Today I ran into a student (I’ll call him Marcos) in the produce section of Tops Central Chidlom (a supermarket here in Bangkok). I was surprised to see him walking around, conscious and clear. Marcos still has 9 stitches in his head, and had to be woken up every two hours, so he wouldn’t slip into a coma. That’s what you do when you have a concussion. I remember, I had one in a skiing accident many years ago.
While he was filling me in on the experience in the hospital his wife called to make sure he was all right walking around by himself. After all, it was only a day before she had to escort him out of my 2 hour pranayama class and to the hospital, making sure the blood soaked towel wrapped around his head didn’t fall off.
How could a yoga class cause a tall man to pass-out, fall backwards, hit his head on the floor and end up in the hospital with a concussion? We’re not even talking about a hard-core physical session either… it’s a class entirely about BREATHING!
As usually fitness-oriented practioners, delving into pranayama requires a gear-shift- I had to convince these two to come and give it a try. As always, I had to make a standard disclaimer by telling them and the rest of my students that the class wouldn’t be super physically challenging. In fact, from the outside, the whole thing looked very mild.
We started with three-part breath on the back- you know, the way I would’ve started teaching yoga to my 86 year old Dad. Then we proceeded to do a meditation on Vyana- the outward, expanding prana vayu. Basically you stand, inhale as you extend your arms and fingers up and out to the line of the shoulders, arch your back slightly, and hold your breath while channeling thought, intention, and visualized light from your heart out into the cosmos. It feels so good, that this exercise is dubbed the “Happy Breath”. So as we were all standing doing the Happy Breath, I closed my eyes, sent out good vibes into the known universe, and all of a sudden there was a; THUMP!! CRAAAAACK! And a woman’s voice; “Marcos! Honey! OH MY GOD!”
Everyone was quickly up and out of meditation and either walking or running over to his big body lying stiff on the floor. By the time I got to him, his wife had lifted and cradled his head in her arms, a big pool of bright red blood starting to spread across the floor. Marcos slowly opened his unfocused eyes, and looked confused and partially annoyed; why was a group of people hovering over him?
Blood started to flow profusely, making for a graphic and horrifying scene. His wife panicked, not able to dial her mobile phone. All of a sudden, I had no idea what to do. I think I froze. I remember my first years doing backbend in yoga, seeing stars and getting tunnel vision, but I never passed out. I never even saw anyone pass out! What would YOU do in a yoga class if that happens?
They made it to the lobby and a few minutes later Marcos was pushing me to start the class again. Off they went to the hospital, with a bloody towel wrapped around his head.
So then it’s me and the students again, and somehow we have to start where we left off; meditation and pranayama. This was a balancing act. Every time I closed my eyes all I would see was BLOOD. I remembered what Swami Veda Bharati had taught me; when you hold the breath, thoughts in the mind are magnified. Because of the implications on the psyche, it’s better not to hold the breath at all, unless a person’s mind is very sattvic (pure).
Pranayama or otherwise, I was pretty rattled, but somehow I kept my act together for the next hour. I dealt with the situation as calmly as I could, brought it up in discussion for a few minutes, explaining how that might happen to people, and then resumed the class. Inside I was feeling pretty awful though- and of course, not holding my breath.
After class finished, my wife and I went to watch the movie “Sweeny Todd” , which is, a very bloody, violent (and beautifully macabre) movie. With a theme of blood and guilt in my mind, perhaps needless to say, I had some uncomfortable, gory dreams. The experience of that yoga class affected me for 24 hours and left me with some unforgettable lessons:
1. A standing backward bend creates blood pressure changes, which can cause someone to pass out2. watch what your thinking about when and if you hold your breath in pranayama3. figure out how to keep the class from falling apart if an accident happens. Later, Marcos told me that when he “came to” his first thought was that he had fell asleep, and I had woke him up, mad at him because he had fell asleep in MY class. We’re still friends, and there’s no lawsuit. Hopefully you’ll never have to experience this, or if you do, take from my experience somehow? Oh, and do the happy breath only when seated 
