Yogamusings

A Magic Net

2010-11-16T19:55:00.000-08:00

Whenever life gets intense, or ‘heavy’, I ask myself, “Why have I stopped looking for the magic in things, in life, instead of always considering what I see to be the only true thing.”

This maya, this illusion that we live in is indeed real. As real as the reflection in a mirror. The tangible structural thing we can hold onto is the object in the mirror, not the reflection. But the reflection is a thing, in and of itself.

So this tells me that the world around me that I perceive, filtered through my own perceptions, is simply a reflection of what I can recognize. Therefore, all that I deem true must somehow fit within the realm of my own experience. One that I’ve had already or have had modeled for me by someone else who I have taken the time and consideration to consider.

So everyone has his or her own filter, and his or her own ‘reality’ of the mirror, aka - reflection. This is what the Hindu philosophy beautifully describes as Indra’s net. A net as big as the universe, upon which at each intersection is a faceted jewel, reflecting in all directions.

This is the lila - a Sanskrit word for the dance of our existential understanding. We can only recognize it though the apparatus of our physical bodies. Which includes the mind, and it seems that the logical, left brain rules our Western world, our way of thinking and therefore our perceptions of what is real.

Is what I know to be real something I can feel, or is it something I can re-create through experimentation? This is the schism it seems in our modern world, and the question that we seek to solve through living in this world and also feeling our way through it. We should consider if the feeling vs. observation crux is mutually exclusive. I don’t think it is. Like two sides of the same coin, the coin exists as one thing and the existence of the sides simply gives us more perspectives upon which to appreciate the coin.

Why do we forget that we perceive the world through the density of our physical selves? I suppose it is convenient to believe that our thoughts are made of such less-dense material that it does not come from that matter which is us. But they do. Thoughts and ideas are not some ethereal wisps of nothingness. They hold vibration, and a place in the time/space continuum. Many things much more complex, do not. And they exist, are real. In the whole scheme of things, thoughts are likely pretty dense affairs.

It is this misunderstanding that thoughts are so sublime, that causes us to forget that thoughts, with their vibrations, do have some effect on our physical selves. If we understand that our thoughts are less ethereal and our bodies are less solid, perhaps we can feel more comfortable in this existential dance. Maybe we can begin to feel the music instead of needing to understand it before we can surrender to the bob and sway of the beat and rhythm.

There is something sweet in the surrender to a feeling. Sometimes it is a bit scary. Sometimes it is euphoric. Sometimes, entirely whimsical. But always, always, there is that element of magic, which is beyond testing and requires a suspension of disbelief.

Which really means, ‘belief’.

Act NOW

2010-11-01T16:20:00.000-07:00

November seems to be the month of Yoga Challenges. Seemingly a paradox, yoga studios in my city throw up the challenge of 30 or 40 consecutive days of steadiness and ease to their student base. This provides the studios an influx of both students and cash, and offers students structure and solidarity in their yoga quest.

Last year I embarked on such a journey, learned a lot about myself, and gave myself one injury that took six months to heal and another one that is now chronic. Ah, the dark side of yoga. I would not take it back though. It gave me more perspective into that slippery slope that we call achievement. It happens even in yoga. It happened to me.

It was a dark and stormy night . . . Oh, no, no it wasn’t. Just kidding. All dramatics aside, when I read a fellow yogini’s blog about embarking on a 30 day challenge, I was reminded of my ridiculous (in retrospect) goal of doing two classes a day, for 30 days straight. Then I logged onto Facebook, where another sweet yoga soul wrote about a 40 day yoga/raw food challenge. I guess I can’t really call it ridiculous or judge what I did. I can, however, look at the motivations behind that decision to understand, not what I did or why, but to better understand myself.

So often we get caught up in the outcome, the conclusions. When we only focus on the result of an experience or problem, then we are missing the journey. Remember, it is the train ride, not the station.

When we throw ourselves a challenge, are we asking ourselves to experience the whole of it, or are we focussing only on completing it? Is it the hours on the mat that we open ourselves to, or the toned abs and arms we get as a result? Will we be happier, better, stronger, more content after those 30 days? It seems to be the general agreement that this is so. Just check out a yoga studio’s website selling its latest 30 or 40 challenge.

J Krishnamurti said, “You think you will be content when you have achieved all that you want. Contentment comes when you understand what you actually are and do not pursue what you should be. There is no contentment when you choose to be content; contentment doesn’t come that way.”

There. He said it. We can really only be happy when we understand ourselves as we really are, and not what we think we should be. So if you are considering completing a yoga challenge as a way to become better, calmer, insert superlative here, perhaps you will be more well-served by letting your yoga complete you. Let your yoga challenge you. Yoga is truly the quest for the true self, as Stephen Cope has named one of his books, and this quest is not over in 30 or 40, or even 300, 3000 days.

So what to do? My suggestion is to act. To get on your mat, get into your life. Experience fully, but never with an eye to the ‘end’ or the ‘result.’ In this way we deepen our self knowledge without judgement, and as the Bhagavad Gita suggests, we act without clinging to the fruits of our actions.

Expectations on the Path

2010-03-27T10:54:00.001-07:00

A dear friend of mine has begun her journey into yoga on her mat. It's very sweet to get the odd email from her asking about yoga things when previously our dialogue online has been mostly about when and where we can socialize. Recently she has amazed herself by going to class one day to find that her body could do things that just two days before she thought impossible. She wrote to ask me if she could expect these types of 'plateaus' as she continues on this path.

I teach one beginner class a week and nearly all of my private students come to me as beginners, so this question really resonated with me. I am sharing my response:

Dear Sweet Devi! - I'm not sure if I'd call it plateaus - just the semantics of the expectation of 'judged progression' which doesn't really fit in with my world-view of yoga ; )

You will find that as you learn to connect with your body in new ways, you can move it in new ways. It's a mind-body-awareness connection. If you get blocked physically or mentally, through stress, fatigue, or whatever, and that connection becomes clouded or diminished, I guess you could expect to 'stay' at a certain 'level' hence a plateau-thingy.

There is a pervading belief these days that knowledge is solely related to intellect and our yoga tells us that it is that, as well as that it also right-brain dependent. You can understand something with your (left) brain, but you only really KNOW with your 'heart' (right brain functions). The most amazing yogis and eastern spiritual leaders were/are often (almost always) great scholars, and they didn't stop with external knowledge. They continued to delve into the mysteries of the self. Yoga is a path to self realization. Most of your 'gains' in your practice will be related to your connection with yourself. At first it is mostly on the physical level. And then it changes. It goes deeper.

Your physical practice may ebb and flow, and if you stay connected regardless of whether you can touch your toes, you find that there is a whole world of knowledge available to you that you might not have suspected existed. It's tough to prove scientifically, though there is increasing exploration in this vein. But it is definitely tangible to the experienc-er.

I often tell my students - "Let go of expectations, but swim in intentions" I know is sounds so backwards to our western logic! When we set expectations, we actually limit ourselves to a limited outcome. When we determine an intention, we really have to think about it rather than about HOW to do it. Then we prepare ourselves for an adventure rather than a task. We stay more present because every step could reveal a gem for us to consider. If we determine only expectation, we tend to numb ourselves to anything other than the result, and it's usually only a positive experience if we get the result we think we need. Expectation and acceptance are on the opposite sides of the coin . . .

