Just the name *Bakasana* might cause your palms to moisten. Seeing others flutter across the mat like feathery acrobats makes one wonder if your body ever received the correct blueprint. The truth is, though, crow position is not limited to gymnasts. It’s half grit, part muscle, and a nice helping hand landing on your face and laughing about it. Continue reading!
You begin simple with plank grips, cat-cow stretches, child’s pose. Your wrists, those unsung warriors, demand more affection; roll them out, shake them, and start them to communicate. When ready, hands open out firmly on the mat. Knees rise to reach upper arms. You fold as though you were divulging a secret to the earth.
The lean then comes first. It seems absolutely wrong—until it doesn’t suddenly. One toe raises, maybe the other, you tilt forward heart racing. Before your brain even notes it, your body catches air. Thud comes next. Flooring. Comedy. Welcome to the beginning ceremony of every crow posture adventurer.
The finest classes gradually break everything down—core activators, grip work, shoulder strength, even hip openers to make the balance more accessible. People clap over half-lifts, half-wobbles, half-crows. That half-second of time on air? That marks your inner parade float moment.
The degree to which crow posture is cerebral amazes me most. You try anyhow; your brain yells “nope!” Every lift and every micro-flight becomes a small revolt against uncertainty. What counts is turning up and trying again; perfect balance is not important.
Something moves finally. The posture starts to reflect more of patience than of force. And somewhere among all that tumbling and flying you unintentionally grow stronger. more reasonably balanced. Perhaps even off the mat, things seem a little less heavy. What cannot you do if you can bring your knees under your arms and hover like that?
Fly, slink, repeat. Even the local crows could be somewhat envious.