pretty heavy blocks of density, a sensitivity began to arise in me. A new level of noticing began to take place as my receptivity deepened and my perceptivity sharpened. When I started to practice pranayama, for real, I realized where the path was leading me, and began to see a little bit of the why behind the asanas.
One of the things that I think is most apparently missing in what I call the "modern Yoga scene" is the lack of proper progression through the various limbs of the traditional yoga science. I do not believe that this is at the fault of any one, it is merely an observation. I don't think that the transmission of traditional Yoga was ever meant to fit inside the commodity that it has now become. We may be able to scratch the surface of Yoga in a public class setting, but I don't think that this environment is really set up for a deeper dive into what is really possible on the path. For that deeper dive to occur, the practitioner must take it upon themselves to inquire further and, following their inquiry, begin to observe, experiment and apply. An hour or an hour-and-a-half of yoga at a studio where we follow someone else's guidance can show us a lot, but when we start to listen to our own inner guidance and respond to the cues from within, I think that this is where the juice really starts to flow.
Being "ungrounded" in our spiritual work, I think, is the result of listening to others over ourselves. If we haven't tethered ourselves firmly to this Earth (and we're going to talk about the Earth Element today), then there can be a tendency to float above the Earth. What I mean by that is this: if our connection to our embodied experience and the innate wisdom of our own physical body has not been adequately developed, then the subtler dimensions of our experience can take over. This looks like following advice that is counter-intuitive, allowing information from others to take precedence over our own inner knowing, or even letting our emotional state dictate our behavior. What I am describing could be seen as a top-down model. When we're talking about "roots & legs", I am referring not only to these physical geographical coordinates within ourselves, but I am also referring to the symbolic and metaphorical aspects of this concept. This is the "bottom-up" approach. Reflect on this.
When we feel firmly rooted in ourselves, grounded down through our feet, connected to our authentic path and our walk in life, is there not a confidence and a stability that comes with this? Likewise, when we are disconnected from these roots, are we not a little more wobbly or shaky in terms of how we experience life? The image of a tree in a storm comes to mind. With deep and well-settled roots, a tree is capable of withstanding very powerful winds and waters. Even a tree that has been burned by fire, if the root system remains intact, can potentially regrow itself anew. Why would we imagine that we are any different from the Nature out of which we have sprung forth?
If there is one thing that I am always trying to do in my presentation of Yoga, it is to remind the yogi that we are Nature and that all of the deepest spiritual teachings on this path can be found right where we are, just by looking around. The greatest guru is Nature, as is indicated in the story of Dattatreya.
Dattatreya is seen as the legendary and first human guru of Yoga. Since he was the reportedly the first, he had no preceptor; there was no human teacher to guide him into awakening. Rather, his "gurus" were 24, all of which we aspects of Nature. Five of these 24 gurus were the bhūtas, the Elements. His awakening was the result of seeing clearly the Teaching that was self-evident in the Natural world around him, and the integration of these teachings into his direct experience.
Yoga is many things and has been defined many ways over centuries, but a primary theme of Yoga over all this time is the reconnection of the individual with the cosmos. We are living in a Universe that has been created by divine principles and patterns that exist in everything. Whether we call these "principles & patterns" the laws of physics, or label them as something else entirely, they are a Reality that we must contend with. Yoga is meant to help us see that Reality clearly, and to subsequently purify our instruments of perception so that we become directly aware of the Divine Pattern within and all around us.
Bhūta Yoga, then, is the modern framework and lens through we can approach & build a relationship to what I see as the Natural Laws. If Dattatreya woke up without a human guru by observing Nature, this tells us that our awakening is possible if we see who the real teachers are, and seek to learn through direct observation. My work is my attempt to direct each practitioner back to this common-sense approach. A fundamental way that we do this is in our work with the Elements.