Speaking of two sides of a coin:

I am open to the guidance of synchronicity, and do not let expecations hinder my path. - Dalai Lama
When one’s expectations are reduced to zero, one really appreciates everything one does have. - Steven Hawking

2010-01-10T15:00:00.001-08:00

Welcome to 2010! I recently received a quarterly newsletter from Bernie Clark, my Yin Yoga teacher, that I'd love to share with you. In it, Bernie makes the assertion that for most of us, yoga is not a performance sport. Rather than working for optimal performance, we look to move toward optimal health.

As it is the time of year when we consider creating healthier habits and diminishing unhealthy ones, Bernie's message is one to keep in mind! Check out more about Bernie at www.yinyoga.com, and if you'd like to review his newsletter in full (I'd recommend it - there are a whole bunch of nifty graphs) check out http://yinyoga.com/Newsletter_volume1.php.

Bernie offers us, "advice about how deep we should go in our poses to ensure we achieve optimal health. Note, we are not talking about optimal performance! That is the trade-off we have to understand. Whenever we practice yoga, we need to be clear about our intentions: are we striving for optimal health, or are we working toward some performance goals? Athletes, dancers, and gymnasts may well be trying to maximize their range of motion, but this does not mean that they are getting healthier. Quite the contrary: many athletes and dancers have significant joint issues in later life because they dangerously stressed their bodies to obtain maximum performance when they were younger.

The optimal position for health is the Goldilocks' position: not too much and not too little."

Wouldn't this be a wonderful thing to keep in mind as we move, not only on our mat, but through life? After all, our life is not a performance!

As you commit to new schedules, or making old ones more efficient; to introducing healthier habits and overall optimization of your health, remember Goldilocks. I hope you get it 'just right' : )

Another Lesson in Aparigraha

2009-11-17T16:52:00.000-08:00

I managed to get myself invited to a clothes swap party. This is the second one in the past month I’ve been invited to. I couldn’t make the first one, so when I got invited to yet another, I figured that the universe was politely suggesting I needed to clear some crap out of my closet. I hope I can use the word ‘crap’ and still be all yoga-like : )

Around this time, I had decided that I was tired of rooting through wicker baskets filled to the brim with yoga clothes. It had become like the magician’s magic hankie - every time I pulled a stretchy top out of the basket, a myriad of them would work themselves out as if being pulled from the sleeve of a sly prestidigitator’s jacket. I wear yoga wear every day. Why should blouses and evening wear have top billing on the hangers? I wanted face each morning by going to my closet, imagining I was in Lululemon, jauntily choosing a new yogified outfit for the day.

So I took heed and decided to delve into the mysteries of what lie between hangers of old business wear and togs of my pre-yogi life. I used to work in and around the corporate environment so within the confines of my closet were still the remnants from that life, which seems so long ago now. In fact, I can remember when I would meet new people and I first started to identify myself as a yoga teacher, I always qualified it with, “ . . . but I used to be in the corporate world.” As time marched on, as I became more confident that people would accept and respect me as a yoga teacher, and my ego moved more in line with that, I dropped the footnote. Just the other day a student came up to me and connected with me because he had read my bio at one of the studios I worked at. The bio indicated that I had left the corporate world - and I had to laugh, because I kind of forgot that I still had the vestige of this ‘clarification’ hanging about. Ah, well - he told me that it did encourage him to keep moving in his direction to something that was more fulfilling for him than working at the office.

The next week another studio asked for an updated bio and I submitted one without any mention of what I did before I became a yoga teacher. I had finally exorcised the compulsion to qualify my right to be where I am by way of my LBY (life before yoga)! Or so I thought.

Of course we all come to where we are as a result of where we have been. There is no need to erase the past. But there is no need to hang on tightly to it either and I realized that these little mentions were a way of holding on to something that was no longer serving me. In fact, it had stopped serving me many years ago. So much so that I consciously chose to step away and pursue another path that filled me up in a much more meaningful way.

And there were of course some items in my closet that I had not worn since I sat at a boardroom table. They came to face me in the shadows of that closet. In particular, a gorgeous, amazingly tailored VERY expensive designer suit I actually paid full price for. Every year when I culled my wardrobe (which I do religiously) it always had made the cut. It was so lovely. So refined. But so totally useless to me now.

This suit gave me a lot to think about. Why was I keeping it when I would rarely ever have the occasion to wear it? How was having this suit serving me? Was it simply bolstering some identification with the privilege of calling it my own?

I began to muse about what things we keep in our lives, what we hold on to from the past, which no longer serve us. Things like old suits and textbooks and teddy bears from our youth do little to actually harm us. But there are some things we grip tightly to that not only do not serve us, they become injurious. One of the tenets of the yogic path is to practice aparigraha - non-clinging. We are pretty good at clinging, holding, gripping. But from a yogic perspective, this causes much suffering, so it is best to lay off of our velcro-ways. Like still ‘hating’ someone who once crossed you years ago. Or an image of ourselves as incomplete and small. Or even the assessment of ourselves as ‘inflexible’ or weak.

Every moment we have the grace to breath another breath is a full moment, complete in and of itself. Although the past delivers us to this moment, we cannot fully immerse ourselves in it until we step from the past and leave it behind. Each moment has the potential to deliver a brand new perspective. If we are diligent enough to recognize this, or at least practice recognizing this, we are better able to release ourselves from the bonds of the perceptions that may no longer work in the most life affirming way. And when we can more clearly see where we are in each new experience, we can make a choice about how we wish to be in that experience. This is freedom.

In the end, I kept the suit. One of my students pointed out that I could wear it to a funeral. . . . I considered that I could use it on Hallowe’en to dress up as a business person. However I may use it, I am humbled knowing that I can’t quite break that bond of attachment. In this, however, perhaps this suit is serving a purpose after all.

Yogi Ping Pong

2009-10-28T15:35:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about ego these days. Is it good, is it bad, is it to be squelched or celebrated? So many questions.

The ping pong of questions rallied as I was speaking with a friend about how daunting it can be when someone comes to critique your class. I shared with a friend my recent ‘aha’ about the stint of darkness in my life as it related to an out of control ego and mused that perhaps this was the culprit in the daunting-ness. Ping. We then moved to the thought of, ‘well, if I’m feeling insecure, then maybe I need MORE ego-turbo-boost.’ Pong. Then it came around to the idea that perhaps the daunt was a symptom of ego that was not serving us; ego which is identifying so much with individual preservation that it usurps our connection with the universal, making us feel isolated and unsure. Ping. And back and forth. So many questions.

Later that day I returned home to a house that was getting a new coat of paint on a couple of walls. One of the painters approached me. It turned out that he was leaving to Thailand in the coming months to become ordained as a Buddhist monk and wanted to know if I might be interested in purchasing a rare Ganesh bronze. ‘Wow.’ I thought, ‘What a strange coincidence that I’m having this internal and external ego discussion, and a Buddhist nearly-monk arrives to add to the discussion.’ Pong.

I told him about, well, what I’ve written about here and the questions that have been surfacing. His general take on the matter was that once we have experienced the ego in all its glory, it should be dissolved. Ping. Then I offered a more Tantric outlook on the situation which begged the question - can we celebrate all manifestations of the manifest - even the ego? Pong. We pinged and ponged, suggesting books and texts and teachers to each other. We discussed the Tantric celebration of embodiment and the Buddhist dissolution of ego and the self and commented on how both of these paths are intended to lead to the same thing - freedom and bliss.

