EKA PADA RAJAKAPOTASANA I (One Foot King Pigeon Posture)
eka = one
pada = foot
raja = king
kapota = pigeon
The Sanskrit word for “bird” is khaga, literally “moving (ga) through air or space (kha).” While not forgetting members of the avian family like ostriches and penguins, the fact that most birds can fly makes them the perfect messengers for the gods living in the heavenly realms when they want to contact us mere mortals down here on earth. Since they can enter and leave those realms at will, birds know secrets of which humans haven’t a clue. This is especially true for the crow, who holds the three greatest secrets: the secret of immortality, the secret of creation, since she was there to witness it, and the secret of the underworld, where she resided for many years. As a result, the “science of the crow” (vayasa vidya) developed around her and became a popular course of study. Based on her flight patterns and the sound of her cawing, “crow scientists” could determine certain significant omens.
Birds also serve as “mounts” (vahana) for the gods. Sarasvati, the “flowing one,” the goddess of speech and learning (who invented Sanskrit) rides on a peacock, Laksmi, the goddess of wealth, rides an owl, Vishnu, the Preserver, one of the three deities of the Hindu Tirmurti (sort of akin to the Christian Trinity), rides an eagle, and Brahma, the Creator, a second member of the Trimurti (Shiva is the third), rides a wild gander. Like the crow, the gander (hamsa) inspired an elaborate mythology because he could live anywhere in the world without attachment, in the sky, on the water and land. He became a natural symbol of the yogi, the homeless wanderer, free of any worldly connections. The gander’s Sanskrit name conceals a profound secret that, as the Sufis say, is hidden in plain view, the unspoken (ajapa) mantra. Reverse the syllables and we get sa’ham, meaning “that” (sa), the Absolute or Brahman, and “I am” (aham), rendered “I am that”; in other words, the embodied Self, the jivatman, is at one with the great Self, the paramatman or Brahman. From the moment we’re born to the moment we pass away, we’re reminded of our identity with the Absolute with every breath we take: a hissing “sa” sound on the inhale, an aspirate “ha” sound on the exhale. Sit in some quiet place, close your eyes and listen to your breathing. Hear it?
After many long hours of research, I sadly failed to find anything very exciting about the pigeon. Mr Iyengar says the posture is so named because the chest is puffed up like that of a “pouter pigeon” (LoY, 389). I discovered a hand mudra, kapota mudra, demonstrated in The Mudras of India, by Cain and Revital Carroll. The mudra looks a lot like anjali mudra, except the hands are cupped together. One benefit, according to the authors, is that it can be used to “cultivate humbleness and inward reflection,” two qualities our world could use more of right now, except of course at the Nest. It can also be used to “dispel anxiety and coldness” simply by “separating the hands quickly and repeatedly forming the gesture.” I can’t vouch for this personally (but in a nice touch, the mudra is found on page 108).
Now for the posture. It’s possible you may need some kind of buttock support, like a blanket, and
it’s likely you’ll need a strap. We were sternly warned in teacher training not to do this posture without first stretching the outer hips (but that was 40 years ago and times have changed), and of course warming up for the backward extension, which would include preliminary exercises for stretching the chest, armpits, and front groins. This is the first of four rajakapota variations (as indicated by the Roman numeral I) in Light on Yoga. As is typical in this book, the first posture in any series is always the “easiest,” though as we all know, “easy” is a relative value. LoY gives every posture (except shavasana) a “difficulty rating number,” which is on a scale from 1 to 60. In this system, our posture 28, II is 29, III is 30, and IV jumps to 40. Be forewarned though, this book was published in 1966, and the ratings are often a bit on the low end.
If you’re in any way limited in backbends, which I assume many of us are, loop the strap around your left foot and snug it, with the buckle on the sole side. From Downward Dog (adho mukha shvanasana), inhale and bring your right knee just to the outside of your right wrist, cross your lower leg diagonally under your torso, and lay the left leg on the floor with the strap alongside it in easy reach. If your right buttock doesn’t sit comfortably on the floor, put some support below it, like a blanket or foam block. Then check the back leg. Make sure it’s reaching straight back from your pelvis, with the center of the kneecap and the little toe side of the foot squarely on the floor. This imparts a slight inward rotation of the left thigh bone (femur), which in turn protects the lower back.
Adjust the right foreleg according to your ability. If you need a support for the buttock, it’s probably best to position the right heel just in front of the left hip. If your buttock rests comfortably on the floor, you can increase the challenge–not that this pose isn’t challenging enough as it is–by moving the foreleg forward somewhat, heel away from hip.