The Elements give us something to hold on to as we enter into the vast & mystical universe of Yoga. When we look at the Earth Element, for example, we have to think "what is its form and function, and how does it manifest in my life, directly?" The traditional teaching of the Earth Element reveals that this bhūta resides in the root chakra, muladhara. Nowadays people have come up with very interesting ideas about what the chakras are or what they do, but if we are looking at the tradition itself, very little of these assertions are presented factually in any of the ancient texts. Rather, we are directed to meditate on the Earth Element and its location in the subtle body at the muladhara chakra. I believe that what is implied here is that, through our own inner knowing and our direct experience, we can come to know what the Earth Element is. This goes far beyond concept and words. Alas, here I am attempting to puts words to my own experience with the hope that this may inspire the experimentation and thought processes of others. At the very least, it is helpful to refine my own innerstanding.
When I started to apply these concepts & ideas to my own experimentation, I noticed a few things. The first thing I noticed was that, through a cross-disciplinary and multi-traditional analysis, ancient movement arts all shared an emphasis on the development of the foundation. Qiqong, taichi, martial arts, and yoga all included, in the beginning of training, a variety of standing positions as the basis for what was to come. Although in traditional yoga -- if we are referring to actual textual evidence -- we see almost zero standing positions included in the list of asanas, what we do see is the an emphasis placed on the connection to the downward moving wind, known as apana vayu. Additionally, several of the key postures described in traditional yoga asana seem to require a well-developed lower body. When I say "well-developed", I do not mean physically strong or able to squat a heavy barbell for reps. Rather, traditional seats such as padmasana or siddhasana, or the lesser known or practiced bhagasana (mulabandhasana): access in these postures require not only flexibility, but active mobility. Strength & control in end range of motion. Furthermore, because Yoga asana is indicated as the set-up for the internal & very dynamic practices of kriya and pranayama, which required an understanding of bandha to perform effectively, we might draw a connection here to other preparatory practices that would assist the practitioner in accessing these more advanced technical procedures. One must think on these things when setting out on the path of Yoga asana, lest we confuse the territory with the destination.
What we can say with certainty is that yoga asana -- whether the postures we practice are a modern invention or not -- is designed for one thing: the eventual arrival into seated meditation. However this is not seated meditation in the way of "sitting still and attempting to quiet the mind". Yogic meditation was seen as spiritual science and one requiring an awareness of both the energy channels of the body, and the internal life-winds. These energy channels and life-winds are known as the nadis and vayus. Expanding on this, the practitioner must utilize his or her practice to become acutely aware of the pathways in which energy flows in their body. When the energy is not circulating well, or is pooling in one area, imbalance can arise. The noticing of this is one of the secrets hidden behind the door of practice, as through practice one sharpens their internal perception. This is known in modern speak as "interoception". We can and are able to deepen our awareness of how the body works, simply by focusing our attention on it and becoming more and more aware of how it is behaving.
I am describing here the process of refining our awareness. Essentially, we are bringing the mind back into the body; through this, we are noticing the behavior patterns that are living in the subconscious mind and acting out through the posture and breath. Without bringing attention to these patterns, they act out unconsciously.
Trauma is described as what happens when our nervous system becomes overwhelmed from stimulation and part of the nervous system fragments off from the rest of the system. As they say, trauma isn't what happens TO the body, it is what happens INSIDE of the body. This trauma, if it remains unprocessed -- and the part of us that fragmented never integrates back into the whole -- ends up locked inside of the various tissues of the body. The science of Ayurveda asserts that we have multiple layers of tissues -- known as dhatus -- and each layer has its own intelligence, form and function. Is it possible that trauma is stored in these tissues? Modern science seems to think so. More importantly, I think, is the question -- "well, what do we do about the past that has seemingly locked itself inside of our body?"
If the past remains unprocessed, it has a tendency to repeat itself. If we remain disconnected from the body, then the body tends to act based on previously encoded memories. Our posture -- how we hold our physical body in space -- is really the result of all of our beliefs, subconscious or otherwise. Unless and until we do the work to excavate what is "living" in our tissues, our body tends to act out the script that it has been conditioned into.