At one point I sighed and remarked, “Oh I just wish I could have many lives learn all of these teachings and remember them all!” At which point he replied, “I’m hoping this is my last one!” We both stopped and laughed, nodding our heads in agreement. And therein lies the essence of difference between a Tantric and Buddhist approach . . . to the same questions, both arriving at the same point.

It would have been wonderful to continue the discussion for some time, but he did have to get back to work. And I had to do my taxes. As we moved back into our spheres of reality, the shift was perceptible. From the sublime to the ridiculous aptly describes it. And it was all so perfect.

But there are so many questions . . .

Visit from the Ego Monster

2009-10-27T21:10:00.001-07:00

A strange thing happened the other day when I had to fill out a self assessment form for my performance at work. They are not relegated merely to the corporate world as one might suspect, even in yoga these things do exist. There was a list of things I was to comment on and under “Other Comments,” an unexpected line of ink floated out from under my pen:

“This kind of feedback used to result in making me feel as if I were under intense scrutiny, but now I know it is a form of support to help me serve my students better.”

As I was writing this I had to stop and assess this statement. For the past two months I had been in self doubt on an almost daily basis because I was feeling that I was failing at many things in my life, including my teaching. I felt dark, unstable and always on the edge of something raw. I felt scrutinized by my family, by my peers and most of all myself and I did not know how to not feel this way.

As I read my self-assessment I had a sudden realization that I had been whooped by the Ego Monster. It slid in under the auspices of crisis and then decided to stay a while. It lived in the crevasses of my resultant rocky self esteem, advancing under the camouflage of things like ‘class feedback sessions’. When the monster was revealed, it came as a shock. The ego is so deft at disguising itself and manifesting in a myriad of forms that it can be tricky to identify. I was worried I was becoming depressed. I was afraid I was a bad teacher. I thought people didn’t want to be around me and I worried that my boyfriend would break up with me. I didn’t think of any of this as an ego-issue.

My ego resisted change, although change is in my life. My ego insisted on perfection, although my life has become a bit haphazard. My ego insisted that I be an expert in teaching many styles of yoga, although I am a student of all styles I teach. My ego asked that the future be wrapped up in a bow of certainty, although the future is a gift of adventure that waits to be unwrapped.

But sneaky, sneaky ego. My spiritual knowledge and my skills at ‘observation’ allowed me to become very adept at only seeing what I wanted to see. I had all the language, the concepts and the nimbleness of mind to paint my ego with a trompe l’oeil, making it nearly imperceptible to detect.

As a person who spends her time looking at the world from a tantric viewpoint, that all is valid and all is an expression of the Divine - even the ego - I cannot demonize this monster. It’s more of a ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ trickster that unless held in check, just goes along and does it’s thing. And it grows, perhaps like a mutating cell. And it gets stronger. And feeds on some of the very things that runs counter to my own idea of the most life-affirming qualities of existence.

So what now? I can’t go sit in a Zen monastery to dissolve the ego, nor would I want to. The ego serves me well, when it has not become toxic. A good way to make something less scary is to remove its effectiveness. For me, this means celebrating the change, the studentship, the uncertainty. It means remembering to look at the big picture and to laugh at all the foibles and challenges in my life. It means recognizing the honour in being supported through feedback, and it means saying thank you. It means cultivating a sense of deep gratitude for all aspects of my life and all the people who meet me in my days - all of whom are my teachers. Is it possible to shrink that Ego Monster into a very manageable, bite-sized piece? Yes, I think that is part of the big picture.

Lil' Black Pony

2009-07-03T17:40:00.000-07:00

I spent with morning with an amazing group of people. They inspired, supported and encouraged me to become better. For this, I am grateful.

I know this sounds like I’ve had a major breakthrough and that some pivotal event occurred this morning - in reality, a breakthrough did come about, but it seems like this happens so often these days that it is far from the norm. And although it also sounds as if I’m popping ‘e’ on a regular basis with my “love and gratitude” mantra, I am not - I am just in awe and gratitude for how wonderful life and the people around me can be.

This morning a group of fellow Anusara students/teachers (Chris Chavez’s last day of Immersion 2 has left no doubt in my mind there is little difference between those distinctions) met to have a practice together. There is nothing unusual about this, except for today we were in a home, rather than a studio, and although someone led the warmup and invocation, this was not a class. We were practicing together so that we could play with our asanas, supporting each other to spot, sharing hints and experiences of what has worked for us, as we moved into more advanced postures than we would have on our own.

Each person brought her own great strength to the practice - Val, ever-determined and open; Amy, passion and verve; Sue, sunny, with an amazing sense of ease; Hope, strong, confident, with so much knowledge; Karen, curious and intent; Jodi, receptive and grounded; and Trisha, Val’s sister, observant and self-sufficient. What a group!

When we began I shared a story with the group about a time when I was going to sub a class in a part of town that I hadn’t been in for a long time. As I was driving there I began to doubt if I really knew where the studio was. When the doubt began to seep in, I watched myself become ungrounded and worried. Then I reminded myself that I had been there before, and that I would begin to see landmarks I recognized. Of course I did, and the doubt turned into triumph. I had indeed been there before. I explained that sometimes when we move into crazy-disco-pretzel advanced yoga postures, we let that doubt creep in. But in reality, we have experienced most aspects of most postures already. When we connect with that remembrance, we know we’ve been there before and as we become more confident we create a more solid foundation to move from.

After our warm-up we moved into more advanced postures - my pick was handstand press. Yes, I have been like a dog with a porkchop on that one, even dreaming of it. Alas, alack, it is still elusive. One day . . . : )

We sat outdoors after, munching on watermelon, crudites and other sundry snacks. It was a beautiful morning and we were basking in communion as well as the sun. It just felt good. We got to know each other a bit and about what is going on in our lives, what is important to us.

Later this afternoon, I was sunning myself on my deck, thinking about how wonderful it is to have abundance of community. I thought about how earlier, my friends had helped and encouraged each other, breaking out in hoots when someone did something amazing. How we spontaneously spotted each other. And then a sudden, strong and nearly overwhelming urge to do a drop back to handstand ran through me. My internal dialogue went something like this:

“But I’m in my bathing suit.”

“So what? No one is here”

“Yes, exactly. So when I crush my skull and snap my neck on the concrete deck I won’t even be able to call 911.”

“But you KNOW how to do this. You used to do it all the time when you did gymnastics.”

“Ya. I was 10 . . . I could also do somersaults without touching the ground. I was still holding out for Santa too. Things have changed.“

“You can do all the aspects of this posture. You are fine in urdva dhanurasana. You have a super-strong core. You can do handstand.”

“Um, well . . . Ok . . . I’m scared.”

“ No, need. You know how to do this. You can do this.”

“Maybe I can wait until someone comes and they can put a hand behind my back.”

“No need. You have been here before.”

“Yeah . . . I have. Right. I do know this.”

Then I got up, moved my suntanning yoga mat about a foot to the right and did a drop back to handstand. And I did it again. And again. I indeed HAD been there before. My body remembered. I had simply forgotten that I knew.

One thing that I am certain of though is that I would have never even attempted this had I not spent three hours this morning with these yoginis who were so full of support and encouragement. It’s as if a little bit of that magic stuck with me after we parted. Did I mention that I’m grateful? !

