Yoga Yammer

Time

2010-07-29T10:38:00.000-06:00

For the past year, I have written about learning, feeling, and my ever evolving journey through yoga. Once again I stand at the doorway of change. I’m not one to become too nostalgic, but I find that emotion and sentiment won’t let me go today. I noticed it beginning yesterday and came to an understanding.

One year ago today I attended my first Amrit yoga class. After five years of pinball-like searching, I stopped searching. It found me, I found it, whichever statement one chooses to employ matters not, I’m still in the same place. I’m not going to revisit my beginnings, but I knew a year ago today that I was finally home. These feelings began to creep up as I drove to a class last night. I compared that first drive to the current one. I recalled those long past feelings of nerves and uncertainty of attending yet another new class, but recognized my commitment to finding what I knew was out there, so continued driving. I thought about some of the experiences I have had since that first drive. If someone would have told me a year ago that I’d find a great love for chanting or that I’d become a yoga teacher myself, I probably would have stopped the car, turned around, and never gone to that class. But I did go, I do love chanting so much, and am fully committed to learning to be a good teacher. My heart swells.

The First Time

2010-07-18T12:06:00.001-06:00

My last post indicated that I was about to teach for the first time. My brain, but more importantly my heart, has had a busy week so I haven’t committed to writing until now. I did indeed teach. I don’t mean to imply that I practiced my teaching abilities, but according to those who attended, I taught them. This is all my mind can remember of what was said.

It sounds so contradictory to say that I attended teacher training with no intention of learning to teach yoga. This is, however, the absolute truth. I went to expand upon and deepen my belief of that which I had already been taught. Once I left that beautiful home away from home, I did intend to practice and do that which was asked of me to become a teacher. For the first several weeks I worried about teaching. I feared teaching. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I surrendered to the fear and arranged a class to teach on my own. No easing into it, just diving straight in accepting that fear for what it is. I described my first experience teaching as though something within had unlocked; there was some unknown yet highly familiar place deep inside of me that opened up and somehow slide into place. I didn’t think, but felt my through it. That’s how I knew I was right where I was supposed to be and that I could no longer question if I should, could, or would. I can feel it.

A Full Heart

2010-07-12T08:44:00.002-06:00

In approximately half an hour, I will teach yoga for the first time. For weeks I have been nervous and fearful, but this morning when I woke there was a lightness inside that I cannot express. I have always known that I can only teach who I am and what I know; I have studied this yoga for a year now and have such a profound love and commitment for it. Sunday afternoon these feelings surfaced, just as I needed them. My heart is full and I want to share it with others. I will do the best I can and give all I have to give. I have faith that those who came before me will be there with me, and those who travel with me will be in my heart, smiling.

Jai Bhagwan.

Wide-ranging, Far-reaching, All-embracing.

2010-07-07T09:07:00.000-06:00

Far be it from me to believe that I have returned from my journey. While physically I appear to be back home, mentally and spiritually I feel lost. I don’t mean to say that I am somehow absent in daily life, on the contrary; I am fully present and engaged with life and truly love it. What I mean is that before leaving I had questions in my heart, questions that I could never seem to formulate properly and therefore could not attend to. Now, I find that these questions have arisen with force. There they are, right in front of me, waiting.

I have a list of things I heard and learned over the course of my 10-day training that affected me. I have been going through this list and spending the day with one topic in turn. I think about it, I think about it. I try to find my way through the maze of my thoughts and feelings. Occasionally I feel enlightenment dawn and I am able to move one step beyond, and sometimes even arrive at an answer. Most often, however, things stay as they are. I do not expect change, I simply welcome it should it arrive.

I do not wish to continue being so vague, so I will attempt to clarify a few things here. Writing it all out helps me to somehow solidify what I feel and also gives voice to it so I can read it later and learn from it without my ego telling me to stop speaking. Writing disengages my inborn ability to talk myself out of sharing. I have shared so little of my experiences with anyone, and in all honesty, I do not recall sharing specifics with anyone other than one who was in Florida with me. I have been frustrated with this for I have wanted to say what is on my mind, even if the listener does not share in my conviction of the subject at hand.

The dominant item on my list is teaching. I am scared to death of it. We tried teaching each other, my fellow trainees and I. We had a good time, giggling and making silly gestures all while helping each other through it. Now that I am removed from that loving atmosphere, the fear sets in. I love teaching others what I know; I truly find so much joy in helping others to learn. If I have a gift, I try to share it and teach it the best I can. But am I gifted with this? Do I need to be? I most definitely have a passion for it, but I question and compare myself constantly.

I remind myself of how much I love to teach cooking. I feel confidence and knowledge well up inside whenever I stand in front of someone to teach them cooking skills, but I have none of that with yoga. I have been cooking most of my life, and I draw from lifelong lessons. How is it that I believe I could possibly teach yoga a mere year after beginning this method? Here is that fear that I am somehow not good enough. It is overwhelming, but I still have the desire to do it. I cannot put a name to the desire, but I know it’s there; there is something inside that tells me I am on the right path and to stay there. What to do? I simply surrender to the fear. I allow it to come, with full force. It’s not at all pleasant to try and study a script while being afraid of its design, but if I try to hide from it, then I am choosing against the fear. Here is the crux of the yoga I study: Accepting things as they are. Accepting doesn’t mean that the fear will magically go away, it just means I accept that there is fear while I continue to give my heart to learning to teach.

2010-06-28T08:12:00.000-06:00

Time to write here while in Florida was nonexistent. I tried, but I found it was easier for me to simply let it go. Once I returned, I have needed a period of assimilating back into my daily routine. I am amazed at how open my eyes are now and what I see and feel during my day. I’ve never believed life to be mundane, but I see ever more to marvel at.

To call my time transformative is correct, but also an understatement. So much occurred, quite a bit that I have yet to reveal out loud. This is not because I do not want to share it all, but because I do not have the words to explain it.

I’ve been back for a week but somehow feel like I should turn around and be back where I was. Time doesn’t have a place. I still feel the scenery surrounding me, and I feel the people next to me. I am astounded by the energy behind the emotion.

I sit here this morning reminding myself that this was teacher training. Teacher? I am nervous. I have much to do and much to study. I wonder how I will get it all done and if I will remember what I’ve learned. My memory doesn’t seem to firing on all cylinders lately and I find it is distracting me. But, here is an edge to experiment with, and the fact I identify this as an edge gives me hope.

Day Whatever

2010-06-15T19:48:00.002-06:00

I have no idea what day it is. Someone told me we’re not even half way through the course yet. Go figure! There is so much information to process that I cannot get it from my brain to the page without garbling it. Suffice it to say that I love where I am and what I am learning. I questioned myself upon arrival, as to whether or not I belong here. I am here, and that is the only place I can be. Something led me here, and here I indeed am. And I’m happy about it! Hopefully, more tomorrow, but I make no guarantee.

Day 3

2010-06-13T16:34:00.000-06:00

As much as my mind would like to complain about it, I have to admit that today’s morning sadhana was fantastic. At times, I wanted to die so it would all stop. Then it did, as soon as I told myself to shut up. I got a little concerned with a body issue, one I’ve been working with for a while, but got over the fear of approaching the teacher, and she was helpful. Then, she told the other teacher – in front of everyone. Ok, so I had to immediately drop all fear and speak up and out so he could hear my question. I was “invited” to “show” everyone what I was talking about. I was made and object lesson, but it was lovely, fun, and hilarious. It was such a release of fear of tension to let go of such a simple question. Asking for help is a huge issue for me, and I never would have guessed I’d find the true need to let go of that fear in the position of my feet.

No time to write more!

Day 2

2010-06-12T11:36:00.000-06:00

Nobody here seems to sleep, not even the gigantic bugs that scurry across the floor at night. They don’t bite! It is hot, and this I am unaccustomed to. Practicing so early in the morning is difficult for me after a sleepless night. But, I have energy coming from somewhere.

I sat in my first session with Gurudev this morning; he is dynamic, patient, caring, and hilarious. I learned so much in those two hours, but I trust that which I need will remain in my mind. He said something that completely shattered an idea/thought that I had been reviewing in my mind for the past months, which is a good thing. He encouraged us to practice attachment. If we find ourselves attached, we are to explore it, and then determine whether or not it brings solution, and if so, embrace that attachment, just don’t demand it. This way, it comes from the Source. It took me months to get an inkling of this, and he said it all in five minutes, but I understand now. Jai Gurudev.

Day 1 - So Far

2010-06-11T11:56:00.001-06:00

I arrived after dark, so I didn't see anything until this morning. It is hot and humid, and I am not used to it. I feel like the wicked witch of the west - melting!

I have composed a mental list of things I no longer "need." Just 48 hours ago I would have said I needed these things, but I already know they are completely unnecessary and unneeded. Simplicity, the word itself, keeps popping up for me today. From my journal last night, I wrote the following: "The sweet simplicity found in a new friend's hug, my pillow, and my heart." My journey has always been about my heart, and letting it out and using it. Embracing my simplicity, and using my heart.

There is a feeling here, like a gentle hummimg; it is new, yet somehow familiar. It speaks, and it listens.

Begin Again

2010-06-08T12:15:00.000-06:00

When I began studying this method of yoga last summer, I never expected I would undergo such an evolution. As I’ve written on numerous occasions, I simply wanted to find a method of yoga that would teach me the spiritual side I knew was there. I can’t help but look back and recall what I thought would happen, what I expected. I use the word expect because I used it that day in describing my first experience with Amrit Yoga and had it echoed back at me in a manner I have never forgotten. That moment spun my idea of yoga, but it turned it upside-right. I had no idea that as I walked out of that room that day that I walked out changed.

As I prepare for this next chapter, this next journey, I feel a little apprehensive, but not too much. I am excited to learn new things as well an expanding upon that which I already know, or perhaps reveal something I already possess, but cannot yet see. I go to this training with an open mind, but more importantly, with an open heart.

I'm Ready

2010-06-03T11:05:00.002-06:00

To put it simply, I have been concerned about my level of experience going into this training next week. Sometimes it felt as though I just didn’t know enough. Each time I explain where I am going and what I am doing, I receive some sort of comment in line with “already?” This, however, has not caused doubt. I have looked deep inside myself and have been able to see that this is exactly where I should be. I finally understand that. I cannot be someone else with more experience, I can only be me with my experience, and frankly, I like who I am.

Recently, I explained to someone how I felt about this yoga method and why I stopped searching once I found it, “What was it, exactly,” she asked, that made me realize this was “the one.” Those years I practiced yoga on my own, bouncing from one class to another, there was one underlying sensation that I knew I would one day understand. I know, I’ve written about this numerous times, but each time I mention it, I understand it a little more. To my friend, I explained that when I'd practice whatever kind of yoga I happened to be investigating, it felt as though there was a shadow cast over me and I simply needed to find which direction the light was coming from and move closer to it. This is what the Amrit method has done for me; it showed me that the light was actually me, and that the answer was inside of me all the time.

Rhymes and Reasons

2010-05-30T19:40:00.000-06:00

I’ve been thinking about self-examination, or introspection. I have always been fascinated with this. By definition it is the detailed mental examination of your own thoughts and feelings. It has the power to produce a fit of giggles to say, “I’m thinking about my thoughts.” The French philosopher Descartes sums it best though, “I think, therefore, I Am.

Oddly, I began thinking about poetry. I suppose the thoughts of Descartes sent me on some sort of philosophical mend-bend so poetry was inevitable. After some stumbling down the Shakespearean portion of my memory lane, I began thinking about how school children are always told that there is not a word that rhymes with orange. Well, how does a child take such news? They giggle, they spout out a few silly words: B-orange, M-orange. Oh, you’re right; there isn’t anything that rhymes with orange! Let me pose this question then, have you ever tried to find something that rhymes with orange? Perhaps yes, perhaps no, but I have.

Here is where I insert a little investigation. First, the word rhyme is a noun and a verb. When I was a child, no one ever told me there wasn’t a word that rhymed with orange, but employing only the noun. The noun would have similarity in sound while the verb would sound similar. Dizzying and hair-splitting, but fun! Fast forward: Door hinge is the closest I can get to rhyming with orange. At least I tried.

Why would I even try, and what does this have to do with yoga? Everything, because it has something to do with me. My point is that I think about things. So why introspection today? Earlier in the day, I started thinking about where I am and what I am doing. I meant that literally; I was standing in my kitchen and I was baking. I was using facts, not metaphor or metaphysics. I started asking myself if what I was doing brings me joy, which turned into the questioning about why I like cooking and baking so much; not just the simple why’s and how’s, but trying to view, and perhaps communicate with the deeper roots. After a few moments, I realized I had stopped my current task of peeling potatoes and was standing in the kitchen thinking about why I like cooking, instead of actually cooking. Ok, more laughter. Simply put, I started thinking about myself, and more importantly, what brings me joy.

This is a question I have been mulling over for a few months now. I cannot seem to find and absolute answer. There is too much to be able to give it a definitive name – yet. Point is though I am working at it by thinking about it. I was asked this question, and I did not find the question, or the questioner, frivolous. I truly want to discover this answer. I am not afraid to look inside of myself, possibly seeing unpleasantness in the process. But then, here I am again, back at the beginning when I ask myself why that which I find is defined as unpleasant, and compared to what?

What brings me joy? This is similar to asking what makes one happy. Currently, my truthful answer is everything contributes to my happiness, the good and the bad, but only I make myself happy by simply being. Tolstoy said, “If you want to be happy, be.” Well said, but until you truly spend some time thinking about this and discover the meaning for yourself, you might never understand - I'm speaking of myeslf, of course. But, what brings me true joy; joy that I want to label as the purpose for my life? I continue to think a little more about my thoughts in hopes of finding an answer, just as I thought about what rhymes with orange. If we are always told there is no rhyme, what then is the reason?

Just Keep Swimming

2010-05-26T10:54:00.000-06:00

Still not much excitement, but plenty of nerves today. I have plenty to accomplish before my trip; still lots of reading, but I find that which I read inspiring. One book in particular has opened up new facets for me and has afforded me a connection that I really needed.