Since the modern education system tends to value intellectual performance over embodied intelligence, we are conditioned from a very young age to place our weight in our intellectuality. Our ability to memorize or regurgitate information offers us accolades in the form of good grades or degrees, even eventually landing us jobs which pay good money for our ability to organize information. This digital age we are in and the speed in which information transfers around the globe has done wonders for our advancement as a species, but in many ways has caused humans to digress into walking & talking heads and empty, numb bodies. For many thousands of years humans were dependent on their physical prowess and embodied ability to provide for their families and succeed at life. Some indigenous cultures still live this way. However, nowadays our skill, physically speaking, has been replaced by our monstrous intellect. In a very real way we have become disconnected from the Earth Element. We can see what this is doing to our planet.
I am trying hard to NOT get carried away with my philosophical opinions, but what I am attempting to do is contextualize the situation and point to something that I think is real. I believe that, through our own observation, we might come up with similar conclusions. From there we have a pathway forward; one that is progressive and very practical.
Using this common-sense approach, we come back to the topic of "Roots & Legs". The first few times a practitioner is exposed to work that directly connects them to their feet, legs and the base of the body, one might notice how disconnected from this area of the body they've become. This can be quite humbling. If they continue working on this area, they will begin to see how deep the rabbit hole really goes. Where are our roots? How connected to how feet are we, actually? Are we in control of where we place our foot when we walk? Don't even get me started about shoes.
In the Bhūta Yoga Methodology, we are constantly revisiting the foundation. In my own practice, any time I notice myself getting caught by the tumultuous winds of life, and "losing my footing" so to speak, I return to the Roots. Am I practicing in a way that really, truly grounds me? How do I know? What does it feel like when I practice like this? When I work my legs -- through basic activities such as stance-work, squatting or lunging -- how does this influence my ability to stay, or to sit? And once I've established a stable enough seat for my pranayama and meditation, how are my legs & base still contributing to those activities, even though my legs are apparently "not working"?
If one does this work diligently, they may begin to see that the legs are still working even when they appear to be crossed underneath. The energetic circulation pathways remain open & fluid even though the legs are not moving. This is known by the fact that the legs no longer fall asleep when we sit on them. In fact, I like to say that "we don't sit ON our legs, we sit INTO them." This cue alone is sometimes enough to get something to move for the practitioner.
Although sincere practitioners of yoga know that yoga sādhana is designed to lead them into meditation, still many yogis remain frustrated by the advanced stages of practice. True concentration (and subsequently meditation) arises as a result of harnessing & channeling the energies and life-winds into the central channel, which results in the physiological affect of sense withdrawal. The outward flow of perception internalizes. This is said to be the doorway to actual meditation. One of the definitions of the word Yoga is "to yoke". Without this proper yoking of our energies, the movement of the life-force remains scattered and diluted. If the life-force is scattered, sitting for "meditation" becomes a battle with the mind, as opposed to the absorption of the mind into the bigger energy of life. Because the life-force is closely connected to the Wind Element in the body (hence why prana and breath are connected), we need to stabilize the Earth Element to provide the container in which this Wind Element cannot escape. The most common place that the Wind (and prana) escapes are the organs of perception: the senses and the mind. This is the real work of asana: to strengthen the container. The legs and root are the beginning and foundation of this container.
I think that what has been presented here is sufficient for now. Contemplate on these ideas and perform your own experiment. Your own authentic discovery matters more than anything that you can read. I can only hope that this has inspired a deeper look and a closer connection to what's happening. The rest is up to you.
Grant & BYA
PS: I'll be sharing on this and also offering practices which will drive the point home in an upcoming live practice & workshop titled ROOTS & LEGS. Please sign up through this link. Active BYA members received 50% off and those in the MENTORSHIP container can join for free. For everyone else, it's $20, and I believe will offer a lot for anyone who wants to transform theoretical knowledge into embodied wisdom.



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