Now exhale and lay your torso down on your inner right leg. From your lower back ribs, extend your arms as far forward as possible, and from your tail bone, extend the left leg in the opposite direction, as far backward as possible. In doing this, lengthen the sides of your torso and especially your armpits and groins as much as you can. Imagine you’re dividing yourself in half around the waistline. Every now and then lift your torso slightly with an inhale, draw your belly out from the depths of the pelvic bowl. Then with an exhale slowly spool your front torso back down on the thigh, lower belly touching first, then the upper, and finally the ribs. Continue for a minute or two.
When you’re ready to raise your torso, there’s a very specific way to do that. Try NOT to push your torso up using your hands, that usually tends to compress the lower back. Instead, inhale, and try to lift your torso to upright by drawing your tail bone down toward the floor, this will help keep the lower back relatively extended. You might raise up (inhale) and lie down (exhale) a few times to make sure you have the feel of the tail’s action. The lengthening of the coccyx in this way is applicable to every back extension.
When your torso is raised, bend your left knee. Notice if the knee slides out to the left a bit, and if it does, try to bring it back to the right and more in line with the hip. Then firmly take hold of the strap in your left hand, stretch your arm toward the ceiling, and raise the right arm and take hold of the strap in both hands.
Depending on your flexibility, you’ll find yourself at or somewhere in between two extremes. At one end of these two, you can bend your elbows and gently walk your hands along the strap toward the foot. At the other extreme, your arms are nearly straight and your left foot seems about 108 miles away from your hands. In either case, DON’T PULL ON THE STRAP to deepen the posture. The strap is a guide for your hands and a means to keep your foot in place, not the rope in a tug-of-war between your arms and left foot. When the strap is first in both hands, pause briefly and bring your breath into the foreground of your awareness. Allow the inner right groin to deepen into the pelvis, feeling the front groin on the left side lengthening as you draw your pubis toward your navel to SHORTEN the lower belly. This may seem like just the opposite of what you want to do, but it’s not. Also bring your front ribs down and into your torso, so that you’re actually slightly closing down your belly. To see what this ideal looks like, go to Mr. Iyengar’s picture in LoY, plate 539, just as he’s prepping for the posture. Notice the smooth curve of his front torso, as if someone drew a half circle with a compass. Then re-create those two actions you learned in the reclining warm-up: from your lower back ribs, lift through the TOP of the sternum (manubrium) and your elbows, lengthening the armpits, but keeping them deep, and descend through the tail bone into the floor. “Backbend” is something of a misnomer, we’re not “bending back,” we’re lengthening back, relying on the length of the groins and armpits to create the final posture.
As I mentioned, walk your hands LIGHTLY along the strap. Remember, the foot is not the goal; in fact, in some ways it’s best not to have a goal. Yoga asanas are chock full of surprises, and sometimes goals are limiting, channeling your attention in one direction and missing other possibilities.
Every so often we see a picture of a student in what seems like an all-pro back bend. Check the lower back though, and you might notice there a deep arch. This tells us that the extension is concentrated in the lumbar, which isn’t ideal. In every back extension you’re working to create an even distribution of that extension all along the length of the spine, including both the thoracic and cervical spines. In the best of all possible worlds, every asana should create more space in the body-mind, not less. The “full posture” for you is where you can get to comfortably. However, as Mr Krishnamacharya said, Today’s maximum is tomorrow’s minimum.
If you don’t get very far along the strap, it might be best to keep your head fairly neutral. If you do take your head back to look up, remember that the cervical spine should feel like a natural extension of the thoracic spine. Be sure not to simply drop your head back from the base of the skull, that inevitably compresses your neck. Instead take your head back from its “energetic root” between the shoulder blades (it’s important to distinguish between the base of the neck and its root. The former is the seventh cervical vertebra, the latter is an imaginary point between the shoulder blades).
Watch your breath very closely. There’s a strong inclination in these deeper “adult” back extensions (e.g., as opposed to the “babies” like Locust, shalabhasana) to push to extremes (“gotta get that foot”), causing the throat to grip and breath stop. Avoid this as much as possible, breath holding can lead to unpleasant results, including booming headaches.
Some students may be able to take the foot, most others will need to continue to hold the strap. After all this mishegas (a Sanskrit word borrowed from Yiddish meaning “craziness”) you’ve gone through getting to this point, you might as well stay for at least 30 seconds. Release with a gratified exhale, step back to Downward Dog, take a few breaths then kneel down to switch the strap to your right foot, and repeat with the other side for the same length of time. As one of my teachers always said, be thankful you don’t have three sides.