Last week in yoga class at the local hot yoga studio, I finally achieved it: Tripod Headstead. Tripod fucking headstand.
It was glorious. There I was, sweating bullets amid 10 other mostly women, emerging from triangle pose and going into wide-leg forward fold. “You can stay here if you like,” my favorite teacher said. “Or, if you’re playing around with tripod headstand, you can come into it.”
This is standard yoga teacher patter, but I knew she was directing this last bit at me. For the past 3 classes, she had assisted me into tripod headstand, standing behind me and acting as a good-natured wall as my legs rise into the air and lightly batter her torso. Only, this time she didn’t come to assist me. I knew she was cutting me loose — it was time to sink or swim or crash onto the floor.
I placed my palms on the floor in front of my shoulders and scooted my knees onto my elbows. Just getting into this basic tripod balance took me weeks, and now it was effortless. Slowly I straightened my legs. My whole body was suddenly afflicted by random shakes — first my legs shook, then my hips, then my arms, then my core. It travelled to the weak spots, threatening to upend me at any second.
“If you’re going for tripod, make sure you keep your hips stacked!” the teacher’s voice cut through my physical reverie. I heaved my hips straight — my pear-shaped, un-yogic hips — and the shakes consolidated into full-body oscillation.
“Send your strength through your legs!” Another instructional missive seeped into my consciousness, and I girded my legs taunt, which momentarily stopped the shakes. My body was totally inverted, with the crown of my head and my sweaty palms the only things touching the ground.
Stability achieved, suddenly I felt totally at ease. I did not fear falling, nor failing. I felt as relaxed and nature as if I were standing upright. My legs swayed gently above me, mere physical appendages to an inner strength. I perceived the rest of the class was coming out of their forward folds and continuing with the sequence, so I toppled my hips and allowed my feet to drop to the ground. I fell into Child’s Pose, relishing the energy pulsing through my body, when I felt a hand on my lower back, gently massaging the sweat-clad flesh.
“Awesome!” my teacher’s voice quietly said. The first time ever that a child’s pose is followed by a high-5.