Physically, I feel a little better. I have been able to spend more time with a wider range of postures and my holding times are almost to what they were before. My only reason for mentioning this is that this little step back, and then the subsequent return, made me see first hand just how far I have come these past months. If yoga is indeed a journey, then sometimes you just need to stop the car, get out, and see where you are. However, balancing this statement, it also brought up some ego-mind issues. It wasn’t difficult to ignore those thoughts of “I should be holding longer,” but at the same time I sometimes wondered if this was also ego whispering to give in and give up. When this happened, I found I focused on my feet. I don’t know why, I just did. I have also changed my intention with each and every practice. Sometimes I had to reach for an intention and they end up being a little silly, but it helps me to focus. Then, sometimes my kidney would scream anyway.

This has been a trying week for every aspect of my practice, asanas or otherwise. There seems to be quite a bit bouncing around inside of me looking for a way out. I wish I could find a way to let go of some of this anxiety, but I accept that things are going the way they should be. I am not trying to figure out why, I just accept it. I try to find something inside of me that disagrees with this, some sort of negative or contrary feeling that tells me I truly do not accept, but I cannot find a single feeling voting against me. I accept it. This thought keeps me breathing.

Random Thoughts

2010-05-23T14:35:00.000-06:00

I have made an honest effort at writing here, but nothing seems to ever make it to the publish button. I have so much going on inside my head and heart that I can’t organize it, but there are a few things I need to write out so I have them here to read later on.

One paramount item is my forthcoming trip to the Amrit Yoga Institute. Just two and half weeks to go. Surprisingly, I haven’t really felt much excitement. I knew I was going back in February, but that was too far away to really think about planning. Then it got a little closer and a plane ticket was in order. Now, I am finally beginning to feel something brush up against me every so often that feels a little like excitement, but still wrapped in nerves.

My travel plans are made and I even have some new friends that are going to share a car with me. I guess what I was waiting for was that sinking feeling, the kind of feeling that tells me I am making a huge mistake, but no. Everything I have done so far has not only worked out exceedingly well, but I feel ever more positive that what I am doing is what needs to be done, and each time something further works out in my favor, my smile increases and so does my faith and understanding that this is not by my will.

My only concern now lies with my health. I have a situation with my kidney and it reared its demanding head this morning. But, instead of crying foul and let it get me down, I stepped forward and simply did what needed doing, knowing full well that complaining about it wouldn’t make it feel any better. I attempted a few postures this morning to see how flexible I was and whether or not I could practice through the pain. At first attempt, I just couldn’t do it – far too much pain. Later on, once I had moved my body for a few hours, I was able to stretch and my goodness did it ever feel fantastic! Yes, there was still a little pain, but my body needed me to continue. I don’t know if I can reasonably explain how I know this, I just did. I didn’t practice a set sequence, I just felt my way through some postures that felt good and left off those that hurt. That’s it; I let my body tell me where to go and what to do. I am always so surprised at how the mind disagrees with the body sometimes. I kept thinking certain postures would be painful, but on the contrary! Anuvittasana felt incredible; it was as if I could feel something poisonous flowing off my bones and out onto the floor, far away from me.

Currently, as I sit here writing, my body does not feel any better than it did this morning, but my heart does, my mind does, my soul does. I mention this situation because for the past few weeks I have felt rather lethargic about my asana practices. I felt as though I was simply meandering through them without purpose. My experience this morning has afforded me some renewed determination. Now, the bittersweet part is having to wait out the pain in my body so I can begin, once again. Everything really is a learning experience.

I Liked Her

2010-05-15T20:41:00.002-06:00

Meditation: I don’t often write about it here, not because I do not want to share my experiences, but simply because I cannot find words to describe a practice that uses no words (no, this is not the subject I have struggled lately to write about – one will know when I’ve finished that). Meditating is something for which I choose to include as part of my daily life. I could skip an asana practice completely, but not meditation. I begin and end my daily posture practices with it, then several times a week I find that I dedicate specific time for meditation; morning shortly after I wake, and oddly enough, at lunch time. I have no idea how lunch meditation started, but I find that doing so releases me from what has happened thus far in my day and calms and centers me for the remainder of the day; lunch for my soul!

When I first began attending a regular class last summer, I used to just close my eyes because that is what I was told to do. I had no idea how I was suppose to be meditating and was not even certain that I knew what it was (my teacher was instumental in, well, teaching me). You can read about it to your heart’s content, but will never truly know what it is and how it feels until you practice it for yourself. I sometimes wish I could remember when I finally realized I was indeed meditating, but only for nostalgia and perhaps so I could easily explain to others. I do recall, however, that I began to slide deeper and deeper into meditation as I sat at the opening of class, which made standing up to begin rather effortful, and standing up before class begins should not feel as though I’ve already completed a full class! Quite suddenly, something clicked and I found there was a place within my meditation where I could review my location and where I was headed – almost like a rest stop on a highway. This past week I firmly recall feeling myself becoming the floor; I felt as though I was sliding into it and spreading out like a puddle of warm water. Something spoke up and said I could not be the floor right now and needed to return body, mind, and soul to their previous state of being; my return was almost instantaneous.

This is not a daily occurrence, this becoming the floor, or the like. As with anything else I might participate in, the days will vary and so does the intensity. However, one thing that never varies is the affording peace and stillness. This is why I make the time each and every day for meditating. The past few days have been exceedingly busy and tense, so busy that asanas have been brief, but the time to center myself within a meditation is something for which I did find the time. Friday, I had forty five minutes to myself and chose to utilize the time in yoga nidra. I have always loved this and have a difficult time describing to others how it feels as well as how it makes me feel. Those in my life that have the opportunity to see me following yoga nidra can see it in my face and hear it in my voice; even my four year old niece asked me what I did to myself, which caused me to laugh.

I write here tonight because of my experience with yoga nidra yesterday. Truly, I needed a night’s worth of sleep and a day of labor to fix my thoughts enough to write it out. Even so, I am not finding the appropriate phrases to explain. When I began yesterday, I had faith that I would relax as I needed to and I would be able to let go of the strain and tension of the past day. This is why I chose this form of meditation, for its profound relaxation. What I did not expect, nor intend, was where I managed to travel during those minutes. I have written a few times here that “I” have managed to go away, but to say that this time would be redundant; truthful, but not in any way specific to what I experienced. I did not go away, what I did was meet my Self. I saw through eyes I knew where there but had not yet seen, I heard with ears that have not yet heard, and I felt with a heart that has longed to feel. I saw, I heard, I felt everything; I simply existed in that moment. I brushed shoulders with someone divine.

Comfort Food

2010-05-10T15:34:00.003-06:00

Once again I find myself on the precipice of change. My journey is about to close out one chapter and begin another. I have changed which indeed is the prime factor for ending this chapter. I have made the decision to stop going to the class I currently attend. This has been a difficult decision to make. Part of me wants to continue going and blissfully forget myself and be led by the hand, but herein lies the concern; I have grown beyond what this particular class can offer me. I am not saying that I will never attend it again, heavens no. I will simply not attend every one of them, which I have done since July of last year.

I love tomato soup something fierce. I enjoy making it, and I really enjoy eating it. I put a lot of love into that pot each and every time I make it. When available, I use fresh tomatoes from my garden, and when they’re not in abundance, i.e., wintertime, I use tomatoes I have bottled myself. I am very particular about this soup and the ingredients used. There is so much I adore about it and its creation that it’s no wonder I love it so. But, do I eat it every day? No. Well then, if I enjoy the process of creating it and thoroughly enjoy the blissful flavor, then why on earth wouldn’t I eat it every day? I don’t think I really need to type out an answer to that. Even so, I’d end up hating it and I’d become complacent about it, then one day I would find the excitement has gone and I would cease to love it. Yes, I could proceed with this and simply move on to a different favorite food to eat, but then the cycle would start anew. This would also prevent my cooking skills from growing and my discovery of new foods that might entice and nourish. I love my tomato soup and always want to love it.

This is what yoga class has become: comfort food, and I am eating it too much. I need to move beyond what can be taught to me in that hour. This sounds as though my class has somehow failed me, but haven’t I just said it is my comfort? What I need is more concentrated and I need to partake of that which is going to feed my soul, not just offer it comfort.

Something To Say

2010-05-09T13:12:00.000-06:00

Have you ever had something you’ve wanted to say, but for some inexplicable reason you could not find the right words? I chanced upon a line the other day and it said, rather simply, “The most important things are the hardest to say, because words diminish them.” This beautifully illustrates my current dilemma.

For several days, I have tried writing here. I can see the thoughts fully formed inside my mind, and I can think about them forward and backward, but each time I attempt to write it out the words get caught in my throat. I know this is a contradiction in terms as I am technically writing and not speaking, but either way the words refuse to come. I understand these words will not originate from my head and must come from my heart, but it is my heart I am attempting to write about. Understanding these thoughts of mine is somehow vital to my journey which is why I am dedicating so much time to it. I write this here today only to remind myself that I am beginning to understand and that the words will one day come. In the mean time, I breathe.

Falling Over

2010-05-04T13:26:00.000-06:00

During the past week, I’ve been unable to maintain any balance during postures. It kind of reminds me of being a beginner, only this time I’m not berating myself. At first, I tried to keep myself from falling over, find my balance within the fall. This usually works fairly well, but this time there is simply too much going on for me to be able to feel where that balance should come from. So much energy moving that I can barely stay upright. This week it has been intense. I suppose, looking back, my practices have increased exponentially in intensity, the difference being that I now can manage to keep my head about me. I don’t feel at all dislocated.

My only concern now is that I can’t feel my left side; from the tips of my toes, up to my shoulder, and then down to my fingertips, I feel nothing. I don’t mean to imply that I am numb, but my left side seems to have gone on holiday. Right side seems to be in fine form. I’ve had some experience with this before, but not this powerful and it certainly didn’t last this long and then last night, I fell out of Natarajasana and twisted the ankle I fell upon. I’ve tried a few things to help myself along, hoping that I would eventually try something that would work, but I’ve come to the conclusion that this is where I am supposed to be now, so I’m working with what I have; a right side, my mind, my soul, and my heart. All of these are working perfectly. I am too focused on what isn’t working, instead of focusing on what is.

Doubt

2010-05-03T08:07:00.001-06:00

For most of my weekend, I was in awe of what I have experienced lately. About 2 weeks ago, I experienced something while in a posture – Setu Bandhasana (Bridge pose). While this posture isn’t quite what Ushtrasana is to me, it is still one that challenges me both physically and mentally. A few posts back, I wrote of how I sat in my car after class and cried as a result of this; I was so fearful of what I had experienced. For 15 minutes I sat there telling myself that I could not have possibly felt what I felt. Essentially, I was attempting to talk myself out of the occasion. Back in January I traveled through a cataclysmic event that changed my view of everything; the emotion and resulting knowledge spun my world on its axis. It took time, patience, and serious self-examination to get through it and I was fearful of entering that again. So I cried.

What differed with this experience was that I allowed it to happen; I did not fight that wave of emotion, both during the posture and well after. I permitted the emotion to come, felt it in excess, and then let it go which has allowed me to look back without the cloudy haze of emotion and view it objectively and learn from it. While I cannot exactly write out the experience itself – there are no words for it - I can try to explain what I believe the message was. As I noted in the aforementioned post, I sat in my car that night crying but more important that anything else, I needed to believe. Was I trying to talk myself into believing? No, I simply needed to admit that I already did. Looking back at the memory of this latest experience helped me erase any vestiges of doubt; something inside allowed the rest of me to view, for just a moment, how sincerely I believe in this. I am now in the mental process of letting go of that which contributed to this doubt and this process gives me the feeling of being united, a little more balanced.

My Mat

2010-04-29T08:35:00.001-06:00

As I struggled out of bed this morning, I realized that I did not have the desire to practice. There was no spark, no passion, nothing. I felt completely empty. I had nothing to give, nothing to share. I got up anyway. I unrolled my mat anyway. I sat there on my mat. I thought about my mat as I sat there. I thought about how clean it is, how sticky it is. I thought about how I like the way it feels under my feet and how much I like the way it pushes back against my hands. My mat holds me up and refuses to let me fall, even when I do. I thought about how everything in my house has a place to be stored, but my mat’s place is out in the open for all to see; I never “put it away.” I thought about how indicative this is. Physically, my mat stays put, mentally, it travels with me everywhere I go. I can be 50 miles away while it is rolled up in a corner at home, but it’s with me nonetheless. Last night, I wanted to shred my mat into a hundred little pieces, but my mat didn’t mind. This morning, I didn’t even want to see it, but it was there, waiting. My mat has become everything. I don’t mean to imply that I covet my mat, but my mat has become the world to me. Everything I see, everything I touch, everyone I meet, everyone that holds me up and refuses to let me fall, is my mat. There is no beginning to my practices, and there is no end; it is one continuation, one journey. When I felt no desire to practice this morning, I understood that I had already begun.

Phoenix Tears

2010-04-22T12:00:00.000-06:00

At times I wonder if I am somehow passing through the yogic version of the Valley of Death, but only when truly confused. Most of the time I simply hope my confusion will see me reborn from the ashes. Last night, after class, I sat in my parked car for 15 minutes thunderstruck and sobbing. I think I may have startled some of the younger souls who attend. Even now, considering that which has already occurred and that which I have already passed through, one might think I’d be prepared for such a situation, but there are times when I just cannot find the answer inside of myself. This is what took 15 minutes to realize. I concluded that I simply needed to sit in my car, in my quiet decompression chamber and absorb, feel, sense, and most importantly, believe in what I experienced. I have given this some thought today, and I find that the intensity no longer exists, only the memory, the stillness, and of course myself, reborn and ready for the next experience.

