Just the name Bakasana makes most yogis’ palms sweat. You wonder if your body received the correct instruction manual when you observe those students in class hovering like feathered superheroes. The truth is that crow position is a concoction of mental tenacity, physical power, holistic health and the sporadic belly flop. You only have to be bold enough to attempt; you do not have to be a gymnast.
Warm up in a round of planks, cat/cow, or with child’s posture. The wrists require particular kind of TLC. Circle them, shake them out, gently prod them into awareness. Hands land on the mat broad and consistent when it is go-time. Knees point upward toward upper arms. The body slinks as though you were bent over a secret.
It’s time for the lean. The heart thumper is this one. Pitching forward seems wrong until it’s right unexpectedly. One of the toes glides around. The other drifts. Both feet could momentarily stray from the carpet before the brain realizes what hit it. Thud, laugh. Welcome to the club; every crow posture practitioner has a story or two about graceless tumbles.
A good course helps to clarify the perplexing enigma. Drills to wake the core; grip strengtheners; shoulder taps; even, yes, hip openers. Students crack smart, lopsidedly proud selling half-moons for half-crows. There is a personal victory lap within the first half-second off the floor.
The worse is that crow posture is a head trick. Your cranium hears a nope, not today voice. You attempt anyhow. Every lift, regardless of vibration, creates a glimmer of hope. There is no requirement to exactly strike the balance. Every time, grit rules over elegance.
The posture eventually starts to reflect more patience than arm power. You nearly by mistake gain stronger. Perhaps life off the mat gets lighter as well—confidence radiating forth. After all, what is preventing you elsewhere if you can balance your legs on your arms? Fly, wobble, repeat. The crows outside most likely have nerve envy.