Posturing for Inner Peace

In the concrete jungles of Manhattan, stress reduction and relaxation can be found in the practice of yoga—according to yoga master Lindsey Clennell and his disciple Claire Conway.

By Claire Conway, Lindsey Clennell, published on July 01, 1994 - last reviewed on June 22, 2006

But we worked on her body posture anyway. As a runner, she needed a lot of space for her heart and lungs and not the compressed rib cage she was creating with her upper back posture. I knew she would realize the benefits of more lung space. Or maybe not; sometimes even knowledgeable people do not connect with the most basic workings of their own body. So I continued to work on the idea that her body posture was something she did, rather than something that happened to her. I gave her extra exercises that would familiarize her with the correct way of holding her upper back and release the tensions that were keeping it rigid. I did not want to push her too hard, because body posture can be heavy emotional stuff, but she was not phased at all.

Tension consumes a lot of energy makes us feel tired and freaked out. It can be an expression of some sort of trauma that you subconsciously carry with you, clenching your spine in a certain way. But it's not fused forever. You can get at it by doing poses that require relaxation, educating the back to surrender to the natural shape of the body, as opposed to the unconscious tension. When the tension is freed, so are the attitudes that created it. But it's a subtle change, not some sort of instant release.

Claire was getting the idea and starting to let go. She surprised me by picking up on the new movements quickly. My gamble of going into the deep end with her looked as though it might work out. I hoped so.

Lindsey opened the door to my rain-soaked body and ever-bulging briefcase this morning. Apparently the work angst that I had left behind the day before had found its way back into my head. Thankfully, he suggested we devote the day to recuperative postures, breathing—pranayama in Sanskrit—and relaxation.

I glance into Lindsey's dining room and notice the chairs have been cleared from the table. I'm feeling a little queasy. Next thing I know, I'm sprawled over the table, with my torso dangling toward the floor. The weight of my legs is keeping me securely anchored to the table; I find this very disheartening at first. But, all in all, for the 10 minutes I was up there, I was completely relaxed and oddly energized.

After reluctantly climbing down from the table, I did some back arches over chairs and footstools, with my stomach in the air. I have to confess, these positions were more nauseating than relaxing.

Finally, he talked me through a relaxation session, while I lay on the floor, with a holster comfortably lodged beneath my back. He told me to inhale, and then exhale slowly, taking twice as long. I was to concentrate only on gravity and the feeling of my skin touching the ground. Just as I felt totally relaxed, I realized I was still taut in some part of my body and relaxed even more. Finally, as I imagined my temples drooping toward the floor, a deep sense of calm enveloped me. I wondered, had I ever truly been relaxed before? Perhaps the sensation I felt after a long run isn't relaxation at all, but exhaustion from beating my body into submission.

Lucky Strikes

I gave Claire an overview of the differing psychological effects of the various postures. Standing postures create emotional stability; forward-bending postures are calming; back bends elevate mood; and inverted postures (shoulder stands and headstands) give more energy and a sense of well-being.

When people start yoga and do a series of different postures, they usually feel much more relaxed after it and less anxious. If they go on to practice the postures and breathing/meditation exercises regularly they will experience profound changes in their stamina, energy level, concentration, and psychological well-being. I suggested that Claire might notice some changes over the next few days. She was open minded, but a little skeptical. Her version of well being was coffee and an aspirin sandwich.

Lindsey did a fast-forward version of his usual two-hour yoga session for me this morning. The postures I'm lucky to strike for 30 seconds he holds for two minutes. And then he escalates to handstands and headstands that require enormous body strength, balance, and flexibility. By sheer concentration he can will his elbows to extend an inch or so past their normal range.

So that's the physical part; what's in it for him mentally? In the 20 years he's been doing yoga, he's become less fragmented, he says. Hold it, 20 years, did he start when he was 20? No, 32. This man is 52. He looks about 45, and his wife, Bobby, looks 37; she' s 51—reason enough to give it a shot.

He says he's better able to concentrate and fend off anxiety and anger since he took it up. Because, he says, to achieve these postures, you have to clear your head of nagging thoughts and learn to direct your attention to isolated areas of your body. So, if he's feeling an edge from jet lag—he's a filmmaker and flies all over the world—or work anxiety, he will whip himself into a back arch or a headstand, whether at home or in a Third World hotel room. And when he senses an impending creative burnout, he doesn't grope for a double espresso—he just breathes deeply to contain his scattered thoughts.

You know what I like about this guy? He's living in my world; he's capable of that strategic elbow required to nab a seat on the morning subway. And he too flinches in self-consciousness when talking about "connecting with the cosmos." These words were written thousands of years ago and translated from an ancient language, but they're all we have, he tells me.

It's easy to be put off by the orange robes and shaved heads of people who claim to be "into" yoga, he confides. But what counts is the discipline. Without it, the rest is affectation.