CORPSE POSEEssentially, Corpse Pose (in Sanskrit, it’s “Sav-
asana”) is a form of meditation. It’s the practice
of letting go, of physical undoing and whole-self
observation. The oldest saying in the book is
that it is also the hardest pose, which, for me, is
true: I am so much better at doing than at not-
doing. One of my greatest satisfactions is that
after twenty- five years of practice, I finally love
Savasana.
For the first ten years, I watched the clock and
fidgeted. I’d think, “I wish I had a bolster under
my legs.” “I’m cold.” I would lie there waiting for
samadhi to wash over me like a wave, which of
course never happened. I was constantly indulging
myself in fixing little discomforts.
Then for a while I had three kids under the
age of five, my husband, and my businesses—two
studios and the Wanderlust Festival. I was tired all
the time. I wasn’t dissolving into samadhi during
Corpse Pose, but at least I was lying down.
Through practice, my time in Savasana has
changed radically. Now it isn’t about waiting for
something to be over; it isn’t thinking about all
the crap I have to manage; it isn’t lying on the
floor out of pure exhaustion. It is a real pose that
I’m actually... mastering is the wrong word, but
that I’m having a dialogue and a relationship with.
I started to get a handle on Savasana when I
decided to truly make it a practice of physical
stillness. Now I’ll set myself up, spend a moment
making adjustments, and then that’s it. I stop fid-
geting and fixing and lie still, making no volun-
tary movements. It is hard for me to do nothing,
but what I can do is commit to not moving.
This was immediately effective. As soon as I
got into the practice of making myself stay still,
everything else followed. This isn’t to say that
every time I do Savasana there’s a great merging
with the cosmic soup, but it happens with more
and more regularity.