Outside In

2010-04-21T10:53:00.001-06:00

After spending some time with my children outside last night attempting to view the meteor shower, I decided to go back out after bedtime, this time taking my mat with me. It did not intend to practice for very long as it was chilly and I was rather tired, but there was something about the glorious night air that needed to be visited. I practiced asanas for about thirty minutes, focusing on those postures currently challenging me. I was surprised, thinking in advance that the allure of the outdoors would have me in less effortful postures. But then again, maybe not at all surprised. These urges to practice do take me by surprise, but I have learned that there is often something to be gained from them, if only the recognition itself. I have so much I am contemplating with my yoga right now, and so much I feel that I can scarcely get my head around it, but when I answer this sudden need, I find it all dissolves.

I didn’t ask for nor did I expect such a glorious practice, and hesitate to label it such, but as I finished my practice with Shavasana, not at all certain if my eyes were closed or open, there was a break in my heaven and I could see the meteor shower overhead. I did not think this, I was this. I was not cold, I was not warm. I was not outside. I was not removed from space and time, I was space and time.

Smelling Roses

2010-04-20T15:30:00.001-06:00

Yesterday morning I attempted to change the appearance of my blogs. I have wanted to do this for a while, but have lacked the know-how. I decided to give it a go. Well, it didn’t go so well. Both were mighty messed up, but I managed after a few hours to get them back to where they had previously been, with only one little glitch: This blog here. I lost the last two postings. I had written out an experience I had concerning, essentially, my feelings being hurt; one situation didn’t affect me, the other did. I attempted to compare the two experiences and explain how I felt and what I learned from them because I was rather startled by the event that caused me emotional discomfort since it was in a yoga-class setting. I had thought about it all weekend and wrote up my thoughts. Although I was dissatisfied with what I had written, I posted it regardless. The following morning (yesterday) before I began messing with blog appearance, I reread my post and had some more to say on the matter. This time I was pleased because as I read my words I discovered I was learning from them. Blogging conundrum commenced.

Why do I even bother to write this? Well, it’s not to remind myself that I have no clue what I’m doing when it comes to the internet; that is fully present in my awareness! It is to remind myself that although I continue to learn to let things go and be at peace with what is, I have progressed. I do not ever seem to tell myself this. I am always working at something; asanas, meditation, following energy. I feel as though I am always climbing, climbing. But, what losing blog posts taught me is that I need to turn around at look at the scenery below and be fully aware how far I’ve traveled. I firmly believe in being fully present and giving full effort to the moment I am in, but there are roses and memories to be savored along the journey; it is not my desire for this foundation I've built to crumble. This may not make any sense whatsoever to anyone else, but it does to me, and that is what this blog is about.

Know thy Self

2010-04-10T10:43:00.002-06:00

For the past 24 hours I have been experimenting and in turn contemplating that which inhibits me. I could have offered that I contemplated my inhibitions within yoga, but as this is a way of life for me, that which inhibits me in yoga simply inhibits me. There is no dividing line.

When giving anything serious thought, I always find myself reviewing the definition of the words used; I find it supplies me with a jumping off point. It is not my intention to turn my post into a vocabulary lesson, but I feel that identifying the roots somehow helps to understand how the braches grow. Inhibition: a feeling or belief that prevents spontaneous behavior or a mental state in which behavior is stifled or obstructed. I find these last two words highly conclusive; stifled, obstructed.

I asked my husband for his personal understanding of inhibition and he found it difficult to answer. As he searched for the answer, and tried repeatedly to express his thoughts, I found one word creeping out each time he would rearrange his word order: Fear.

Is inhibition equal to fear? I have always considered inhibition that which holds me back in any given activity whether physical, mental, or spiritual. Fear can certainly be an inhibition, but is it equal to it? Fear is assuredly capable of obstructing and stifling. With my wordiness omnipresent, I found myself considering the word fear. It is both a noun and a verb. For the present, I am not too terribly concerned with the noun, but with the action involved; the verb. The verb fear literally means to be frightened of taking action. Taking this even further, the intransitive form of the verb fear means to express regret. Well, I fear I was guilty of this very thing yesterday.

Yesterday morning, as my stomach growled audibly, I apologized audibly for it happening. Why? Nobody can be held consciously responsible for a tummy grumble, yet we do it all the time. This is where the verb slides into place; a fear manifested itself as regret because someone heard my vocal stomach. So then, am I afraid of being heard? When I tell my kids to clean their rooms, I certainly intend to be heard. When I direct a question for the acquisition of assistance, I also wish to be heard. How else can I obtain the help I need if I don’t ask? Consider this though; do I fear these requests will go unanswered, thus turning the fear on its heels and being afraid of not being heard? Yes and no. I think it’s all the same; fear of being heard and having your words go unheeded.

This morning in yoga class, regardless of how much effort I gave to focusing, I could not, would not, allow myself to be heard. I am fascinated yet frustrated. The deeper I dive, and the further I travel, the more I learn about myself; the more I am Self, the more I Am. I am Self and I have no inhibitions; fear is an experience. Now that I comprehend this, I need to understand that it doesn’t matter whether or not I’m heard.

“Knowing yourself is not the same as knowing about yourself.”
~ Gurudev

Another Doorway

2010-04-07T09:37:00.000-06:00

When first beginning this journey into yoga, not even realizing it was a journey, I one day discovered that I was looking for something. I know I have mentioned this many times, but each time another piece of the proverbial puzzle slides into place, it all flashes before my eyes. I find it humorous that I began a journey without knowing the destination beforehand; that is, I was actively seeking something, but did not realize I was searching nor did I know what I was searching for, but I knew it like I know my own name.

Back in January I made the decision to attend the personal immersion at the Amrit Yoga Institute. I have been hesitant to write about it without understanding why. Once I decided I could go, getting around to the application process took me another month. I was excited and at peace with my decision, but there was still something brushing up against me that didn’t feel right. Frankly, it bugged. I applied, made my plans and bought a plane ticket, all the while feeling this funny little twinge inside of me.

The program consists of two parts, the first 10-day session being the personal immersion for which I applied to attend; learning and living the dimensions of yoga. The second 10-day session is learning to teach that to others. This is a very watered down explanation of what it really is, but what I found difficult was all of this is lumped together and titled Teacher Training. But I don’t want to be teacher, or at least that was what my mind kept saying, and what I heard my voice saying to those who asked me my intention. My heart was saying something else, but I just wouldn't listen.

My memory immediately reminds me of a particular section from the book Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix when Hermione asks Harry to teach her and other students. Harry scoffs at the idea and says no, but as he is turning them down and resolutely declining the idea, he is formulating lesson plans in his head. I find I do this, too.

Why then did I continue to tell others, but more importantly myself, that I did not wish to attend the second session and be taught to teach? I came up with all kinds of stories to validate my answers. My kids need me; my husband needs me, etc. Who would make certain such-and-such would get done, or who would do the laundry? All valid concerns, but concerns only. Everything I managed to convince myself could only be done by me, could indeed be taken care of by others, or could simply lie in wait. I tried to talk myself out of what I was feeling. Excuses.

My yoga journey has been about my heart. Learning to open it, to listen to it, to not be afraid to let others see and feel what my heart holds. Pushing my heart out in Ushtrasana was the turning point in my journey. It has been a startling realization for me to learn that my heart has so much power and so much to give. This past week, I learned even more about myself and my heart. As I have reviewed what I have learned, I found myself making connections with so many aspects of my practices. I discovered that four particular postures, all related to my heart, were causing me some concern. For the past several days I have paid special attention to these four postures, for I had a feeling there was a learning experience going on. It was during the holding of one of these postures that the doorway I was standing in came into view.

During my daily reading adventures yesterday, I came across the line “When your heart speaks, take good notes.” Well, this is something my mind could understand. Sometimes, as with Ushtrasana, the information my mind needs comes to me without effort; this time however, there was a lot of effort required for me to finally understand that I had been waiting on a doorstep long enough. This funny little twinge I spoke of, the one I had been feeling since deciding to go to the first half of teacher training, was my heart speaking. It was speaking to my mind, trying to tell me it knew best; telling me to let go of my fear. My heart told me this was only the first half of the posture and that there was a second half. I needed to complete the posture, and needed to attend the second half of teacher training. So, I am.

Sunlight

2010-04-01T20:46:00.000-06:00

Recognizing I have recently addressed this subject, I am always so surprised what chanting does to me and for me. One surprising aspect is that regardless of what is being chanted, and whether or not I am familiar with it, it manages to affect me.

Last night, during my class while in Shavasana, my teacher chanted something unfamiliar to me. I recognized individual words, but that was it. I didn’t want to become caught up in trying to retain those words or the chant itself; all this thought within the space of a few seconds. Needless to say, I felt something familiar, but not quite the same as other chants. This one got to me – all of me.

One of the most simplistic lines I have read concerning chanting said “the sound of mantra can lift the believer towards the higher self.” I have also read the line “chant as if your life depended on it” which makes me laugh hysterically because one could dissect this down to some truth as well. Being the lover of words that I am, in breaking down the Sanskrit word for mantra, I found the literal translation means “instrument of thought.” No wonder I like it!

All of these quotes describe what chanting is, or at least what it can be, but for me personally, chanting simply touches my soul unlike anything else I have ever experienced. It embraces me; enfolds me like a warm blanket on a cold night. The peace I feel is so pure; somehow not of myself or of my mind, but from somewhere else. It doesn’t matter what it is, my heart grabs hold of it, and the rest of me accepts this. There is no internal struggle; my mind surrenders to whatever the heart is doing. Last night, when the chant was complete, I opened my eyes and felt like I had been bathed in sunlight.

A Little More Effort

2010-03-29T11:57:00.000-06:00

Sunday is such a good day for reflection for me. I read over what little I have written in my journal and notebook. The past several weeks have definitely been notable, but I have not had the ability to put any of my experiences into words. Almost every time I opened my mouth to speak I found myself saying things I hadn’t intended to say. I don’t mean this in a put-my-foot-in-my-mouth kind of way, but rather I found myself using broken sentences to explain half formed thoughts. I forewent the writing process for this reason alone.

Although I have had the time to peruse my sparse notes, I am glad I didn’t until yesterday. I seemed to be in possession of some sort of altered clarity and things made a little sense. What I was able to ascertain and recognize was that I felt there was something fishy happening during three postures in particular. What I find comical is these postures are not those I normally find myself questioning.

I approached my practice last night with this in mind, hoping that I might find something to offer myself a hint as to why I would write only the names of postures down, but not the reasoning behind it. I couldn’t remember! The first posture approaches rather quickly, and all I could think was I was thinking too much while holding. This made me laugh. The other two postures are similar in nature, and again, same thoughts – you’re thinking too much. I did find that the mind was wandering a bit. While holding the last posture in question I just started to laugh, which I must say, is a little uncomfortable when my body is in such a position. I laughed anyway, and kept on laughing. My laughter stemmed from the thoughts I was having. Since I couldn’t get my mind to turn off, I decided to engage it and figure out why I could possibly write down the names of these postures and why I couldn’t get my mind to stop the chatter. Perhaps this, right here, was the reason I wrote them down. Well, almost, but not quite.

As I bent forward and my forehead touched the ground, I heard something (ego?) say “this is easy.”

Oh.

All I can assume is that sometime during my violent experiences of the past several weeks, something made me recognize that these postures had indeed become “easy.” I was no longer giving any effort. Yes, it takes a conscious effort to raise my arms up, but once the arms reached their destination, that was it. So, practice this morning had some intention for these three postures. I stood up a little more straight, which I didn’t think was possible, but found it was. I pushed my shoulders blades together a little more, and discovered that I could. There was effort now! I found that my practice went up a few notches by making such small adjustments, and the chatter box in my mind was silent.

Guess Work

2010-03-25T15:25:00.000-06:00

Making the decision to change my practices was easy; there wasn’t even a decision to be made, really. My growth has been, in a sense, not mine to control. It was inevitable that I would eventually arrive at such a revelation, and with it would come change. Working with what is, for that is all one can work with, I moved forward with the prescribed changes to my daily asana practices. Violence ensued. By violence, I mean emotionally intense.

I became confused and disoriented. Why was I doing this to myself? I asked this over and over. I truly had no clue what to do, or so I thought. I became so focused on the side effects of my practices - soreness, fatigue, dizziness, sleeplessness - that I forgot the purpose of yoga. I approached each practice with fear; fear of what would happen and how I would feel for the rest of the day. My mind took over. I had forgotten about my heart, my body, and my soul. I am not saying that I became heartless or soulless, but rather I forgot that there is a unity to all of these, and without that unity, I could not experience stillness. Duh! That’s what yoga literally means: Union.

A question arose from all of this and I knew the answer already, I just needed to remember it. I also knew, but don’t know why, that I needed to unearth the answer on my own. I wondered why I was feeling so rotten. The mechanics of my practices aside; I was well aware of the side effects that would, and did, present. The deeper and more subtle question then became the need to understand why, if Prana was so regenerative and life-giving, was I feeling so disintegrated. I read something yesterday that made me stop and think, but most importantly, made me stop and feel. Where had my stillness gone? I couldn’t find it. In that perfect moment of clarity I found my answer.

I have studied (off the mat) a little today to make certain I had a grasp of what I was feeling. There are so many others out there that could explain this better than I, but here is my feeble attempt at what I was feeling. Prana follows attention. I have heard this time and time again, but until now, have not experienced this so fully. My attention had been hijacked by my mind and by confusion, and I became so focused on how horrible I felt that Prana was inhibited. I’m only guessing, but I think it’s a pretty good one. This doesn’t mean that I’m not still sore or that I am sleeping soundly, but it means I have an understanding and can move ahead.

To and Fro

2010-03-24T19:16:00.000-06:00

Towards the end of last year, I wrote something to the effect that yoga is good for what ails me even when its yoga that ails me. I am struggling with my practices right now and feel barely tethered to my body. For the past few hours I have been crying on my husband’s shoulder trying to figure out what to do. This is when it comes to me: it’s not about me, it is about stilling my mind. My mind is not still right now and I need to return to that. I need to find that again.

Take-off

2010-03-19T22:00:00.000-06:00

I'm no longer standing still. For reasons I cannot explain - because I lack the ability, not the deisre - I will not give a decriptive account here, but I just experienced the most amazing personal practice of my yogic life. I have no words. I write this here so I can remember.

