samana vayu: the radiant in-between
In a culture that demands overnight results and hails the meteoric rise, the slow churn of incremental progress can feel more like stagnation. Samana vayu (“equalizing wind”) reminds us the value of churn, and the deep, fiery work of being in process.
the radiant in-between
Though we often describe it as “navel center,” the solar plexus spans the midway between your navel and your respiratory diaphragm. Samana vayu emanates from this in-between, both source and balancing agent for all the body’s pranic currents. Samana Vayu is a sort of middle ground energetically, too, the third of five energetic currents through the body (read more about the first two here). Samana swirls between the downward and upward energetic currents: apana vayu, centered from the bowl of the pelvis, is the grounding, downward-connecting current, offering us stability and steadiness; udana vayu extends a channel upward, connecting to a higher, unifying perspective.
Samana vayu works as an energetic transfer station, circulating all our collected energy and passing it through the digestive fire. And just as super-heated sand becomes glass, the thoughts and energies that emerge from samana vayu’s swirling heat are clarified, so that we are more ready to take aligned action. But as humans, especially in this century, we tend to shy away from in-between, from grey area, from nuanced process. We want to get where we’re going and we want to get there now. (And if possible, we’d like to be distracted in the meantime - are there free movies on this flight?)
embrace the fire
The key, I think, to being more comfortable ‘in process’ is in how we envision this energetic middle. To consider one aspect of our anatomy, we have to consider the whole, to remember the self in its wholeness. For example, if we forget the balancing pull of apana and udana, our downward and upward tethers, we might see the in-between as teetering and uncertain. If we forget the digestive fire, we’ll see the middle as a point of stagnation between actions.
The solar plexus is described in many disciplines (including yoga, traditional Chinese medicine, and qi gong) as the body’s furnace. In the seven chakra system, the solar plexus is the seat of Manipura, known to govern discipline, identity, and personal power. In balance (that is, supporting and supported by the connective and grounding channels), this is also the seat of authenticity, non-attachment, and integrity. (Lately I’m partial to Tias Little’s description of the solar plexus as “the hearth of the body,” which feels, to me, less an inferno and more a place to come home to, supporting and supported by connection). We can imagine this physical and energetic center to also be the center of breath, the place from which we expand and to which we return, for as long as we’re alive.
show up to the swirl
The churn is important, is my point. You can’t skip it, and how you move through it matters. This is true on the yoga mat as much as off. Even in the most dynamic vinyasa, you can’t teleport from downward dog to high crescent lunge (Adho Mukha Svanasana to Anjaneyasana). There’s important work and so much information in the transition between the two. How you move through it matters. Do you throw your leg back with abandon and shove it forward, skidding to a stop between your hands? Does your core engage; does your spine arch; do your palms lift to make room between your heel and the earth? Do you cram three crunches into the space of this one exhale? And once you step forward, is it momentum or intention that lifts your hands toward the sky? It matters because the way you show up in practice is the way you’re practicing to show up in your life. Why not practice showing up to the whole process, beginning middle end and over again ?
Don’t skip the work. Don’t be consumed by it either. Trust that you’re moving through it. Remember the balancing, tethering forces holding the fire in its hearth. Know that what emerges is a clearer, more essential path forward.