So the press handstand remains to be experienced. That’s fine with me. Today was like asking for a white pony for Christmas and getting a black one. . . I frickin’ got a pony!! Woo hoo!

Mind the Grind, Week 3

2009-06-29T15:46:00.000-07:00

How do You Face a Mountain?

I thought I’d take a moment to write a bit about finishing times. Often the first response I get from people when they begin to consider coming to the Tuesday or Thursday climbs is, ‘Uh, my time will be slow. I’ve . . . ‘ What follows is something along one of these lines: a) never done it before/only done it once; b) been sick/injured/busy and am now out of shape; or c) always been slow.

Perhaps the thought of any group activity lends itself to competition. As far as I’m concerned, the mountain itself is enough of a challenge, and so the idea behind this program is unlike a lot of fitness regimes. There is no concern with getting a better time. There is no goal to get faster, or even stronger. It is likely that all of these things will occur, but the principle focus here is observing your experience.

To help alleviate some of the pressure that may be inherent in group activities, please know that:

We begin as a group, but the experience on the way up is self-administered
We finish at different times. You can wait if you’d like or get going.
You don’t even have to join the group - you can use the weekly emails as a self guide if you can’t make the group times
It is about your experience. So if you want to stop at each quarter mark to take in the beauty of the forest or if you want to power up the hill as you connect with how the muscles in your legs feel, go for it! It’s all valid.

The other day as I was hiking up the trail, I passed a man who was carrying a bicycle. Yes. True story. He stood aside so I could pass him in a narrow part, because the bike was taking up a lot of space. I reluctantly did, because he was keeping a pretty good pace already and with him behind me, I knew I’d have to be constantly watching the competitive nature in myself to be more concerned with where he was than where I was. But something quite sweet and unexpected happened.

When you are a man carrying a bike up the Grind, people talk to you. They have questions. I found it so enjoyable to listen to people we passed as they reacted to this odd and amusing sight. Almost everyone chatted with this man and he told most of him his story, what he was doing, why, how heavy the bike was (20 lbs), and they in turn assured him that they had never seen such a sight. This man with the bike expanded his boundaries and the boundaries of each person he met to create a connection with each person. It was really neat.

One of the most amazing aspects of this fellow’s journey up was that reaching the top was not the end for him. His goal in getting up the mountain was so that he could get back DOWN it. Apparently there is a dirt road up there that you can cycle down. So for him, the summit was only half way and really, the beginning. He certainly wasn’t timing it. It wasn’t a competition for him. It was just one of the things he did so that he could enjoy the ride down. Hmm. The gondola is kind of nice, with a great view. Maybe we should consider the hike up as a means of being able to take the gondola down! : )

The Grind offers us a great opportunity to understand how we are when facing a mountain. Fear, competitiveness, fierceness, surrender, control - all are valid. The real journey is in how we understand and come a little closer to knowing ourselves.

This morning I picked up the book 365nivana here and now - living every moment in enlightenment, compiled by Josh Baran. It is one of those books you flip open and see if the page you land on speaks to you. I opened it to a passage from Jack Kornfield:

‘When I returned to my teacher Ajahn Chah after completing a long period of intensive training in other monasteries, I told him about the insights and special experiences I had encountered. He listened kindly and then responded, “It’s just something else to let go of, isn’t it?”

We need to remember that where we are going is here, that any practice is simply a means to open our heart to what is in front of us. Where we already are is a path and a goal.’

Anusara Immersion 2, Day III

2009-06-26T18:20:00.000-07:00

Our third fun-filled day of joy (‘cause that’s the tantra way) began with questions about yesterday’s teachings and then the in-depth consideration of Sjanie’s fabulous back and Hard Tail. Jason announced the YYoga is now the sole source of the Hard Tail clothing line (which is a dangerous thing for me - I don’t have to travel to Santa Monica for a fix now.) The purpose of the extended demonstration of Sjanie in down dog was to clear some things up about inner spiral and outer spiral of the arms. Chris decided that we were better thinking of these concepts, wrt the arms, in terms of expansion and contraction.

Expansion and contraction was the theme of the morning’s practice, which was thankfully not as physically challenging as days prior. It wasn’t exactly ambulation in the park either : ) Chris was obviously feeling better (hooray!), with a stronger voice, but the energy of the class was a bit more muted than on previous days. I think we were all moving a bit slower, but hopefully, happily so.

The lecture focused on the Loops. Ankle loop connects to the SHIN loop. SHIN loop connects to the THIGH loop, THIGH loop connects to the PELVIC loop, Oh mercy how they scare! Okay. Not scary at all, merely detailed. And we also learned about and discussed (which is such a great way of learning Chris - thanks) the 36 Tattvas . . . which are a bit loopy in their own way owing to the tautologic mind blowing mental gymnastics they present. More on that later . . .

One cool concept that Chris shared with us was in response to a question Karen asked about organic vs. muscular energy. Chris asked us to think about a tree. He did not specify what kind of tree - we could have whatever tree we wanted. Barbara Walters field day. The mighty tree draws its energy and strength to grow and in turn grow strong, from the sun and water. It literally pulls the energy from the sun and the water from the ground inward. This is muscular energy. Pulling inward, providing strength. Then our mighty tree, as it grows, expands. It expands in all directions. It’s roots and branches grow longer, it’s trunk grows outward. It even projects leaves and oxygen outward. This is organic energy. Cool. I hope I paraphrased this correctly. Great question Karen!

Nico and I were chatting at the end of our class about how questions were so important to fueling the very meaty parts of our discussions. And Andrea (I think it was her) made a great point that Chris’s teaching style supported discussion by inviting questions and taking the time to explore them. She reflected that it made the experience richer. Yup.

Now to the Tattvas. The 36 Tattvas are principles that explain the workings of everything. Oh, right, THAT - just a minor topic. I’m glad someone has this figured out. Actually a couple of groups organized these principles - the Samkhyas and Tantrikas. This is no small philosophical concept and there was a very full discussion of the absolute universal vs. relative material aspects of these Tattvas. They help to give us a framework for understanding non-material existence vs. embodied existence. And how the former feeds the latter, and the latter quests for the former.

I will explore the first 11 Tattvas in depth on another post. But my brain is still machinating through the application and ramifications of them as they pertain to the unmanifest universal energy and how it transmutes into manifest material form and how that manifest material form contemplates and understands itself and the unmanifest realm. And that is just waaaaay too heavy for 6 o’clock on a Friday : )

So many blessings and rockaliscious love to everyone in that room today. See you all tomorrow!

Anusara Immersion 2, Day II

2009-06-25T21:47:00.001-07:00

Wow - what a day! Again the sense of community and support was fantastic. There was a sense of easiness and sharing in the group which is wonderful to be part of. A lot of information was to be gleaned about inner spiral, outer spiral and by the end of that discussion, my head was spinning . . . Jason, Nico, and Stephanie offered some great imput to help clarify and Chris had us practicing what he was teaching so that we could feel it in our bodies. And Sjanie was always at the ready, channeling the reference desk gals from the 1957 movie Desk Set. I’m not sure if it was the cumulative effect of Day 2 and Day 1, but it seemed like a pretty intense practice day, with hanumanasana and vasisthasana crazy variations burning it up. (Hey - congrats Jonathan on your first drop back!! Wooo!)