Moving, Yet Standing.

2010-03-18T13:24:00.001-06:00

My yoga practice is standing still. I don’t mean to imply that it has somehow gone stale or that I have lost interest; quite the contrary! I have so much that has built up inside of me that I constantly feel the need to do. I have an unquenched thirst for something. I suppose I could explain it like this: It’s dinner time, and you’re hungry. You haven’t eaten for hours and your body needs sustenance and renewal. You go to the cupboards. There is food a plenty, but nothing seems to make sense; you cannot figure out what will cook well with what, or you’re missing a single ingredient for something special. You spend time trying, and thinking, and plotting, but nothing you come up with seems to help, and all the while that hunger remains unanswered.

Another concern is that I feel like I don’t have permission to look in the cupboards. This is a curious feeling. Lately, I have felt as though I shouldn’t be feeling nor doing what I am with my practices, but the urge to move on is paramount and I can no longer look away. I feel like there is a silent host watching over me that is shaking its head in bemused dissatisfaction. This is, I believe, my reminder that I am holding on to a proverbial edge. This is why I feel I am at a stand still; I am holding on and until I let go of that edge, I can’t move.

I had no intention of practicing the way I did this morning, but that same silent host gave me a look I couldn’t refuse. While I didn’t let go of the edge, what I managed to do was name the edge.

Still Learning To Let Go

2010-03-15T09:53:00.001-06:00

Saturday night yoga practice might just become a ritual. Truth be told, I don’t believe it is the day of the week that matters, but the state my mind is in at the time. My asana practice that night was wonderful, even if I did fall over quite a bit in Vriksasana. Actually, it would be more expedient to say that I never found balance, but there was plenty of it for Natarajasana. This was new! I felt this glorious stretch from my extended fingertips to my toes. It was electric.

For the past week or so, I have had some curious body issues; I have had a horribly stiff left shoulder, a funky right Achilles tendon, and what I lovingly refer to as wonky knees. To say I feel weak in the knees is silly, but truthful. As a result, I have found it necessary to show my knees a little love and not bend them as much. I was worried this would affect my practices, but I needn’t have worried; I remind myself this is yoga, not a marathon. Whatever my body is prepared to do, it will do, and nothing more.

Honestly, letting go of the fact I wasn’t bending my knees as much as usual was pleasant, for I was better able to focus on some other areas. This statement alone is one of those areas. I do need telling, and often, that I need to let go. Trying to bend my knees, regardless of their current state of inflexibility could possibly cause injury, but the first few attempts at Virabhadrasana 1, I found myself pushing my knees forward despite the pain. I tried this for three or four practices then realized I needed to apply the ‘let it go’ mentality to my knees. As soon as I made this connection, and stopped making demands of my knees, other areas of my practice started to materialize within my awareness. My practices once again became what I needed, whatever that might be. Suffice it to say, I was able to finally begin to put a voice to something I have been feeling and have desperately needed to share, but have been unable to verbalize.

Letting go can be such a gift.

Chanting

2010-03-12T21:07:00.000-07:00

The past two weeks, I have been thinking about chanting quite a bit. A while back, as I was reading through journal entries, I noticed a line I had written, “I love chanting.” That’s it; that’s what I wrote. Honestly, when I began with this method of yoga, I never wanted to chant. I never wanted to be seen, I never wanted to go to class more than once a week, and certainly did not want to practice yoga at home. Things change, especially me.

My thoughts about chanting tonight began as I listened to my daughter and her friend participate in a chant of their own – girls clapping hands with each other while chanting rhymes, “Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish. . ."

Earlier this week, I was driving later at night after a very long day. Normally, I would turn on the radio and insert a CD with some sort of soothing music to keep myself calm as I drive, for I do not enjoy driving at all, especially at night. I intended to do just this, but before I ever made it out of the parking lot, I had already begun chanting. I didn’t realize I was doing it and I am intrigued by this. Usually when I chant I seem to disappear a little, so I hesitate to chant while driving, but there was clarity that night that I have never experienced. I chanted until my voice gave out, which was long before I got home, but the peace it afforded me lasted much longer.

When I discovered myself chanting in the car, I switched to the prayer that begins each asana sequence in the Amrit method. I have learned the words, and what they mean, but it has been a long time coming; I did not want to force it. Words have the potential to be powerful for me. I need to feel what something means, not just hold the knowledge inside my brain. Like learning a foreign language, I can say the words, and know what the translation is, but completely misinterpret the meaning. A few weeks ago, as I softly chanted the words of this prayer, I found that not only did I know what the words meant, but I finally felt what they meant. The emotion that arose at that moment was so overwhelming I had a difficult time standing up to begin the sequence. I believe this is why I have come to love chanting so much, because it is to be felt, for chanting cannot be understood without the heart. When I chant, regardless of what it is, I feel as though I am connected to something, even if I don’t readily know what it is.

Answering The Need

2010-03-07T14:31:00.001-07:00

The need to practice asanas sometimes arises at odd times. By odd, I mean 4:30 am. Although I am usually awake at that hour, it is not with the intent to practice, but when the need calls, I certainly answer. Saturday night, however, I could not sit still. I felt agitated and uncomfortable and I could not make sense of it.

Saturday was a pleasant day full of activity, but one thing I noticed throughout the day was my left leg did not want to stay put, and soon my right leg followed. Even in the car (I was not driving) I found my legs in lotus. The realization made me laugh, but it felt so good, I left them there. Each and every time I tried to move to what I thought was an acceptable position, once again, my left leg wandered off into some sort of contortion. I had already practiced asanas for about an hour early Saturday morning, but I let it go and I allowed my legs to do what they wanted, short of carrying me off in a direction I wasn’t destined to go.

By the time my day was winding down, and my legs had quieted, I began to feel somehow out of balance. Ordinarily, I use japa mala for such instances, and once told my teacher that it is my fool proof way to calm my mind. But, my mind was already calm; there was something else stirring within me, and my thoughts kept traveling toward postures. So, that is what I did. I began later in the evening than I ever have; it was only 9:00 pm, but if you know me personally, then this should be funny. I finished well after 10:30 pm. I really extended the holding times for some of the postures, but looking back now, I don’t think it was deliberate. Like I said, my legs just wanted to move and be moved all day, and once I was performing a posture, the feeling was so extraordinary I just couldn’t readily release. I have no idea how to explain it! I just became what I was doing, if that makes any sense at all. It did not last the entire sequence, but long enough that I noticed and long enough that it became part of my awareness. It was beautiful.

An Experience

2010-03-03T08:41:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I was emotionally spent and physically exhausted from sitting in waiting room chairs (not exactly comfortable). Suddenly, and without intention, I found myself on my feet stretching my hands up – I was in Tadasana in a hospital waiting room full of people. My arms seemed to stretch on forever; no beginning, no end. My eyes were closed, and as I opened them what I saw amazed me. My eyes immediately locked with a patient lying on a sofa. His smile was gentle and warm. I didn’t need to ask, I didn’t need to question; I knew what he was feeling. I did not know what he was thinking – I can’t read minds – but I could feel what he was feeling; not his physical pain or the trauma his ailing body was clearly suffering, but I could feel his heart. I felt all this instantly, and as I smiled back in acknowledgement of whatever had passed across the room, he closed his eyes and went back to wherever he was headed. I felt the tears in my eyes. I was in a cancer hospital and everyone seemed to have tears in their eyes, but mine were of a different variety.

My yoga practices have been very emotional lately. Each and every practice finds me with some sort of wave that manifests itself through tears. I have questioned it, and I have tried to understand it, I have not, however, tried to stop it. Long ago I accepted that this journey of mine is not under my direct control - not by my will.

I have wondered why I suddenly feel as though I am having such experiences, and wondering why they seem to happen so often – almost daily – but then I realize that my vision has been so exquisitely concentrated that I now notice that which was already there to begin with. I feel as though I have new eyes; the landscape has not changed, but I have.

My Thunderstorm

2010-03-01T10:02:00.002-07:00

My last four practices have found me focusing on the physical side of postures: Moving this foot an inch to the left, pulling the shoulders towards the head, tucking in the tailbone a little more, concentrating on the curvature of the spine, stretching the arms away from each other, etc. I have attempted to, for lack of a better word, subdue the meditative awareness I have developed. I have done thus out of a need to slow the river within me. With each practice, I have a welling of Prana, and it stays with me for days. I do not yet have the capacity to expend the excess quickly enough. I receive a down pouring; a torrent of Prana in a body that understands only a light drizzle.

These past practices, however, found me with an excess of another kind: unease. By attempting to pacify my awareness of Prana, and try to physically exhaust myself in an effort to keep levels manageable, I found that I just didn’t want to practice. This was most unexpected. There was a fight to stay rooted to my mat. I did not realize how strong the emotion was until this morning. For five years, I walked in and out of yoga classes and studios trying to find that missing thread I knew existed, but couldn’t name. Now that I know, trying to push it aside, as it were, is something I simply cannot do. It is not what I want, nor is it what I need. It makes me feel so incredibly out of balance. I have gone from merrily skipping through foothills to ascending a sheer face of rock during a thunderstorm. But, with the rain, the grass growns greener still.

Happy About It.

2010-02-25T13:15:00.000-07:00

At the beginning of my yoga journey, I had little hiccup-sized experiences that I believed rocked my core, and at the time, they did. But, the further I travel on this road, the greater in size and intensity those experiences have become. The past week has afforded me some powerful experiences of a size not only unexpected, but unrequested. A while back I wrote about the movement of Prana, and how I felt stuck; that was a hiccup compared to what I feel now. For the past several days, I have been what I can only describe as feeling dislocated, dislodged, and displaced, but I am also happy about it because I knew the equilibrium would come.

Something I remember being told a while back was that the deeper the emotion behind the experience, the greater the stillness is on the other side of it. This is where I am now; I am viewing life from the other side of my experience, and that statement is absolutely true; the stillness is not only deeper, but potent. I thought about this as I walked to my car after class last night. I recalled letting go during my morning practice, and how I again let it go during class – I just let it all wash over me. I don’t know why, I just know I couldn’t resist it any longer. At the end of class last night, during Shavasana, I went away, and felt something I cannot put into words – an unfathomable peace. I often say that I cannot put my feelings into words, and this time I truly cannot even begin to make an attempt. My heart speaks a language that my mind just doesn’t understand, but I am happy about it.

“Words may express the power of transformation, but have no power to transmit the experience of transformation.” --Yogi Amrit Desai.

Nuances

2010-02-18T10:27:00.003-07:00

My past few practices have been so incredibly revealing that I can only describe the experiences as dizzying. I have made several attempts to sit and write out the occurrences, trying to find some sort of cohesion for my thoughts and feelings, but to no avail. My personal journal suffers from mild incoherency; odd phrases tied with a few adjectives creating just enough sagacity to remind me what I have experienced.

Yesterday morning, my asana practice revealed much I needed to know; not only about myself, but questions I had in relation to my practices. Then, last night, I approached practice in class with a desperate need in my heart, and walked away with that need unfulfilled. There is something to be learned from this, and that which is inherently recognizable is my practices vary dramatically day to day, even hour to hour. The subtle shades of meaning are omnipresent.

Stuck

2010-02-15T08:50:00.000-07:00

Normally, I do not practice asanas on Sunday evenings. Although this is a quiet time within my household, the feeling has always been more conducive to meditation. Last night, however, I suddenly found myself sitting on my mat. I don’t ever recall thinking that it was something I could do with my time; it just felt like it was something I should do. Since I had already given myself over to practicing, as I began Sun Salutations, I decided I would give myself over completely to whatever feeling or design occurred. I have felt my practices changing, but have fought it, uncertain as to why. But after speaking with my teacher, and some gentle guidance, I felt like I could attempt to let go.

As I prepared for Shavasana, I briefly reviewed my practice and felt like although it was a good use of time, and it was certainly needed, nothing too terribly different occurred. Then, I tried to get up. Half way up, I felt physical pain in my spine. Even though it was painful, I knew what it was, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with physical injury. Within in a half-second, all of the information I needed was right there in my mind. I did not give myself over. I did not surrender, and it all got stuck somewhere in my spine. It hurt! It took some time to work my way through, but as I returned, I assimilated the learning experience. As a result, my practice this morning was an enlightening experience. The changes were evident.

Putting Down Roots

2010-02-01T14:35:00.000-07:00

Funny stuff, fear. My intention for my personal practices has been to let go of my fears. This sounds simplistic, but it really isn’t; sometimes, I just don’t know what I am afraid of. The funny thing is I know there is something waiting to be discovered.

I have a growing awareness of Prana, and I feel it some place new every day. Today, it was Vriksasana (Tree Pose). I have never been able to find much balance, and always assumed I was one of those individuals who would never be able to. Recently, my teacher told me it was as if I was simply waiting to fall over. That was exactly what was going on inside of me, I just didn’t know it. This is what I mean by not knowing what I fear. I try and try, and believe I am giving one hundred percent of myself, and I am, but unexpectedly discover I have a little more to give. It is like finding change under the sofa cushions; it was always there, and I always had it, I just didn’t know it. Ever since this realization, I suddenly have a little balance. I am focusing on my breathing and on sensation, instead of wondering when I am going to fall over. Tweaking the circumstances, I suppose. Today, I found that falling over wasn’t even within my awareness. This is when I discovered Prana grows on trees. It’s also when I fell over, but I really, really enjoyed the fall.

A Pebble In My Pocket

2010-01-31T15:21:00.001-07:00

My grandmother always told me that she believed mental exertion to be far more exhausting than physical exertion. I truly subscribe to this line of thinking. The experiences and resulting emotions of the past few weeks have left me exhausted. I have not been disturbed by this; I have enjoyed the growth and the knowledge that has accompanied it - a balance, of sorts. But, I currently have so much on my mind that my jaw physically hurts. I can’t figure this one out, nor do I care to; one of the body’s perplexing mysteries that I do not need to solve.

