For the past three days, I’ve had a very literal pain in my neck of mysterious origins. I’m not prone to random musculoskeletal pains, so I’ve been cranky about it, as well as contrite about all of the times that I’ve discounted Mr. P’s bodily creaks and twinges. I remember how he used to complain about upper-back pain on a near-daily basis for three months until I told him, “I don’t believe that your pain can be that bad, because anybody else with health insurance as good as yours would have been to see a doctor rather than endure the corporeal torment that you profess to be experiencing, my love.”

Mr. P now sees a chiropractor who has figured out a way to bill the insurance company for 30-minute massages, so he’s all set. “You should go to my chiropractor,” he says (which probably won’t happen because the one time that I went to get my back adjusted, I passed out on the floor like a sack of potatoes, stunning some poor Newbury Street chiropractor who probably thought he severed my brain stem.)

It hurts on the right side of my neck when I turn my head fully to the left, and it hurts on the right side of my neck when I turn my head fully to the right. As I sit at a computer all day long and really have no need to twist my neck to and fro, the pain mainly rears:

1- When I’m sleeping. Some nights, I slumber like a rock. Other night, I toss, turn, and wake up on my stomach with my arms and legs splayed like a weather vane.

2-When I drive. Since I compulsively check my blind spot, I am now experiencing searing neck pain every time I turn my head. Way to add injury to insult when I discover some loutish Jeep lurking in my rear quarter.

3-When I do yoga. Could this be how I injured myself in the first place? Ah, the irony of practicing these ancient gymnastics in a modern environment. I cannot stop the strive. I insist on deepening the spinal twist, on intensifying the backbend. I have but precious few minutes a week to practice yoga, and I make them count… until they don’t.

Rock-star yoga teachers frequently go on tour; they hit all of the popular retreats, spas, and studios, bringing their personal strain of yoga (and their DVDs, books, and other branded merchandise) to the masses. I have never experienced real-time yoga with a bonafide celebrity teacher (although once I glimpsed Baron Baptiste mingling in his Cambridge studio surrounded by a sweaty flock of disciples who had just labored under his tutelage) because it’s so rare that teachers of this calibre actually make it into the city of Boston — usually they stop at the Kripalu Center in Western Massachusetts, and while a weekend of breath, bandhas, and beyond with Rodney Yee sounds tempting, I’d be too busy stressing out over the $500 tuition/accommodation fee to think about anything else.

Somerville Arts at the Armory

But on Monday, Boston (or rather Somerville, but close enough) was blessed by a visit from Shiva Rea, one of the most sought-after yoga teachers with near-universal appeal — she satisfies the younger yoginis who crave nonstop tripod headstands as well as the more mature practitioners who prefer to slowly sway their hips back and forth. Shiva Rea is also my absolute favorite yoga instructor with whom I faithfully practice at least 2-3 times per week — on DVD, of course. Rea’s multi-city “Temple of Rasa Yoga Experience” tour was indeed pricey –$55 for each of the two-hour long sessions, and then $25 for the 90-minute mat-less trance dance at night. I opted to take both of the two-hour long sessions, wincing that I was spending about two-month’s worth of my yoga budget in one day. But… it’s much better to waste money on an EXPERIENCE than a useless material good. (My consolation was that I didn’t have to take the day off of work or call out “sick.” Since my workplace gave us the choice of taking off Columbus Day or Veteran’s Day, I was one of the 10% who choose Veteran’s Day, and then I simply swapped Monday for Thursday.)

Monday morning was dismal and rainy as I made my way to Somerville’s Center for Arts, an armory recently converted into a non-profit community space. I joined a steady stream of mat-toting women in the registration line, stashed my stuff on the balcony, and then claimed a spot on the expansive floor in front of a flower-adorned stage. The floor slowly filled up with mostly women, mostly wearing Lululemon (Lululemmings, as I once heard them called), mostly appearing to be yoga teachers or teachers-in-training. I chatted lightly with the rare guy who was sitting to my left, liking that, relative to the rest of the crowd, he also seemed to be a yoga novice. Together, we counted how many of our present and past yoga teachers we saw (him 3, me 3).

Shiva came out on stage late; the drummer started a slow but enlivening beat and we began our movement. Shiva Rea is all about movement, uninhabited and free-form, doing whatever feels natural in the moment. I usually skip these parts on DVD, because I feel sort of silly frolicking around the study, but it felt pretty good to shake out my body on my mat in a crowded room. I was surprised by how many of Shiva’s “flow” sequences I recognized from her DVDs, and when we started the Agni Namaskar, which is centered around 108 push-ups, I felt pretty comfortable. Hell, it was actually much easier to complete the 9 rounds of 12 push-ups in the armory than it was in my living room. In between each round, we did some standing poses and arm balances. All in all, it was a very rigorous practice, and true to Shiva’s word, everyone collapsed pretty happily into Savasana (also true to her word, the session ran late, although it did not feel like 2 1/2 hours of yoga!) After we emerged from Savasana she lead a series of chants. I’m not a huge fan of chanting, although it does satisfy some primitive proclivity for the primal

Despite the fact I watch her DVDs religiously, I would not have been able to pick Shiva Rea out on a street. Not to sound mean, but she looked older in person, probably because her skin is beginning to succumb to the ravages of Californian sunshine. Her body was enviably toned and tiny (much tinier than her videos, incidentally). Her blond hair looked bleached rather than natural. All in all, she looked pretty damn good, and she sounded good, too., her marvelous voice perfectly blending serenity, power, and confidence.

Shiva Rea

The morning session over, I milled around the armory, sampling some free tea and inspecting the yogic wares of the vendors — clothing, Indian jewelry and statues, incense, etc. I was hesitant to go outside but amazingly the rain had stopped and the sun even peeked out from behind dark clouds. I walked to David Square, sat in a cafe and studied French, ran some errands, and then headed back to the armory with plenty of time for the afternoon session at 4pm.

I got a better spot at the 4pm session because I had moved my mat front and center right after the morning session. I was blessed with another conversant neighbor, a very mellow girl in her early 20s who is just finished her teacher certification in hatha yoga and who studied in France for a summer. “Parles-tu francais?” I asked slyly. “No,” she said. “I actually studied Sanskrit.”

The 4pm session featured a sitar player in addition to the drums (it’s amazing that these musicians can continuously play for hours on end). The afternoon practice focused on backbending and “heart-opening,” and was less vigorous than the morning… although it did not lack in challenges! Again, being well-versed in Shiva’s DVDs prepared me well for this radiant heart flow, and while I normally find this particular sequence too boring to do at home, on Monday I never wanted it to end. Every pose was heavenly; in downward dog, we’d peddle our feet to own own inspiration, in locust we’d move our arms and legs like abstract swimming, and then we’d get on the floor and roll to the right and then the left… and all this movement was so creative, dynamic, yet strangely restorative, without a twinge of self-consciousness, and without once thinking “I paid $55 to roll on a floor with 150 strangers for 2 hours.”

It was absolutely worth it, by the way, because I will now watch Shiva’s DVDs with absolute appreciation and renewed understanding for her practices. Plus, a moment burned in my memory: during the 4pm session, Shiva Rea gave me an assist! (An assist is hands-on help from the teacher or assistant to deepen or enhance a pose — a little different than an adjustment, which corrects the pose). We were in a Vasisthasana (side plank) variation (one leg in plank, the other leg bent in front) and we were bringing our free hands into the air with a tiny backbend when I felt a hand on my wrist gently pulling my arm longer and higher than it would have normally gone, and I heard Shiva’s voice behind my head as she spoke in the wireless mic headset, something about liberating or enlivening or empowering or devoting or something like that.