Chris, sitting atop his ‘shrine’ with various prasads of herbal cough and cold remedies was only missing a marigold garland or two. He pulled off a full day - we were rooting for him! He elucidated on many of the teachings of the prior day and one of these insights that resonated with me was the encouragement to keep the brightness in our practice. This aligns with the first principle of the Anusara system: Set the foundation and open to grace.

It dawned on me that the idea that we should not allow the intensity of our practice to overpower our inner brightness, or grace is applicable not only to our yoga practice, but to our life. The concept of foundation, expanding (inner spiral) and stabilizing (outer spiral) are all relevant concepts in our everyday lives. It really struck me that our practice on the mat is a microcosm of our life, of the world around us and the universe. These principles can be applied, overlaid and played out, in many situations, not just with regard to asana practice.

These concepts made me think about how so often we overpower ourselves, our lives and the people around us. We force, we harden. Quite often this is effective in the short term, but as in asana practice, over the long term, this intensity can hurt us, burn us out or burn out the people around us. But then, the question remains, ‘Well, then how do we improve, how do we get better, how do we not slip into laziness and sloth?’

Krishna summed it up (in the Bhagavad Gita) when he told Arjuna, who asked a similar question, “You must act.” The idea that we simply give up in fear of doing the wrong thing doesn’t fit into this model. We must use our viveka, discernment. We must work to the edge of where we begin to fall out of grace, that edge where the shadows begin to grow and then move inward, back into the inner brightness, to bask in it and be THERE. Over time the edge will move and we will move with it. Full of grace.

We start by setting our foundation, then opening to grace. Acknowledging the easy, sweet fullness of brightness (inner body brightness). Then we create structure (muscle energy), so we can understand/feel the position we are in. With this structure in place we are free to expand (inner spiral) to seek, to explore. And with then we pull it in, set it down and stabilize (outer spiral) the expansion that we have opened up to. You can do this in vasisthasana or you can do this in life’s relationships. We do not need to over-effort though any of this. Over-efforting constricts our ability to expand, and paradoxically, trying to ‘push’ to force, caps the expansion in our life. If we understand that we can add the stability by pulling inward (not pulling away) without sacrificing the joys of expanding, perhaps we wouldn’t hurt ourselves as much.

This is yoga. This is life.

On another note, I whizzed out of the Immersion today to teach a class and then to meet a group I ‘lead’ up the Grouse Grind. There were ominous looking Dark Tower clouds shrouding the top of the ascent, so I was not so surprised that I was the only one who arrived at the bottom of the mountain. Oh, it was so tempting to go home and call it a day. But then I thought of Krishna’s words, and the idea that I did not need to over-effort, and I thought, ‘I got here, I made the effort to begin, so I will.’

As I began to trudge up the Grind, I began to compose this blog in my head, which I know, is not exactly being in the moment. It was much better in my head earlier this evening . . . : ) I also thought I’d try the inner body brightness concept out on the trip up. Usually I use my hands a lot to climb up, but I realized that this causes my lumbar spine to flatten and my shoulders to drop forward. I went up today, feeling like I looked like a gunslinger about to duel, with shoulders back and elbows bent, waterbottle at the ready. I must have not looked so intimidating as one woman hooted at me (still not sure why, but she seemed happy enough) and another woman asked me to help to determine if her contact lens was still in her eye. I was worried that by being so upright that I might take a tumble. I wondered if Megan’s three second rule would apply to someone helping scoop me off the trail swiftly. But I did not have to find out. I was comfortable the whole way up. I felt strong. I did not push to the point of hurting myself.

On the way down, crammed into a very loud gondola, I looked around. People were chatting, laughing, talking about their experience, congratulating each other and smiling. I noticed that there I was, for the second time today, amidst a group of people who were supporting each other, being sweet to each other, sharing a happy experience together.

Anusara Immersion 2, Day 1

2009-06-24T21:38:00.000-07:00

This evening as I was enjoying sushi with my boyfriend and his two kids, aged 13 and 11, we each shared around the table about something we learned today. These Waltons-esque moments are a pretty common occurrence with this bunch and I feel so blessed to have been accepted into a sweet, respectful and caring extended family.

I had been lucky to join them on their regular Wednesday night dinner this week. Usually I am teaching a class or am in West Vancouver, but today I had no class and was in the vicinity after finishing Day 1 of Anusara Immersion II, with Chris Chavez (who incidentally, really does ROCK). As the 13 year old daughter was telling us that she had learned there is now Twilight makeup and Bella and Edward barbie dolls, I flashed back to a moment in class when Chris was pointing out some of the characteristics of the Tantra movement, waaaay back in the day, as it pertained to our lecture on the history of yoga. One of the points was that Tantra used a ‘twilight’ language. I had never heard this term before and was intrigued. But not as intrigued as the daughter is about the Twilight movies : )

I was trying to think about what I learned today that I could sum up in, as Sean put it, “ a short succinct saying which encapsulates a universal truth.” Oh - there was so much to reflect upon. So much information, discussion about the quest for enlightenment and moksha (freedom) and how the different schools of thought have handled these concepts over the years. Indeed, as I was driving to dinner I passed a church with one of those message boards - the kind that usually has sayings like ‘Down in the mouth? It’s time for a faith lift!” - that read, “Knowledge is the path to freedom.” Whoa. Indeed. Bingo.

Embedded in the general experience of receiving an overview of the history of yoga, there were many other learnings. Some that I can think of are (random):

Seek the knowledge which serves you
Don’t let the intensity of your practice overpower your inner brightness
Our experience in our practice boils down to our quality of presence in our body
After years of interest in learning about the philosophy and history of yoga, some of it is finally sinking in . . . Thank you Gary Kraftsow, Bernie Clark, Jeffrey Armstrong, Georg Feuerstein, Stephen Cope and others
Community - feeling like there is a group, a big one, that supports, receives, expands, tests and exists for each of us to be part of.

This sense of community struck me with great force today. Indeed the discussions around dual vs. non-dual, could be a similar discussion around lack of community and abundance of community. Except for short and unique instances, human beings are generally designed for group play. So much of our pain and suffering comes from the sense of being alone, being isolated from our community, by not being accepted, fear of rejection, etc. Even though we live in communities, are around people much of the time, and live in societies based on mutual cooperation and sustainability, we often go through stretches of our lives when we just don’t see it. It is US and THEM. We look at things as very dualistic. We fail to see that ‘I’ am part of THEM.

Being in that room today with so many like-minded but wildly varying personalities, with each of us present, open hearted, open minded, and supporting each other, was a pivotal experience. It made me really know I had not only a community at large, but also an intimate community. We speak the same language, we laugh at the same jokes, we live our passions, and we care about each other. And we love to practice yoga together. As we chanted our opening invocation and oms, I was reminded of the Whos in Whoville, from How the Grinch Stole Christmas, whose dedication to living in the moment and grace of acceptance cracked open the even grinchiest Grinch’s heart. Open wide. Gotta love those Whos . . .

Later that night, when it was my turn to share what I had learned today, I still hadn’t synthesized all of this emotion, understanding and reflection so that I would be able to express it verbally to adults and kids alike. Plus it seemed a bit heavy for a makeup and barbie doll discussion. So I responded, “Today I learned that your second finger is also called your ‘driving finger’.” They thought this was hi-LAR-i-ous. . .