A while back, I wrote briefly and albeit cryptically, about something I was contemplating. I wrote: “I feel something deep inside my mind, which I am also feeling in my heart. It’s very subtle; only just recognizable, but I believe it’s gaining in potency. There is a feeling; a design, an initiative, and I can hear it, and I can see it. I am also very, very afraid of it. I cannot say it yet. I don’t mean to wax mysterious, but I need to give it more thought.” This thought, this feeling, is one of those things we, as people, tend to mull over when stuck in traffic, waiting in a doctor’s office, soaking in the bathtub; what if? One of those things we dream about, think about, and blissfully plant ourselves in to, but know deep down that the likelihood of fruition is minute; a daydream. Now, I find that this thought has hurled itself into my reality and therefore I am staring it down, and my jaw hurts as a result. It still scares me, and I continue to be cryptic.

Five years ago, when I began to examine yoga, I knew, somewhere, there was a place for me. I could feel this, and I had faith in it, so I continued to seek. I am not going to review everything that has happened, but suffice it to say that I am now where I could then feel I was going to be. That sounds a little philosophical, but it is how I feel. I knew then that I would someday be where I needed to be. I think this is why I occasionally feel like I have moved so quickly; I do not ever consider all the time I spent looking, reading, reviewing, and listening to others tell of their own yoga experiences. I have never regarded DVDs or books, nor all the speakers, lectures, free classes, etc., that I attended trying to find my way. I never considered the fact that my own journey had indeed already begun. I suppose I need to give myself a little credit for that. Searching for my entry into yoga was, I believe, my actual entry. After searching for so long, finding a class and a teacher that would teach me what I needed still feels rather serendipitous. Here I am, so completely and quite unexpectedly committed to a method of yoga I had not even heard of. I feel like I stumbled over it, like a pebble on the sidewalk, but instead of focusing upon the stumble, I recognized the beauty of the pebble, picked it up, and now carry it with me everywhere I go.

Incidentally, it was recently brought to my attention that I have not mentioned here what method of yoga I practice. This was not deliberate; it was simply an error, and I apologize. I study and practice Amrit Yoga.

It Just Is.

2010-01-27T11:22:00.001-07:00

I surrendered to a warrior today and found myself climbing a mountain I didn’t know was there. My practice was the best, yet worst, and everything in between; it just was. I did not know that surrendering could be that powerful, even after the events of last week. The difference, I believe, was solitude; I was alone. Looking back at my experience from last week, I find that I may have held back during the feeling portion. This time, there was no fear; I completely let go of my inhibitions, and let it all flood out. It was startling to know that I could be responsible for such emotion. I say startling, but not at all disquieting.

It has taken the entire morning to leave my practice, but upon reflection, I don’t think I have. I feel as though I have crossed over some invisible barrier that divides Me from yoga. I do not believe there is a line anymore; somehow, I can no longer differentiate between stepping on a mat, and stepping off.

Ascent

2010-01-23T12:57:00.000-07:00

As if walking from a bright light, I feel the event fading; my eyes focusing once again. Somehow, I am not the same individual walking, but once again changed. Everything feels different, and it’s welcome. The only effect I can easily verbalize is that my awareness feels heightened; I can feel Prana between my toes, and my feet are warm.

Reflecting

2010-01-21T10:25:00.000-07:00

This week has challenged me. I feel as though I have traveled a great distance, but somehow, the distance came to me. I am ever so grateful for the experience of Monday night’s class. It has taken me a few days to process it. I have not spent my time trying to understand, analyze, or ask why. Simply put, there was so much felt in such a short amount of time, it has taken me this long to absorb it. I believe this is why I felt so fragmented. Just when I think I cannot fit anymore inside of me, my capacity to learn and to feel expands leaving a vast amount of space available to fill. The wonderful part of this for me is the fact that I know it will fill. It is not empty space; it is promising space .

Yesterday morning, as I practiced my posture sequence, I realized I was truly beginning to let go. I could feel it. My decision to continue with classes was based on my need to surrender to the moment I was in, something for which I was unaware I had been resisting. This understanding has given me a more profound feeling as I have stepped onto my mat each day, which I continue to carry with me as I step away; a profound sense of peace, and an almost tangible stillness.

And So Says Plato.

2010-01-20T11:44:00.000-07:00

"Any one who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye; and he who remembers this when he sees any one whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of man has come out of the brighter light, and is unable to see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light."

-- From Plato's The Republic

Solitary Fragments

2010-01-19T08:51:00.000-07:00

Here, I write so I can remember how much I love yoga. This morning I need this reminder a little more, and in a different manner. Last night as I left class, I saw the joy on the faces of my fellow classmates, but could feel the lack thereof upon mine. I have struggled again this morning. Each pose required so much effort; there was so much discomfort and even a little pain. My mind was engaged for the effort required to stay upright, and every part of me somehow became clouded. I feel fragmented. Upon completion of my posture practice, as I opened my eyes, I felt alone for the first time. I don’t write this today to sound unhopeful or sad, which I am not; I write it simply to remember that there are days unlike the others.

Om

2010-01-17T21:07:00.000-07:00

Funny the way things happen.

This evening, I was plodding along my path: cleaning, cleaning, and even more cleaning. I found myself a little put out by the trail of destruction that appeared within my house this evening. I tried to stay calm and talk my way into the minds of those who reside within my walls, but to no avail. I became a little angry. Not the kind of angry where one would shout, but I was a little forceful with my words. Now, I do not feel guilty for telling my children exactly how I felt about their messes, and whose responsibility it is to clean them up. But, as soon as things were tidied, and my kids walked away, I found the feeling did not leave. I felt the grump begin to rise up somewhere near my heart, and it moved right into my shoulder. I could feel it! I did not want this feeling to stay with me all night. The event was over, the outcome decided; it was time to let it go.

I sat on my sofa, closed my eyes, and started to breathe. This has an instant calming effect for me, but my mind still jumped a little. I decided to use my mantra. I am not certain how many times I got it out before I noticed a shift had occurred. By shift, I mean I was no longer saying the words of the mantra. To my very great and expected surprise, I was chanting Om. I’ve done this before, but it was deliberate and consciously decided upon in advance. This time, it simply happened. I found that I didn’t think about how I sounded, but instead listened to how Om sounded. The grump moved out, and Om moved in. Now, I am left with heart and mind completely at ease. Did I find Om, or did Om find me? Doesn’t matter, the result is the same.

Surrender

2010-01-16T11:41:00.000-07:00

It is a dilemma and a conundrum I have been contemplating: do I continue attending yoga classes, or do I move along at home?

Once a week, I have, for lack of an existent word, a lesson with my teacher – the word lesson feels inadequate. This, coupled with my enthusiasm for my daily practice, has found me questioning my need to continue attending classes twice a week. Class is full of great reminders. It is full of peace, not to mention people. I enjoy practicing with others; it inspires a completely different feeling, and I enjoy that. But, is that which it accomplishes greater than that which I need?

Just when I think I don’t know the answer to this, I realize I already have the answer I need: Let it go. Just let it go. Stop over-thinking. I thought about this, talked it out with my husband last night, and still felt as if I would no longer attend when my current pass expires. Then, this morning I read something that stopped me dead in my proverbial tracks. The subject matter wasn’t important, one word was all I needed; my favorite word: Surrender. Some may think that surrender means to give up, but it doesn’t; it means to give over, to yield, to relinquish control. This word is direct, yet somehow powerful in its subtlety, and it shouted at me this morning. With that one word I was instantly able to recognize my unconscious need to control my outcome in class.

I have worried about moving too quickly, and worried that I am going to crash or somehow find that I can no longer carry on at the pace I am moving. I have worried that . . .

Clearly, I need to surrender to the moment I am in.

Let go.

Surrender.

Time Well Spent

2010-01-13T10:47:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I found myself in possession of time that I could not fill with my regular routine. Due to a slight mishap and the resulting sore body, I skipped my daily posture sequence. I do not believe this means I did not practice yoga; I just didn’t unroll my mat for it. It felt right to use that time to practice in a manner my body could tolerate, so I concentrated on Pranayama.

There has been a growing connection between breath and the rest of me – body, mind, heart, and soul. I feel it each time I practice; whether that practice be postures or otherwise. After I plummeted down the stairs Monday night, I found myself concentrating on my breathing, and nothing else; this had an instant calming effect. Later, as I attempted to sleep, breath again was there to calm my sore body. I no longer have faith that this will work; I know.

I have been trying to get the hang of a particular breathing technique, and believe this time I spent yesterday helped. I focused and concentrated, and think I finally can do it. I also spent some time chanting. I have a hard time chanting in front of others. I am trying to become comfortable hearing myself chant; to drop out of my ego and just feel it. I know I am capable; I hear myself as I count the mantra I use, and am so astonished at how I feel. So again, I just know I can. It’s a little like walking in a dark room, searching for the light switch. You know the switch is there and you have the ability to find it. You just need to reach out and create that light.

I find that I am grateful for my tumble. I have needed to spend some time focusing, and found that the time was given to me; perhaps not in the manner of my choosing, but given nonetheless.

Speed Limit

2010-01-11T10:23:00.001-07:00

There are a few items concerning my practice of yoga that I have been remiss to speak of. That is, there are some things, two in particular, that hold me back, and I am startlingly aware of them both – I fear them. One of these fears, however, I believe I now understand.

This morning, as I began my daily posture practice, I found myself letting go of my body. So far, I have used breath as an indicator for holding times; that is, I count each inhalation and release when I arrive at a particular number. Sometimes, I go ahead and hold a little longer, but I am usually in the ball park. Today however, I found myself just doing. This was not a conscious effort, it just happened. Once I noticed, I let go of everything I possibly could, even counting, and allowed my body to release on its own. Now, this did not continue for each posture throughout my entire practice, but it was a majority. There are postures I must focus on for alignment and therefore require the use of my brain, so here I found I counted, but upon release, I let go again. I am startled to find this happening. This is one of those things I fear; I have, up to now, feared that I am moving too quickly.

I have mentioned this in passing to others, but I don’t think I have put quite enough conviction into what I was saying, and this was deliberate. Honestly, I wasn’t ready for anyone to know how afraid I am of this. How, I ask myself, is it possible that you can feel like this already? Shouldn’t you be here, or here, but not where you are? I’ve always been a quick learner, but I have never leapt across a universe, and with such few steps.

When I first began my practicing, I wanted to devour everything I could read, hear, and feel concerning yoga. I found that I really, really enjoyed it and wanted to learn all I could. I felt like an addict; I wanted more and more. In an attempt to slow things down, I stopped reading and simply attended class, but found myself, quite unintentionally, reading anyway. Eventually, I found balance and focus, and decided upon one method of yoga to study. However, I still found the desire to learn infectious. My studying now focuses on a few items instead of a dozen, but I find that my practice still increases exponentially.

This morning, standing in my kitchen making the customary Monday morning muffins, I had on my head phones, listening to something that I am attempting to learn for my daily posture practice. I had to laugh at myself, for my two passions seemed to have met this morning (cooking and yoga). I thought about how ridiculous this might appear if someone were to see, but then suddenly found it didn’t matter, for this is my experience.

Upon completion of my astonishing practice this morning, I stepped from my mat and looked up into my kitchen. I wish someone could have seen my face, for I can only imagine what it must have said. I thought about this fear of mine, and how I was in the kitchen a few hours before cooking with yoga plugged into my ears, when it hit me: Let it go; you are exactly where you are. I finally understand what that means. I also now understand that I am not afraid of moving too quickly, but rather, I am afraid of standing out; of somehow being extraordinary.

Bubbles

2010-01-08T21:38:00.001-07:00

Just when I believe I cannot possibly find room for more peace, indeed more finds me. Something inside of me seemingly expands, allowing more to pour in. Maybe I have something pouring out, thus leaving me space to grow. I don’t care to know the answer to that one; I’ll take it for what it is. I am grateful for this feeling; to know what it is and how it feels to be at peace inside of myself. It affects the way I look at everything. Somehow, every breath is a promise - I can’t help but smile.

In an attempt to explain this to my husband, I told him to imagine himself inside of an iridescent bubble; not like a cage or an escape, but a sanctuary. Sometimes the bubble shrinks and then expands once again. Sometimes it pops altogether. Then, willingly and willfully you learn how to expand that bubble. You appreciate that you can still see the world from within your bubble. You can still feel everything, hear everything, smell everything, and taste everything. You have not gone into the bubble, but the bubble has encompassed you, welcoming you within. You learn to feel more, to love more, and to enjoy more. Then, suddenly, when you believe the bubble could not possibly become greater, the bubble finds the room, and continues to grow, enveloping everything and everyone you encounter. My bubble is yoga.

Given Much

2010-01-07T09:39:00.000-07:00

This may not make any sense to anyone other than me today. I want to remember this one.

It is feeling cold that I am thinking about this morning, but the emotional variety. I often write about my difficulty with showing emotion. It’s not that I don’t feel emotion; I do, and a lot of it. I find that I simply cannot command my emotion to surface. I sometimes think that I must appear so cold and unaffected. For me, showing emotion has always been linked to my grasp of words. I’m not a master of words, I just like them. Words have always been available to me. I express how I feel and what I feel through words. But sometimes, once in a great while, I am so affected by an event that my words disappear. My mind goes blank, and I am rendered speechless. My words leave, and all I am left with is my heart; a body full of raw emotion for which the mind has little experience.

This and more I thought about as I walked to my car after class last night. Sitting there in the cold, my raw emotion showered from my eyes as I held what I needed in the palm of my hand. I felt warmth, joy, love, peace, Prana, mantra – all of it, all at once.

Namasté

Conjecture

2010-01-06T09:29:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, my mind will not let me go. I sat on my mat this morning for a very long time before beginning, in an attempt to calm things a bit. My mind raced. Looking back, I now have no idea what it was I was thinking about. It still requires effort to quiet my mind as I begin Sun Salutations. It has improved, but today was a little different; I realized this as my arms began to shake. I was holding in the plank position of the Sun Salutation, and again, my mind started to chatter. I attempted to focus on breathing, but geesh, it was loud! Then, I noticed my arms. I suddenly realized I had been in the position for a very, very long time. I was so focused on getting my mind to quiet, that I forgot about my body. My arms were rather tired by then. Needless to say, I finished that round a little quickly. Upon completion, I assumed that this practice was going to be a battle between mind and body. I am happy to report that I jumped to a conclusion.

