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Warren is your guide

I was first drawn to Indian culture around age 10 by a love of mythology. Weaned on Greek, Norse & Celtic, I then discovered India and was amazed by the cosmic scale of their world view. This quality is a key ingredient in their active meditation practises, but I wasn’t quite ready for that at 10!

As a teenager in the 1970s, I learnt enormously from the works of Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell, who bridged mythology, culture, psychology & religion. I then took a left-turn into 60s counter-culture and what remained of the the 70s underground scene. Shiva, Om & mandalas featured large as a backdrop to life, but mainly as psychedelic props. However, from Tom Wolfe’s Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test & Timothy Leary, it was a small step to Ram Das’ Be Here Now & Alan Watts inspired writings on Zen Buddhism. But early journeys into meditation failed totally. I’d always been prone to anxiety & overthinking and my whirring mind did not get on well with the passive, thought witnessing style of practise that I came across.

I came across postural yoga in Iffley Village church hall in the late 80s, but only started practise in earnest in the mid 90s to help relieve increasing back & neck pain. It’s usually some form of problem or crisis that brings us to practise. My father’s early death, my mother’s long stays in psychiatric hospital and my own personal problems (all inter-related) provided the backdrop for a more earnest health & wellness-oriented life after I moved to Brighton. I learnt some Chi Gong, Pilates and the Alexander Technique (great for releasing my stress-related dislocating jaw problem). After a couple of years enthusiastic ashtanga vinyassa, I settled into a basic daily therapeutic postural yoga routine that still works to this day.

The next phase of challenging life & death events in the noughties brought me to the active meditation techniques that I am now teaching. I’d come across breathing techniques (pranayama) in postural yoga classes fifteen years previously - taught either as short “cleansing” practises (kapalabhati, nadi shodhana & nauli kriya) or as support for movement & hold (three-part breathing, ujjiya & bhandas in ashtanga vinyassa). So when life became extremely stressfull, I remembered the stabilising power of a breathing practise and started a seated pranayam.

After a year or so of daily pranayama, I learnt the combination of meditation supported by pranayama. This took me far deeper than pranayama by itself. I was - and still am - amazed at the power of unspoken mantra (manasa) & visualisation. I’ve always been a bit geeky and had to investigate source & scholarly material. My previous knowledge of mythology, psychoanalysis and esoteric traditions across the world combined with a philosophy MA has helped to inform my understanding of the layayoga element of the practises.

I am at the stage where my practise and learning has reached a level where I can usefully teach. I have distilled the core practises into a series of courses that capture the essence of these techniques for the contemporary, western practitioner. I teach only the practises that I use (courses 2 & 3 on a daily basis; 4 & 5 occasionally).

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As a footnote, I thought I’d mention this tree, which has been a constant thread throughout my life. It’s part of the team.

I discovered it as a child in the woods near home in Alderley Edge. I visit it every time I return to see old friends and graves. The woods up on The Edge are one of the legendary homes of Merlin. I learnt that as a child and took to imagining his life-force infusing this amazing old oak that stands at the start of a narrow ridgeway path. As an isolated teenager in darker days elsewhere, I took to visualising the trees around me as connected by the roots to Merlin Tree. In this manner, it was still here now, enveloping me with protective power. This was a great source of comfort & strength. Over time, the interconnection expanded to encompass every plant & blade of grass.

With hindsight I realise that this is similar to some of the meditation approaches taught in the Vijñāna Bhairava Tantra. I think that we all do this sort of thing intuitively, often as a support in times of need. We certainly all visualised with ease as children, when it was called play. Perhaps some have lost the art, but it is easily rediscovered to be put to very good use as a layer of meditation.