Grind Focus Week 2

2009-06-23T12:06:00.000-07:00

I have been working with Lululemon Park Royal to create a program called MIND the GRIND. We meet twice a week at the base of the mountain and everyone goes at his or her own pace to summit the 2800 feet (853 meter) climb. It is very loosely organized and people show up when they can make it.

The Grind is a physically challenging feat. Even more challenging is the mental aspect proposed. Each week people who have signed up receive an email with the Weekly Focus. This week's Focus is provided below. Even if you don't do the Grind, or live anywhere near Grouse Mountain, you can still do this exercise! If you'd like to receive weekly MIND the GRIND emails, please email me at robynellingson@gmail.com and I will add you to the list!

* * * *

MIND the GRIND

Weekly Focus - Observing Physical Sensations

This series is intended to help you hone the art of mindfulness.

It may seem an unlikely coupling - a torturous physical activity combined with a meditation technique - but really, these two things together can help to create a richer experience.

Using discomfort as a tool to stay present can actually make it easier to be ‘in the moment.’ And being in the moment can help us reduce the mental discomfort that the physical discomfort often feeds. If bettering your ascent time is your goal, paradoxically, letting go of grasping to the end result while you stay present, may free you to indeed scale up faster. Initially the work, both mentally and physically, will be challenging.

But as with everything, especially the Grind - the journey begins with a single step. And the first step is an age-old meditation technique, called Observing Your Body.

Indeed, our motivation for doing something like the Grind is to look better, to sleep better, to be more fit. All physical stuff. Although on some level many of us do recognize that part of the reason we want to partake in vigorous physical exercise is for how we ‘feel’ afterward, sometimes during. My own experience leads me to believe that this feeling is not merely physical, it is emotional also. Most often we feel good. Tired, but good.

As our physical and emotional beings are so knitted together, it makes a great deal of sense to avoid forsaking one for the benefit of the the other. So rather than distract ourselves from our physical state as we trudge up the Grind, let us begin to absorb ourselves more fully in it and explore what it means to be physical, to be embodied and our relationship with that.

So how?

On your journey up Grouse Mountain this week, take a moment at the bottom to be resolutely at the beginning. Avoid the urge to rush the start and take a couple of deep breaths, then begin. Acknowledge your first step.

Bring awareness to each step until you begin to become distracted by fatigue, self doubt, aches, etc. I often find that each of these ‘friends’ visit me throughout the hike, at different times depending on the day. As these feelings arise, see if you can simply observe them. Instead of thinking, “ I am so tired today” try to think, “this is what tired is.” Avoid the temptation to judge. Notice your aversion to ‘tired.’ Observe your feelings and reaction to ‘tired.’ Keep going.

Continue to bring awareness to the physical sensations in your body and notice how challenging it is not to judge. Just observe these sensations as feelings, trying to accept them as such. Some of the sensations may be muscle fatigue, bugs buzzing around you, lungs gasping for more air, being cold, being hot, sweating, etc.

As you climb, you may notice that it becomes more difficult to focus on directing your mental energies towards anything other than ‘one foot in front of the other.’ Observe this also, and keep going.

Before you know it, you will be at the top. Savour the end, the act of the last step. When you finish try to observe how you feel, what you feel. Notice how quickly you start to feel ‘better,’ and notice the relief this provides you.

Observing your body is one of the techniques you can use when you sit to meditate. Whether you are on your mat or on a mountain, the steps are the same.

Grind Mind

2009-05-27T10:47:00.000-07:00

I had a very liberating experience last week that I have been sharing with my classes.

As part of my Ambassador-ship with Lululemon here in West Vancouver, we will be holding a free Grouse Grind/Yoga session beginning weekly in mid-June. I will be posting details soon on my website at http://sites.google.com/site/robynellingsonyoga/.

If you are reading this blog from afar, you may not be aware that the Grouse Grind is a hike up Grouse Mountain which is like hopping on a stairclimber for nearly 2 miles straight up with an elevation gain of 2,600 feet. It takes anywhere from 45 minutes to 90 minutes, with most people being quite thrilled to complete it in 1 hour. You take a gondola down . . . happily. It is a wonderful thing to have in our backyard here in Vancouver. Check out www.grousemountain.com/Summer/ for more information.

Last year when I began my fascination with the Grind for the first time I had been running regularly and felt quite fit, especially in the cardio realm. My first Grind of the year and each subsequent one was a battle of ‘Girl vs. Mountain’. I became convinced that it is always hard, always painful, and that the reward was always delayed until that wonderful feeling of having it distinctly behind you. Nevertheless, my goal was to stay in the discomfort and to avoid the temptation of the mind to distract and to race to the future. So each step I took was an exercise in being present. This tended to make the time fly and the screaming lungs and legs less of a focus.

In preparation for taking a group up the Grind this year, I got up early on the weekend, corralled some willing participants and headed up on the day after it opened for the season. Expecting that my cardio level had dropped because I’ve mostly been doing yoga this year, I decided to drop any expectations - to simply show up and to see what would happen.

This ‘show up’ policy is something I’ve invoked in my own practice. It seems that if the expectations are removed that it is much easier to go to class when energy levels are low, or if there is a lot going on in life. When I commit to ‘show up’ it is amazing what actually unfolds on the mat.

What happened on that first trip up the Grind this year blew me away. It was easy. No discomfort. I sang and danced my way up (ok - just a bit of humming and hopping when no one was watching). At the end of the upward trek I was puzzled by the ease and joy of this journey which is universally recognized as an instrument of physical torture. I hadn’t been training - just a few shorter runs and two stairclimber prep sessions. What had happened?

How could it be that there was gain without pain? How could there be success without goal setting, striving, and assertion?

Could there be something to the ‘show up’ method?

In the classical eight-limbed model of yoga, Patanjali wrote about the Yamas and Niyamas, which are usually described as moral restraints and guidelines. I like a broader description of them that suggests the Yamas and Niyamas are qualities that return to us or shine brighter in us as we begin to smooth the harried strands of the mind; as we move more into line with our true nature. . . but I do digress here : ) One of the Yamas that this Grind experience made me think about is non-clinging, or non-grasping, aparigraha in Sanskrit.

When we hold fast and cling to, well, pretty much anything, we resist the flow of that around us. Sometimes we can use this to our advantage. But it seems that this grasping has become the default button in our collective consciousness and it permeates all aspects of our lives. We hold onto ideas and expectations, onto money, onto people in our lives, perceptions of ourselves - to such an extent that we often ‘fix’ ourselves in place. As our lives and the world around us changes (which is invariably and constantly does), our fixedness can create a lot of suffering. Less ease in our lives. Dis-ease. Expectations can be a real killer.

Fear pops up in the oddest places. It seems that we are afraid that if we don’t grip tightly things like the people we love, the things we like to have around us, and even our perceptions, these things will be taken away from us or will dissolve into oblivion. Even when we look at our attitudes around our physical body we can question whether we are working out because it makes us feel great or if we are working out because we are afraid that if we don’t we will lose our fitness, our figure, and will not fit into those summer jeans. Is our approach out of joy or fear? I suspect that if we lose the fear-based motivation that our requirements to grip and hold lessen and loosen, allowing us to be fully in the experience.

I don’t think that simply showing up at the base of the Grind, without expectations made it easy for me that first day on the mountain. I believe it had more to do with the ongoing practice of ‘show up’ and see what happens. No expectations, just a resolve to accept whatever experience arose. When this was applied to my physical practice consistently over the past year, my body became less constricted, more open, and more able to respond to a crazy new stress. 2,830 steps of that new stress.