My mind raced, and I breathed. Soon, all I was doing was breathing. Sometimes, I get wrapped up in breathing. I let my body go, and just felt my way through the postures. I had one of those amazing experiences again, but this time, quite surprisingly, it was in a balance posture. This teaches me that I need to stop assuming which direction my practice will lead me.

Why?

2010-01-04T14:03:00.000-07:00

Why do I keep a yoga blog? This question has been flung at me so many times I cannot count the requests. Here is my haphazard explanation.

I find myself evolving so rapidly, that sometimes it is a strain to remember everything I experience. I do indeed write most of it down in a journal, and those thoughts I do consider quite personal. My journal is where I expand on what I have experienced with specific information and feelings. I want to share this, I truly do, but I do not want to confuse anyone. Like I said, it’s all very specific and someone who doesn’t practice might begin to glaze over a bit – my husband certainly does! Here, however, I try to verbalize some of those experiences in terms I think others will understand. Sometimes I fail miserably! Often, the day after posting, I will read what I wrote and say aloud, “That’s not what I meant!” I believe myself to be so clear at times, but a few hours later, it’s all incoherent nonsense. But this is all good, for it shows me what is truly important, and what I need to be focusing on.

Then, there are those amazing experiences that I cannot find words for, that stump me for a decent retelling. These are the times I wish I had a silver tongue, and could express myself with eloquence. Even so, I try my best to write it out so I can remember enough to spark the memory. Also, there is the simple fact that aside from my teacher, I don’t know anyone else that practices this method of yoga. For the sake of my progress, I must share what I feel and what I experience. I can’t hold it in - I feel like I’ll explode! Sometimes it may make a little sense, other times I might appear to have lost my marbles.

There are those particular items that I recognize as challenges, such as Ushtrasana, and it does my heart some good to go back and read what I was feeling. This posture made me crazy in the beginning, and I like to read about how much my attitude towards it has changed; I still don’t enjoy it, but it doesn’t scare me so much anymore. I don’t know how long it would have taken me to recognize this if I hadn’t written it all out.

I also feel this is a private way for some to look inside my head without feeling awkward about asking me. Perhaps someone in my life is curious, or might see me sitting in my car chanting my mantra, and wonder what the heck I’m up to. Welcome, but please, ask me!

All of this is part of the parcel for keeping this blog. It helps me feel, it helps me write; it helps me remember what I have learned and what I might currently be studying, but mostly, it allows me to share my new found love of yoga.

Can't Not

2010-01-03T19:42:00.000-07:00

I read somewhere, and have no clue where anymore, that an individual should practice asanas six days a week, thus allowing for a day of rest. I suppose I must have absorbed this information, for I have found myself following this recommendation. However, a disparaging thing seems to happen on the days I do not practice, which so far, has been Sunday. I get fidgety, or in yogic terms, I become unstill. So very unstill. I wanted to break away from the feeling, but knew that breaking away, in a sense, was the wrong initiative to take. I also knew that asanas were not a possibility at the particular moment I realized this. My lack of stillness did, however, give me pause to think about not practicing. I can’t not practice anymore (oh, that negation sends the wrong kind of shiver up the spine). Practicing, in some form or another, each day, is something I simply must do. Daily practice is not obligatory, just necessary; it is not compulsory, but rather compelled by a higher power - a higher power that I met today as I led myself into stillness.

Heart. Felt.

2010-01-01T18:35:00.003-07:00

Shortly after beginning yoga class this past summer, I was very aware of what my heart was doing. I noticed how fast it beat upon completion of the class, and how quickly it sped up during certain postures. Eventually, my awareness of my beating heart fell away, and I began to learn and become aware of prana. Now, I find the two have met somewhere in my awareness. For the past few weeks, I have been, once again, noticing my heat beating as I practice postures, but this time, I feel it in conjunction with prana. The difference is, however, that my heart is no longer speeding up, it is simply beating stronger. There are postures that seem to affect more than others, and I find it all fascinating. I keep saying this word: fascinating.

I am sitting on the heels of completing a practice this evening, but it went a different direction that I had intended. I had the opportunity to learn a little more about pranayama today. I tried to begin a sequence practice, but found myself practicing breathing instead. Before I knew it, I was completely absorbed in what I was doing. Then, I noticed my heart. Maybe it was because I had been thinking about it earlier, maybe not; either way, I noticed my heart beating stronger, while simply sitting upon the floor. I know that breathing has a direct affect upon how my body reacts to any given situation. I’ve been told this, and I have experienced it, but this was truly my first self-realized experience outside of a posture practice. Instead of focusing and directing my breathing to stay in a posture, this time my body reacted because of the breathing. I hope that makes sense to others out there – it makes sense to me.

Then, to my very great surprise, my body wanted to be in Ushtrasana. Now, I admit to trying to talk myself out of this, but eventually there was a compromise, and I went through a modified practice and led up to it. For me, Ushtrasana is directly related to my heart – it is my heart posture (read here to understand), and it is also my least favorite of them all. I used to think this posture was going to be my downfall, but now I’m no so sure. At any rate, thank you Heart for the experience today.

Thoughts

2009-12-31T21:21:00.000-07:00

I suppose I would be remiss not to write something here tonight. I’m not a big party animal, so it’s a quiet evening at home. I wrote on my other blog today about a few things that stood out in my memory concerning my year, and how it has unfolded.

To paraphrase that which I wrote earlier today, I feel as though I have always been practicing yoga. I find myself surprised when I answer someone’s question as to how long I have been practicing; it is surreal to think it has only been a short six months. It only took one class, and I knew it was where I was supposed to be. Each time I learn something it feels as though I am not really learning, but simply remembering something I already knew.

There are, of course, events along the way that creep up, and experiences that take me completely unawares – like today. I won’t go into detail; not because I won’t share, but simply because I don’t know how this time.

I am not one to make resolutions for a new year; what I am is a thinker, and feeler, a doer. I believe that life is to be enjoyed, and enjoyed in the moment we are currently in; therefore, resolutions have no home with me. “Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but rather a manner of traveling.”

Onward…

Prana

2009-12-29T09:35:00.000-07:00

After class last night, there was so much energy moving through me that I felt if someone else were to grasp my arm, they would feel it. Somehow, I felt electric. I concentrated on what I was feeling, and where it was moving. It stayed with me all night. I almost didn’t want to fall asleep – almost.

More Change

2009-12-28T17:12:00.000-07:00

I have been feeling a little off kilter the past few days. I have, nevertheless, been practicing each day. Usually I do not go through a full practice on Sunday unless I just can’t stand it, which was the case this week. With kids out of school, there is not a lot of peace and quiet to be had, so when a nice and quiet Sunday morning arrived, with the household still sleeping, I couldn’t seem to begin fast enough! I find it incredibly fascinating that I am drawn to a practice even when I am feeling unwell. My practice Sunday morning was particularly revealing, too.

I noticed many things that had slipped by unnoticed. I suppose the most noticeable should be that my body has changed. Most women I know would be skipping around and shouting for joy, but it’s a much different feeling than a simple change in weight (which I am uncertain of anyway as I don’t own a scale – personal quirk). I know I am changing physically; I seem to swim inside my clothing and my wedding ring falls off my finger. I curve a little more than I used to in places I didn’t know I could. Ok, I know that was a little revealing, but I share it to point out how it has taken me be surprise. I didn’t approach yoga as a means to loose weight, or to tone or shape. This is simply a bonus to everything else.

I also believe I have figured out why I have been feeling so "off," but it is going to take some thought to put it into words. Another story for another day.

Evolution

2009-12-18T13:43:00.000-07:00

I previously described myself as having been changed by practicing yoga, but eventually shifted my narrative to say that I am not changing, but evolving. My Evolution. It is a mind boggling thing to think of myself as evolving. I review all I’ve learned today, and know that tomorrow it will have been assimilated, and be part of me. I will no longer be the person sitting here, but someone new once more. I begin a practice as one person, but step away another, each and every time.

Weeble-Wobble Warrior

2009-12-16T10:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I began my daily practice much earlier than usual. I was curious to see how my body would react to yoga three hours earlier. I am in absolute love with the early hours of the day; there is so much peace and promise. My practice, however, did not hold much peace.

Practicing at home, on my own, is something for which I am still attempting to acclimate myself. I get this powerful urge to quit just as I begin Sun Salutation, and lasts for however long I continue with the pose. I find it humorous that it still creeps up, since my ego should know by now that I am not going to quit. As soon as I move into the next posture, the feeling is gone. This feeling did return yesterday as soon as I got to Warrior 1. I kept falling over! At first, I blamed the morning hours, and then blamed my inability to stay upright. Then, I realized there was no blame to be placed, and started concentrating on breathing again. Funny, it works every time!

After Warrior postures, I found myself rushing through balance postures. I wouldn’t have realized it had I not glanced at the clock, which I try not to do. I backpedaled, and made myself do them again, this time focusing on what I was doing. This same thing kept happening over and over throughout this practice. I can’t help but wonder why. After going through several groups of postures twice, I was exhausted. Happily, this did not affect my day in any way. I find that I would rather fall over in Warrior 1 than not do it at all.

Quiet and Warm

2009-12-15T06:14:00.000-07:00

Loving how quickly I can find stillness in Savasana now. Last night, I found myself not wanting to sit up. At first, I thought perhaps I was making it up, or had fallen asleep, but no; I could still hear the people near me, and was very aware of the sounds surrounding me. There was such quiet inside of me – probably the most substantial stillness I have experienced thus far. It was warm and inviting, and I really appreciate warmth.

Peaceful

2009-12-13T06:31:00.000-07:00

This morning, I woke up early, even for me. The house was quiet - so quiet I could hear my children breathing across the hallway (and I don’t hear well). The peace was almost tangible; it was as though I could reach out and scoop it up in my hand like soap bubbles. I absorbed it all.

New Heights

2009-12-10T10:07:00.000-07:00

Shaking all over after each practice – weird, and highly entertaining. This morning I looked like a caffeinated Frankenstein because I got my foot stuck lunging in Sun Salutation and twisted my ankle, therefore, I was wobbling as well as shaking.

This is the fourth day in a row I have practiced at home with a full sequence. I have been practicing on my own for several months, but it was a gradual building up and still nowhere near what I am accomplishing now.

I am amazed at the amount of time I take each day. One day I finished in an hour, today it took 90 minutes. I do not deliberately take more or less time; I let go of everything, especially time. I absolutely have to do this, or I would never make it to my mat each morning. The only intention I have with my daily practice is the time I actually begin – as soon as I return from taking my daughter to school. The house is quiet, and I need as few distractions as possible.

Another notable occurrence is my state of mind for the remainder of the day. I have had some incredible experiences in my life, but this week has certainly been incredible in the “normal” sense. What I mean is I haven’t won a lottery, or purchased a new car, or even got a new hair cut – nothing that really stands out as a huge event. This week has been like all my other weeks, but my perception of it all has changed. Nothing seems mundane, not even mopping the floor, which I just did. There is such a heightened sense of purpose that follows me throughout the days I begin with yoga.

I Did It!

2009-12-07T10:19:00.001-07:00

This past weekend, it was my intention to get up this morning and complete a full asana sequence on my own. I have only done this once before, but I was being guided. There were all kinds of internal struggles this morning when I got up. It was snowing, so there was a sidewalk to be shoveled, there were kids to get ready for school, breakfast to prepare, clothes to be folded, etc. I stopped dead in my tracks at 5:50 am and closed my eyes and asked, ever so gently, for my ego to be still this morning. I needed to do this.

As I unrolled my mat, I heard some excuses fire off, but they were quickly extinguished. I sat and breathed for a few minutes, and then heard my dryer tell me it was time to get up and fold towels. I let it go.

I began the sequence. I had to peek a few times at my chart to remember what to do next. I thought I could remember, but I am glad I thought to lay it on the floor in front of me; I needed it four times.

At first, I was overwhelmed by thoughts of whether or not I could remember everything I needed to do – like breathe. Each time I began to worry, I breathed deeper and longer, and let it go. I remember that it didn’t matter, and that I could not fail. As I progressed, my mind moved further away; far enough that I could proceed.

A few surprising things happened along the way, and I need to write them out so I can remember. First, in Warrior 1, I felt so much energy; it felt like there was a bowling ball slowly rolling up my left leg. I paused there, in the pose, for a few seconds longer just to feel. I need to remember this. When I am in a class, I move at the pace the teacher sets, and do not often have the time for an experience such as this, or rather, time to just be in the pose and feel it.

I know exactly where it comes, and I knew it was coming – the Camel pose. Coming out of this today, I fell forward onto my hands. I quickly reminded myself that I was doing, not failing. I have decided that I am being too negative about this pose. I need to view this pose differently, and I need to learn to be comfortable performing this pose, not necessarily comfortable in this pose. I have decided to commit the Sanskrit name, Ushtrasana, to memory, so I can view it with new eyes. My mind and ego are so turned off to hearing “camel.”

In seated forward bend (Paschimottanasana) I heard a funny little voice tell me I was being a chicken. It was funny because I have no clue where it came from, but at that moment, I realized I was holding on to every muscle. I slowly, and I mean slowly, began to release my muscles, concentrating on my hips and legs. As I did, there was so much energy moving through me, I felt instantly nauseas. I probably stayed in that pose longer that necessary, but I really didn’t want to throw up! I breathed my way through it. I love breathing!

As I finished, I felt so many different emotions. I don’t know if pride is a good term or not, but I did it – I went all the way through on my own, and I am proud of myself. Not because I went through the postures, not because I noted some amazing things, but simply because I know that I am capable.

A Chink In My Armor

2009-12-03T13:03:00.005-07:00

“When you fight your weakness, you feed it.”

I read this a few weeks ago, and have since carried it in the forefront of my thoughts, and have it written where I can see it each day. My greatest weakness is fear, or more specifically, not showing emotion. This quote is a good reminder that I am doing myself a disservice by continually allowing my fears to hold me back. It’s not at all easy, but I have recently discovered that just being aware of it can help me.

For several months, I have complained about how much I dislike the Camel pose. I have yet to attempt it on my own during my home practice, and each time I hear it announced in class, a little part of me quivers, and that quivering part proceeds to run and hide. Thus far, I have accepted the Camel pose as my Achilles' heel. Last night during this particular pose, it hit me like thunder. It was like someone opened up my head and dropped the information right where it needed to be, for I was not consciously seeking an answer for a question I hadn’t even asked. I was concentrating on the instructions and moving where I knew I could go, but no further. Then, we were instructed to stretch the chest and lift it up, essentially stretching the front of the body, not arching the back. This is where it came to me: this pose pushes my heart right out in front, exposed and unprotected by the rest of my body; a sitting duck. That was it; little old me, who struggles to show emotion, and safeguards her heart, was afraid of this pose because it did exactly opposite of what I have always done. This doesn’t mean I am magically going to love Camel pose now, but I believe it reiterates the opening quote by telling me I need to stop feeding my fear.

A Feeling

2009-12-01T20:03:00.000-07:00

I am starting to feel. A little of this, a little of that.

I feel changes; not daily, but what I do feel is worth noticing. I sleep. For 36 years I have been one to fight sleep; that is, I couldn’t fall asleep without at least an hour of struggle. My mind would race, and I would watch the scenes it provided. Now, a few short months after beginning yoga, I fall asleep with almost no effort. I say this with such thrill! I feel so good as a result. There it is again – I feel.

I feel love. Not necessarily from others, but coming from within myself. It bubbles up when I least expect it. I read this today, “If we don't stop and become present to Love, then Love isn't present in our awareness, and that which isn't present in our awareness isn't real to us in the present moment.” A part of me understands this, and the part that doesn’t understand, wants to.

I feel my feet! My feet only mildly disappeared last night during class and then not at all this morning. I really like the feeling of my feet on the ground. It helps me feel strong.

I feel commitment. Commitment comes in many shapes and sizes. I am committed to my husband; heart, mind, body, soul. I am committed to being a good mother to my children. I am committed to being a friendly neighbor. I am committed to helping my sisters even if they cannot always help me in return. I am not so committed to the PTA, and also not too terribly committed to my piano practicing. While this may cause laughter, I use it to illustrate the levels of commitment present in my life. I realized today that I am, quite unexpectedly, committed to yoga.

There is one other thing that I am feeling, which is the point of this post tonight. I feel something deep inside my mind, which I am also feeling in my heart. It’s very subtle; only just recognizable, but I believe it’s gaining in potency. There is a feeling; a design, an initiative, and I can hear it, and I can see it. I am also very, very afraid of it. I cannot say it yet. I don’t mean to wax mysterious, but I need to give it more thought. It would require commitment, love, strong feet, and a good night’s sleep.

Let It Go

2009-11-30T09:12:00.001-07:00

I wrote a nice long post about how I lost the feeling in my feet. I posted it, then got up the next morning, noticed a grammatical error, so I logged in to fix it, and inadvertently deleted the entire post! It took me an hour to type it out, too. I have let that one go completely. I don’t know if anyone even read it, but it’s ok. I wrote about it, like most things here, just so I could let it out. I have a tendency to store up all my emotion.

This leads me to this statement, which I really, really love: “Breathe. Relax. Let go.” For me, this applies to so many aspects of yoga, but I am going to address each item literally.

Breathing: According to no one but myself, I experienced a horrible week. As a result, I let everything build up inside me, and took it all to class with me on Saturday where I completely forgot to breathe. By the time class was over, I was so grouchy I couldn’t see straight. I have silently asked the others in class that day for forgiveness for my shifty glances. I realized later that day how important breathing really is. Until now, I’ve enjoyed the effects, but not until Saturday did I realize what it has the power to achieve. I am grateful for the experience. Like I mentioned the other week, you can talk and talk about transformation, but you need to experience for yourself to truly understand.

Relaxing: So far, I am not sure what to do with this one. I know what the word means, so I currently take it at face value. For me, now, it means feeling stress, recognizing it, and utilizing my knowledge to relax into whatever I may be experiencing. Case in point: Thanksgiving day (which I wrote about in the post I deleted), I could feel the overwhelming surge of stress approaching, so I stepped away to a quiet room, and sat with my eyes closed for 20 minutes, just listening to my breathing. It was amazing. The ability to relax is also crucial for the next step of letting go.

Letting Go: This is where I struggle. I am so precise about everything I do; just look at my opening statement! I had to fix a grammar error, and ended up deleting my entire post – I couldn’t let it go! Did it really matter if someone somewhere read that little grammar hiccup? Would they judge me for it, and if so, how would I even know, and why should it even bother me? I forgive others for mistakes, but rarely myself. I do this all the time with many, many things, and I let the emotion of it all build and build. It is a vicious cycle.

Breathe. Relax. Let Go. I don’t have a mantra yet, but I am beginning to think this might be a good statement to keep in mind for the interim.

Paradigm Shift

2009-11-24T11:54:00.001-07:00

Several months ago, as I began yoga, I craved that stillness that accompanied me through the class. As a result, I was immensely bothered by the lack of quiet in everyday things, and attempted to make still everything I could. One item in particular stands out, but I won’t bother with details. Looking back, I justified my decision to cease certain activities in the name of stillness. Now, I recognize it as fear. I didn’t believe I had to ability to find stillness on my own, and therefore had to physically remove the disquiet, fearful I could not achieve it on my own. I believed this was stillness. During the past few days, I have come to realize this was only less noise, not stillness. I am now without the ability to express myself accurately, but only because I believe I finally understand what stillness is, and it cannot be described; it must be experienced. It’s an emotion and a sensation; an inborn feeling that I cannot verbalize. It is still.

Missing Words

2009-11-21T16:49:00.000-07:00

“Words may express the power of transformation, but have no power to transmit the experience of transformation.” --Yogi Desai

Rather serendipitous I read this gem, because I cannot find my own words. I have delved into my store of knowledge, and the dictionary; combed what feels like the lexis of English, and still cannot convey what the past few days of yoga have done for me, and to me. Perhaps another would feel the exact way, but their choice of words would convey a completely different experience.

I went through a full sequence of asanas for the first time. I didn’t think I’d make it – before I began. Once I had begun, I departed. The closest I can come to an explanation is that it was tantamount to finding a missing thread for something I have been creating. Not a found piece to a puzzle - not a hole to be filled, but rather something that weaves through me, enhancing that which was already there.

Go with the Flow

2009-11-19T10:19:00.000-07:00

Overwhelming urge to laugh out loud during Tadasana last night. Oh, it felt so good! By good, I mean no pain, no pulling, no tight muscles, and a quiet, quiet mind. My body was just happy to be there, and that felt good. Sure, the usual things to work with were still present – I don’t expect, nor desire miraculous overnight transformations.

I went to class with the intent of being aware of the energy flowing through my body. I thought about this earlier in the day. As a beginner, I have been fussed about getting into the pose and correcting my posture, but I haven’t given too much effort to holding the pose while paying attention to whatever I might be experiencing. Once in a while I would notice something particular, but it had to shout pretty loud for me to notice. So, I thought I would really listen last night, but not just to the proclamations my body might be making, but to the entire flow of energy. I am delighted with how still my mind became while doing this – if it can even be called “doing.” It was a nice experience, but also very personal, so I don’t think I’ll give details here. Suffice it to say, at one point, I think all my energy flowed into my right ankle at the same time and it felt as though it would explode! That was interesting, for certain.

Almost, But Not Quite

2009-11-13T16:12:00.002-07:00

Yes, I love yoga, and yes I am becoming more and more dedicated to a practice, but there is one key factor I have been missing. Well, not missing exactly; it has been there, but I’ve been too scared to pick it up and run with it.

Read my introduction if you want the whole story, but the short version is that I have been dancing around the idea of yoga for five or so years. I have felt it, and I have noticed it, and I have been taken completely unaware by it at times, but still I resisted.

Now, here I am. I thirst for the knowledge, and this is appropriate for who I am, my upbringing and education process. I have been taught to research, gain insight, and cover all the bases before making a decision. This has worked well in the past, but I find with yoga, it seems to trip me up a little too often. With my desire to learn all I can about the mental and spiritual side to yoga, I have devoured what books and information I can find. Herein lies the problem: I have been bouncing around from one method of yoga to another in my quest for knowledge. While these particular methods I have read about appear to have great ideas, and some passionate teachers and students, I have been unconsciously resisting the method that I am being taught and the one I am practicing.

I read a short story about a woman and her decision to study one particular method of yoga. This little story, which was intended to be a humorous and light read, brought to the conscious part of my thoughts how much I have been missing because I was too busy looking elsewhere for that which was already there. We’ve all heard it before, “It was right in front of me the whole time.”

So, I have returned the books to their appropriate libraries, and intend to devote my thirst for yogic knowledge to one method. I am constantly telling my children that I cannot be in two places at once, and so the same goes for yoga. I think I have been too scared to admit that I can do this, that I have the potential to shine and be noticed, and too scared that right when I came to yoga, it had been there the whole time.

There Was Light

2009-11-12T09:01:00.000-07:00

Why doesn’t everybody do yoga? This is a perplexing question! I’ve only been doing this for about 5 months, and already feel such a difference, and have such fantastic internal experiences, I can’t help but wonder why more people don’t practice.

I’ve been focusing on Savasana a little more lately. I want to be able to have that moment of meditation, and not a moment to just lie on the floor (I can do that later!). I have tried a few things, especially breathing, to help my focus.

Last night, my knees were really bothering me, so I gave them a little love and didn’t push too far. This was a good call, because today I can still walk! As a result of not pushing my body, I focused more on holding and breathing. The results were surprising. I noticed so many little details about holding poses, that I have compiled quite a list of questions for my teacher now (sorry dear teacher!). I noticed places in my body that were tensing up, and little twitching muscles, as well as what I was physically focusing on, not just mentally. I was concentrating so hard, that I wonder what my face looked liked – I tend to look grumpy when I concentrate, or so I’m told.

Back to Savasana: I had read earlier in the week about focusing toward the third eye during Savasana. Since I have been having a difficult time getting focused during this pose, I was all for trying it. It wasn’t anything terribly difficult to do; just focus on that particular spot – the third eye. I just kept focusing, and each time my mind got in the way, I would just redirect the focus again; just keep focusing on that spot. Breathing and focusing. I saw a pin-prick of light. I wanted to laugh, and then scream, because someone behind me did laugh, and so I lost my pin-prick. Oh well. At least I know it’s there. I’m going to try it again!

Season of Change

2009-11-11T10:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I read an article about change. Here is a quote: “We are in a love-hate relationship with the opposing experiences of life that constantly change. We develop all sorts of control systems through money, power, skills, manipulation, and mind control to circumvent change. If you have personal attachment or preference for any given experience - which is bound to change – then you are bound to the fear of change.” -- Yogi Desai

I love the changes I see in myself. I am excited when I recognize a change, and am even excited when I notice something particular hasn’t changed. I want to be open-minded to the changes within me, to allow them to occur, and am delighted with all I see. On the other hand, I don't want to force myself into a particular change. This is why this article hit home for me. But, change is constant, and so is the resistance to it.

Others around me are resisting my change. I am uncertain if it is fear in themselves they see, or do they really not like me anymore? I’m not that person anymore, I am this person now; I am changed, and I am changing still. Recently, an individual close to me attempted to talk me out of continuing with yoga classes. There were all sorts of reasoned arguments. There was no allowing for me to talk, to share my joy, just one opinion after another. It was carefully done, too. I prize myself on my vocabulary, and although I don’t use it to the extent for which I am capable, it grants me the ability to recognize masterful use of words and their meaning. In essence, “I do not approve of all the time you’re spending on yoga. What about your family? What about your husband? What about helping your sister? What about…what about…? Well, ask my family, ask my husband, look at my home. I truly do not feel as though I have neglected anything, or anyone. On the contrary, I feel I give more attention where it is needed, and I feel good about this.

Funny thing is, change within me has been apparent for a while now, even before yoga. My husband commented on how much easier it was for me to pass on things I know are not good for me, when before there was a struggle. We, as a family, have been cutting back on our meat consumption for about a year, and suddenly for me it is easier to skip it entirely. There are items that need much more thought and much more effort. I still have a difficult time with emotion. Writing this is torture! But it’s good for me, so I do it. I still feel incredibly lonely during the day, something I haven’t shared until right this moment (again, very difficult to write). I sit in an empty house all day; no calls, no visitors. It can be hard to bear sometimes, and that is when I remember that I have yoga. I have a little practice – it may seem miserly to some, but it is mine, and it’s what I can do, therefore it’s perfect for me right now.

I suppose I haven’t really said much, just talked and talked (yammering, exactly), but I want to see where this goes, this feeling about change.

Air, Food, and Commitment

2009-11-09T14:43:00.000-07:00

I tried practicing this morning, but hurt my shoulder a little, so opted for the meditation part instead. Also, I cannot seem to take in enough air today, and as a result, I find myself yawning every few minutes. This has triggered my brain into thinking my body is tired, which it’s not. I mentioned over at my other blog that I haven’t been eating well lately. Well, I’m still not. I had a little success with something yesterday, but that’s it. I think the lack of nourishment is finally starting to take its toll on me. I feel good, except I am beginning to feel a little run down overall. I find my mind wandering more than it usually does, and I am not sleeping well. When you’re a Mom with a million things to do, sleep is a must!

I had a similar feeling just before I started yoga this summer. This morning, I was reminded of this by a woman I had a conversation with a few weeks before I began. She asked me if I ever figured out what it was I needed to do. I felt like there was some cataclysmic event hovering over me, and I needed to make a drastic change. Well, I did. I started yoga, and that feeling went away. I remind myself of this because I like where yoga takes me, and I need to recommit to my daily practicing. It’s hard when your body keeps telling you it is tired! What I find remarkable is that I feel like this on the days I don't practice. Coincidence? I think not.