If you live in Vancouver, please visit my website for updates on when the Grind/Yoga times will be happening, starting in June. Then you can join in the joy and bliss of body/mind connection for 2,830 steps straight up a mountain!

2009-04-07T16:56:00.000-07:00

Ah Spring has Sprung. At least I hope so! We can always count on this occurring, year after year, without doubting it. It is, however, the question of when . . .

Everything is in expansion mode right now. Plants under the soil are bursting from the ground, flowers on the trees are reaching their petals outward as they reveal themselves. As the air warms up, sleepy insects begin their quest for pollen and nourishment. The heat on the pavement radiates. Expressions on people's faces open into smiles, or at least relief as we heave sighs of 'finally!'

It seems that when the weather becomes friendlier, so do we. At least here in the city it seems this way. We open up. We share our space with each other as we move outdoors. And so we open our hearts to each other, in a way embracing each other as we connect with this most base recognition of our life-force. Hooray for the sun!

This morning I was up early and decided to talk a walk as the city came to life. As I was making my way over the Cambie Street Bridge I realized that the fact I forgot my sunglasses was going to cause some discomfort. The glorious sun was at a direct level to the east, washing False Creek with an ochre blush. My eyes began to fill with tears and as they began to stream down my face I realized that I might look a bit distraught instead of merely sunlight-sensitive. Just as I was thinking this I looked ahead and began wiping the crocodile tears away. I caught the eye of a woman walking in my direction and for a moment I thought that I might recognize her, perhaps from a class. She came right up to me, touched my elbow and with much concern asked, "Are you alright?"

I almost began crying for real! It was such a touching act from a complete stranger. I assured her that it was merely a light sensitivity and that I had forgotten my sunglasses. She moved on with her day, in the opposite direction, after receiving a large serving of gratitude from me.

In her act of stepping outside of herself to reach out to me, this complete stranger precipitated an expansion of my heart. A blossoming of shraddha, or faith - that which is directed and governed by the heart. It reminded me of that scene in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas when the Grinch heard the Whos singing, even after he had taken all of their material things, and 'his heart grew three sizes that day.' (I especially like the graphic of his heart swelling to break the x-ray box).

This faith in others, in the humanity in ourselves can help us to deepen our experiences with each other and with ourselves. Like the sun shining brightly in the clear spring sky - we are often reminded it is there only when the clouds of our ignorance and of doubt are removed.

If we open to the expansive nature of our hearts, the rest will happen naturally as this bursting forward is not only the nature of our hearts but of the universe that we are part of and participate in. This expansion is a law that governs us as matter, in our material form. The less we resist it, the more ease we have in our lives. The ability to yield to this is aided by shraddha.

Clutter

2009-04-01T13:47:00.001-07:00

Oops - it's been a while since I've posted. . . There have been many changes afoot and this has kept my energies focussed elsewhere. Primarily I've been moving. Again. This is my 23rd move in 21 years, so it's not as if this is a new processes for me. But still, the act of reviewing everything you own and whether you still need it/want it/will use it is a task that requires a fair amount of mental energy.

As I was going through this process and musing over an expensive pair of shoes that have been in need of fixing for the past four years and that have moved with me for the sixth time, I was glad that I don't have a LOT of material possessions. My heart went out to those who have to go through a household of things that have been accumulation for 25 years . . .

But the shoes made me think about the many things that we clean, care for, store, pack up, move, unpack, create space for, etc., that are either in disrepair or not functioning properly. What about the items that we don't even really like anymore? Or those that have dated. Or worn. Why do we keep expending the time, energy and resources to lug these things around if they are not serving us anymore? It seems that it's pretty easy to become attached to material possessions.

Feng shui and vastu shastri masters will tell you that excess clutter impedes the flow of energy through our physical spaces. Most of us inherently feel better and more calm in a space that is clean, neat and tidy. There's that clean desk theory also . . . Thankfully we do not live in our storage lockers.

Or do we?

What about the clutter in our minds; the thoughts and ideas picked up long ago that no longer serve us? Those thoughts that we have held since we were teenagers or young adults. The ideas that shaped us as we grew. Back then.

So many of these concepts that we picked up along the way create havoc when we 'move' into new phases in our life or step into the river of change as we move through life. Some of these old concepts just don't fit any more. Others don't work to support us as the person we've become. Many of them are simply not ours - borrowed ideas that we forgot to give back.

We often carry all of these things around with us, utilizing a lot of mental energy and sometimes hurting ourselves in the process. By finding a way to relieve ourselves of this mental clutter we can create space for new thoughts, new ideas to explore and new concepts to identify with as we evolve as human beings in our lives. We become much lighter as the mental loads we have been carrying begin to fall away from the grasp of ego.

Practices like yoga and meditation are concerned with the energies that we use, mental and otherwise, and help us create a structure to begin to optimize them. Usually the first stage that presents itself is the ability to step away from the thoughts - just far enough away to see them for what they really are. Awareness is a great gift of yoga.

Then we can begin to look at ways to work with this awareness to determine how we can become lighter and freer. Just as in moving house, we can determine whether it makes sense to transport particular thoughts/concepts/ideas - like our material possessions - with us as we move in our evolutionary direction.

What's Your Motivation?

2009-02-25T13:14:00.000-08:00

Last week I arrived early to The Yoga Practice, a studio where I teach in idyllic Ambleside-by-the-Sea. It was a lovely sunny afternoon so I decided to amble on the seawall to soak up some of the rays and smell the ocean; perhaps something inspiring was waiting to reveal itself.

There were many people out and about, kids and parents’ voices sounding from the nearby playground, strollers with strollers and wee ones in tow, solo amblers such as myself, people sitting on benches doing their best imitation of solar panels, and runners sauntering along at varying speeds. My attention turned to the runners, because in this scenario they seemed to belong to the ‘one of these things is not like the other’ group, a la Sesame Street (I really wanted to write ‘peanut butter sandwiches’). While most of the Whos in Amblesideville were visibly and audibly enjoying the day, the moment, the experience, the runners whizzed or lumbered past with mostly pained expressions on their faces, seemingly in a great need to get somewhere, to end the pain.

I used to be a fabulously type A runner, timing every run (and stopping the clock at stoplights!), measuring every route, training for something all the time. I’ve completed many marathons and half marathons and I loved running when I was thick in the intensity of it. Or, to be more precise, I loved the way I felt after I finished running. Unless I was injured. Or sick. Or my time was disappointing. There would be the occasional day where I’d go for a run and be in ‘the zone’ the entire time, and this feeling of presence was wonderful. But most days my running experience was overshadowed by the voice that told me,‘well, you didn’t get much sleep last night, so no wonder you’re dragging your butt,’ or, ‘only three more miles, less than thirty minutes left’ or, ‘I hate the wind - it’s why I’m going to have a slow time.’ Or something along these lines.

This posting is not to diss runners, or criticize or make fun of running. That day on the seawall did provide something inspiring and it was triggered by the runners. It made me also think of the power yoga, hot yoga, hatha yoga, (not so much the yin yoga, incidentally) classes that I attend or teach, where invariably I see the same pained expressions on those people who are wishing the class would end or wondering why in the heck they came to an hour and a half of torture. I wonder why also, and this is what the runners reminded me about.

Teaching asana (postures) as a form of yoga is a very interesting thing to do. Teachers see a range of students with varying motivations, bodies, minds, and experiences. As mentioned in last week’s blog, T.K.V. Desikachar writes in The Heart of Yoga, that each student will have a unique experience of yoga because he or she comes to the yoga with a unique perspective. But because asana is a physical practice, it seems to attract a lot people who want to ‘fix’ or improve the physical aspect of themselves.

Desikachar also writes that “Yoga attempts to create a state in which we are always present - really present - in every action, in every moment.” So if we are in class, grimacing, fighting the pose, resisting and allowing our egos to make excuses, wishing were hadn’t come to class or counting the moments for it to end, we are not even doing yoga. Postures or no postures. It’s just not yoga. Conversely, by this definition, we can do yoga in any activity - even running. It simply requires us to be present, really present. . .

So what is the big holdup with the physical activity then? It occurred to me that when we engage in an intense physical activity we don’t want to be there because our motivations might not be in line with the outcome we desire. Many people wish to improve their physical appearance or fitness level because this is something highly valued in our society. Coupled with this is often a shame or guilt that we don’t quite make the cut on that level and this often creates some desperation to reach it. Compounded with even a little bit of low self esteem, anxiety, or any other unbalanced mental influence, and we can easily experience self-loathing, or fear. Or ‘hating’ our physical appearance, body, body part, etc. But the outcome we desire from ‘fixing’ ourselves is on some level, approval, health and acceptance, when we often do not approve or accept ourselves.

Why would we want to nurture and support something we don’t even like or are afraid of? Wouldn’t the experience then be quite unpleasant, even if you could pull it off? Why would you want to even do this, let alone be present in it?

If you saw an injured kitten, puppy, child (insert something you feel sweetness towards) and you rescued this little being to nurture it back to health, you would be doing this from your heart. You wouldn’t mind cleaning up the messes, staying up late for feedings or attention, and your focus would be on being caring, attentive and loving. You would achieve the task, it would be a lovely experience and you would feel good about doing it.

On the other hand, if someone forced you to care for a python, a tarantula, or even someone who harmed you or someone you love (insert something you fear or dislike), you would likely resent this task, and would be wishing you did not have to do it, even when you were doing it. You might do only the bare minimum, or not do a very good job at all. It would be a negative experience, and you would fight it all the way, complaining and resisting.

Perhaps a major impediment to working with our physical body, including attending asana class, is rooted in our motivation and our relationship with our physical body. Of course this will not apply to everyone. Many people come to class because they wish to feel better and they do ‘feel’ their way through class - being very grounded in experiencing each moment. But there are a lot of people out there who strive, grasp and invariably, get injured. And that’s a journey, a path, also, to be certain. But these people may be under the illusion they are doing yoga when they are not quite.

Lately I’ve been attending some very physically demanding asana classes. It can be challenging sometimes to focus on the breath and the asana and the beauty of the feeling of being alive, when experiencing certain levels of discomfort. But if you come to class to do yoga, you need to trust yourself, and know that the nurturing presence you bring to your practice is the only thing there is to the practice. Only then can you begin yoga.

Yoga inside and out.

2009-02-17T13:13:00.000-08:00

This morning I was sitting reading T.K.V. Desikachar’s The Heart of Yoga. There are so many gems of wisdom and poignant offerings in it that my copy is jammed with reference stickers . . . and I’m not even through the first chapter yet.

One sentence that seemed simple yet so true: “The Yoga Sutra says that each person gets different things from the same teaching based on his or her perspective. There is nothing wrong with this. This is how it is”. My interpretation of this comment by Desikachar is that the perspective of the student(s) he is referring to has to do with the life experience, background, situation, and constitution of the student(s).

Every moment of our life offers us an opportunity to learn or gain insight - to receive teaching. So then, it must be true that each person gets different things from any given experience in life, given his or her perspective. We all see life through slightly, sometimes vastly, different lenses.

As I was mulling this through, I became distracted by my cat Sam as he happily pounced into my lap, nudging my book aside. Sam has been spending a lot of time indoors these days as a result of the combination of the feline’s constitutional aversion to wet and our situation of living in a rainforest in the winter. Today was dry, with a dose of sunshine and he had just come in from an exploration of the great outdoors.

When he came in he immediately tore around the house like a creature with his tail on fire, wild eyed and puffed up, as only cats can do. After exhausting the thrill of this (and himself) he stopped at the base of my chair, meowed, gave me a wide-happy-blink and jumped up for my attention. He plopped himself on his back, four legs up in the air, threw his head back and purred. This was one joyous kitty. “Wow,” I thought, “Maybe we should all get outside more often.”

As my focus was on studying yoga, and I do teach yoga, my perspective went from “We should get outside and take a walk,” to “Hmm. I’m always suggesting that we go inwards, that we look INside. . . maybe it’s time to explore this OUTside business.” My perspective went from the physical, material exploration to the mental, metaphysical realm. This is how it is.

Turning inward, meditating, focussing on our own experience. We hear these phrases from our yoga teachers over and over. And we try. Sometimes we can actually do this stuff. But it’s always a work in progress and as we tread down this path we do it in shades, not absolutes. Like in a rainforest – very shady.

The act of turning inward, going inside often involves a process of moving from being the ‘do-er’ to becoming the observer. It’s the attempt to move away from being inside the focus of our own drama, life, the big show, to simply (though not usually easily) watching it. To use the ‘show’ analogy, we often drift through life as the star of our own TV program and everyone around us is the cast of characters - the experiences we have are all part the script. Our script, our show. Because we are inside the show, everything we experience is greatly magnified, and the drama looms large – we are the centre of the drama. And many of us get stuck in re-runs, stuck in the same experiences over and over.

The act of ‘moving inward’ through observation is in effect, moving outside the ‘box’ the TV screen to be the observer of the story. Just imagine – if you have lived your whole life inside a TV with the intensity of your drama pressing against you, how expansive it would be to step away. You would see that your TV program and your television screen are a tiny, small part of existence. Now you could live in your whole house, not just that box. And after you’ve explored the house, you could open the doors and go even further outside. Just like Sam the cat.

So then, this going inside and getting outside become the same thing. Whoa. This all of a sudden seems a bit enigmatic. Could this be yoga? In The Heart of Yoga introduction, Desikachar briefly discusses the concept of advaita, nonduality. He purports that in order to understand nonduality, we must first explore duality. The concept of advaita implies there is dvaita or duality. And. “Yoga links the two, and through this link the two become one.”

A beautiful statement Desikachar makes is “Another meaning of the word yoga is to ‘tie the strands of the mind together.’” This linking, tying, is in effect already achieved because they are the two sides of the one coin. When we pull a handful of pennies out of our pockets we know they are all pennies. The fact that some of them are flipped to heads and others are flipped to reveal tails doesn’t trick us into thinking we have two types of coins. But so often in our lives and in life-situations we see good vs. the bad or ‘us’ against ‘them’, failing to recognize the nonduality that actually exists. Yoga can give us the tools to be able to flip the coin over to see that the two sides make the one coin.

The yoga is in the act of perception. Which is something to think about. Perhaps this understanding can give us a tool to allow us to take our yoga off the mat, outside the studio and into the realm of our everyday lives. Inside and outside.