Amazing Technicolor Mats - On Sale Now!

2009-11-07T17:53:00.001-07:00

Well, I’ve ordered a new mat. It was a dilemma to be certain. I read many of the reviews, and kept seeing comments such as “for the serious yogi,” or “only a true yogi would buy this mat.” And then the descriptions of the mats themselves: Stable, dense, high-performance, long, short, wide, ecologically sound, comes in 150 colors, and be sure to get your favorite chakra printed on top. There was even one that claimed it was legendary. For me it was similar to buying a new brand of laundry soap - I felt like the music from The Twilight Zone would have been appropriate. I was not at all educated to deal with this. Confusion and disorientation. There didn’t seem to be a category of mats for someone like me: “For the eager beginner who doesn’t have a clue and who continues sliding all over her old mat that resembles a rotten grape because she can’t make up her mind.” At least purple wasn’t an option. I went with plain old black. That’s the only thing I was absolutely certain of; I didn’t want to have my face planted right on a mat that can glow of its own accord. Black it is.

Call to Arms

2009-11-05T13:17:00.000-07:00

I need to write this so I don’t forget. Last night, in child’s pose, my arms were vibrating like violin strings. I actually looked at them, and I could see it! I don’t know how that happened. It didn’t hurt, nor was it unpleasant. I do remember thinking my arms would probably fly off towards heaven if I lifted them. As ever, I am astounded by what I feel.

Anger

2009-11-04T13:09:00.001-07:00

Many, many thoughts of anger. I myself am not angry; I’m actually feeling rather perky (new hair cut will do that!) but I have seen anger at every turn today. I had to go to my city hall for some minor paperwork, and there were several other individuals contained in the tiny space. All of them were in a dither about something or other. I say dither, but what I mean is angry. One man was yelling at one of the employees, another was calling his companion rude names for forgetting a piece of paperwork, and even the two kids there were arguing over a toy truck. The yelling man clearly wanted everyone present to witness his anger, and he was succeeding. The employee on the receiving end wasn’t being too cheerful herself. Yelling, sideways glances, and unsuccessful attempts to suppress disgust. No one was happy, and as it spread, and I wanted to cry.

Last week, I had a similar experience with someone I love. He was not happy with me for not “getting into it,” as he called it. He believed I should be outraged, and I should side with him, and should not even begin to question his authority and knowledge. I couldn’t handle it, excused myself from the conversation, and hung up the phone. Again last night, same type of conversation with the same person. I failed in my attempt to explain that I couldn’t control the situation, and we would simply have to wait it out. I was accused of being dispassionate, uncaring, and having no desire to help. I was overwhelmed this time and I allowed it to creep into my heart, where it settled in for the night. I didn’t sleep well, and I couldn’t make myself practice this morning. I just sat on the sofa like the blob I was feeling in my stomach.

Why do I write this here today? Simply put, because I am grateful for the experience. Being a witness to these types of situations has made me recognize where my control lies, and what is important, and what isn’t. I like being able to recognize this, but it is lonely on this side of the fence for me today. It has also made me realize that skipping my little practice each morning is not conducive to the stillness I am trying to find.

“If you do not wish to be prone to anger, do not feed the habit; give it nothing which may tend to its increase.” --Epictetus

Terra Firma

2009-11-03T08:38:00.000-07:00

Ok, I am really learning to enjoy Tadasana. This pose used to destroy my shoulders; lots of pain and I would engage in shallow breathing. Now, I seem to know that my arms are up there, but don’t really feel much, except strength. My shoulders are the part of me that I think will require the greatest amount of attention. I am always skeptical that they will ever release, so this is exciting for me!

Last night, in this pose, my teacher instructed us to push into the floor with our feet; really feel where the feet were making contact with the floor. My mind immediately went to the feet, but could not feel the floor. I could feel the mat beneath my feet, making contact with it; nice and soft, but no floor. I really concentrated on the floor. I could feel energy moving towards my feet, but still no floor. I thought perhaps my feet were simply in the proper place, but later, in a different pose (chair pose) I had the same experience. My feet just seemed to touch the mat, but not the floor. I’m not certain what this means, but I enjoyed the sensation.

My Poor Mat

2009-11-02T09:13:00.001-07:00

Well, as I've mentioned, I am tired of sliding all over my mat. Just as I think I can't take it anymore - I tore my mat! I didn't mean to, it just happened. My finger went right through the little hole, and so did my focus.

Now I have the jolly chore of finding a new one. This is out of my area of knowledge, so will most likely end up online for several hours reading about the differences between them. My current, and now holey mat has been hanging around the house for several years. I have no memory of the purchase, but I do know it was me that bought it. Oh well, onward I move!

I'm Not Done Yet

2009-11-01T09:53:00.005-07:00

I seem to be suffering from an overload of free time. I have been writing here almost everyday! Yesterday, however, I had just enough time between Halloween obligations to quickly jot down my thoughts on yesterday’s practices. I didn’t do a very good job of it; incomplete and incoherent thoughts and a few run-on sentences. Now I hope to fix that and explain, or rather expand what I felt in Savasana. I do not want to forget!

As I wrote yesterday, I’ve never been unable to understand how this could be a difficult pose. I completely disagreed with this idea. Admittedly, I look forward to it because it is so relaxing, especially after a couple of practices like yesterday. Miserable is the word I used to describe them. Now, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my lack of what I thought was success. I had expectations (dirty little word). This time though, my expectations led me somewhere unexpected, and this is why I am grateful.

At the end of class, or personal practice, lying in Savasana has solely been about relaxing the muscles I might be having trouble with, and listening to my breathing. I believed what I was doing, how I was reacting to this pose was correct. Yesterday, while trying to relax my right hip and ignore the pain in my hand and head, I had a fleeting thought; it was something like an escaping sigh of relief in response to finally completing my practice for the day. This is when I heard or felt something whisper that I was not done yet. It only took a single second for me to understand so fully why this was a difficult posture. I had never, and I mean never, viewed Savasana as a posture; never considered it worthy of the same attention I would give to a warrior pose or a balance posture. Up until that point, I had considered my practice “finished” as soon as I lay onto the floor, but I'm not done yet. I finally figured it out; it is hard to lay there and not let my mind wander. Although I am usually thinking about what I had just been doing (my practice), I wasn’t utilizing that moment as a time to actually be practicing, not reviewing my practice. This right here, this blog, or my notebook, is where I need to review my practice, not Savasana. I am reminded that my practice on Saturday sucked, but now I am really glad it did.

Savasana

2009-10-31T14:10:00.001-06:00

Lately, my words haven’t seemed adequate to express what I am feeling. It has been difficult, yet rewarding to discover new ways to describe an experience. I feel like I am stuck between to planes of thought. I need to try to do my thoughts justice today.

Saturday’s yoga class has always been strange for me. Perhaps it is the morning hour since I usually attend class at night, which is odd since I am a self-proclaimed morning person. I was hopeful this morning that I would have some different focus. I practiced on my own when I got up, and that didn’t go at all well. I began to get a little light headed, and when I attempted to take some deep breaths was when I realized I hadn’t been breathing - at all! So, I focused on alignment instead, which helped. Getting to class I figured I would stick to the alignment. Oh, how sorely I was misled by the body today. I slid all over the place. My feet were frozen, so they slid, too. I tried everything (except giving up); no use. As I slid in downward facing dog, I hurt my right wrist. It started throbbing about 5 minutes later, which made it very difficult to concentrate on breathing, which we had been directed to do. Concentrate on breathing - something I had been completely unable to do all morning. Sometimes I swear my problems are tattooed across my forehead! I write all this down to remind myself of how I felt throughout the class. No focus, no breathing, but not too much chatter in my head. When I started to berate myself, I noticed what was happening and could put it on mute. At least until the end.

I have heard my teacher explain that Savasana is one of the most difficult poses to be in. Although not at all physically demanding, mental discipline is required. I’ve let this information pass through me. I always thought it wasn’t a big deal; I can lie there and listen to my breathing, and close my mind down fairly well, so I’ve never focused or given a second thought to the idea that Savasana is difficult. I illustrated above how miserable I felt my practice was during class this morning, so when it was time for Savasana, I was relieved. I had a headache and my wrist was still throbbing. I kept thinking, “Just get your body where it needs to be, make the necessary adjustments, and just do your thing; be still.” I do not think I will ever forget what I heard next. I heard a little whisper that simply said, “You’re not done yet.” In that instant I knew exactly what my teacher has been talking about. I felt muscles in my back I have never felt suddenly realease. I was still mighty uncomfortable, but was suddenly excited that I finally get it! Savasana is hard!

A Few Hours Later...

2009-10-30T17:25:00.000-06:00

Something funny happened. I have a home page with my ISP that pops up each time I sign on. There are stock updates, movie times, weather, and horoscopes ("horrorscopes" I call them). This page has been out to lunch all week; that is, it hasn't been working. I didn't really care much, and rarely pay much attention to it aside from the weather report. So, I signed on just now, and it was there. My "horrorscope" was right there on top, and I copied it, and am pasting it exactly as it appeared:

Virgo

August 23 - September 22

This is an excellent day to tell people exactly what you feel, dear Virgo. Your emotions are more stable than usual, so open up and let your heart speak. What you learn today will be extremely valuable for the future, so pay attention. Keep an eye on what is real but feel free to let your heart explore all the possibilities. Follow your emotions and trust your instincts. You stand to gain quite a bit.

Well, apparently the stars think I need to speak up as well. Good laugh!

Hide and Seek

2009-10-30T13:54:00.000-06:00

Once again, I began thinking about how much emotion I hold back. This morning, I had an experience that really made me happy; I am going to start personal yoga lessons at home. I love going to class, and will still go, but there is only so much I can do there, so I made the decision to essentially step it up (more love in yoga if you read yesterday’s post). While I was preparing to head out into the world on a mission of errands, I began to recount to myself what I had learned which again reminded me of how happy I am about this. But do you know what I did? I swallowed it. I felt it, quite literally, slide back down my throat into the pit of my stomach. Yep, I swallowed happiness. Why would anyone do this? I stood in my kitchen for a few minutes trying to figure out why I did. I was even alone; no one around to witness my giddiness! If something makes me happy, why would I hide it, even with myself? Holy cats, I really need to stop doing this!

I summoned up the happiness again (wasn’t difficult) and called my husband before it could fade. The effect was instant. It only took once, expressing how I felt, for the happiness to stay on the surface where it could be seen and where it could shine. My point with all of this is that I noticed this time and took steps to make it better. Life can sometimes be ridiculously simple.

Unrequited Love

2009-10-29T13:20:00.002-06:00

Realizations come at the most inopportune moments; I think I may have discovered why I always feel so offended when I leave yoga class. I have really tried to find a way to express this.

I try to write down most of my experiences I have with yoga. Most of them I write down in a notebook that seems to travel all over my house. Sometimes I can’t find it, so I end up writing things down on a scrap paper, or in one of my many other notebooks - usually the cooking notebooks, as there are more of those than any other. Safely lodged between a notation about reductions for sauces and a recipe for vegetarian chili there is a little note about Satya. I find this comical, and yet poignant. Truthfulness.

I started this blog as a means for me to streamline and share those many, many thoughts and try to keep them from wandering off. While this has been a good thing for me, actively writing out my thoughts, it has forced me to be rather cryptic with my descriptions. On my way home from class last night, I realized that I have become too vague with my thoughts. I’m not actually describing what I am feeling; only generalizations. I realize this is, technically, what I am thinking, but I assure you, my mind is expanding these things into a larger format than what I express here on this blog. Basically, I have been condensing the information. I now feel like I should be saying, or writing, exactly what I might be thinking - stop being so vague. If I have to tell a story and actually say “Yeah, so my Dad called and really made me angry and here’s how yoga helped me out,” then I should do it. I dislike keeping everything buried beneath the surface.

Here is a story: Yoga class felt like it offended me, but up until now I haven’t been able to figure out why. It isn’t the people there: while I don’t personally know the other people attending the class with me, they do seem to be wonderful individuals. I also really like and respect my teacher. And though it’s still all so new to me, and I feel clueless, I can say I love yoga. Here is where I think I have messed up. I love yoga, but I don’t necessarily feel that yoga loves me in return, hence the offensive feelings. First, I just personified yoga. Second, I shouldn’t expect any kind of love in return when given. That’s not what love is. Several years ago, I went through the same kind of ordeal with bacon. Yes, bacon. One day I finally figured out that bacon was destroying me. I got so sick whenever I ate it, but loved it so much, I felt I could never give it up. I had a choice to make; be sick or give it up. I gave it up. The scent of cooking bacon still makes my mouth water, but that’s as far as it will ever get. This is where my desire to quit yoga plays in (no, yoga is not bacon in this scenario). It would be easier to give up, just like it was easier to keep eating bacon; no work involved.

I say I love yoga, but what I finally realized is that I am not putting my love in yoga. I realized that I had created expectations for myself without meaning to, and that I am not working at it like I should be, like I need to be, and like I want to be. Does this make any sense? Perhaps not, but at least it’s out here, waiting to be thought about and mulled over.

Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.

2009-10-27T09:44:00.001-06:00

Last night during class, I experienced some pretty great stuff. First, I should point out that physically I was as limber as dried wood, was sweating like mad, and there was a football game going one inside my head. It was very entertaining! I had a loud-mouth coach saying things like “TOES! HEAD! SHOULDER! ELBOW!” I half expected to hear “HIKE!” Fortunately, this only lasted a few minutes, but it did make me laugh.

I did find some pretty great peace and stillness. I say I found it, but it was more like traveling and meeting half way. For the very first time, there was no sharp sensation building in my arms and hands during yoga mudra. I was just there. What I liked about this was not simply that I noticed, but that I didn’t fall out of that stillness as I noticed, which I have previously done. The stillness remained as we moved on.

I heard it again last night: “Move the left toes a little.” In Warrior 1, they were a little numb, so the adjustment was perfect. I am so amazed at what I hear when the chatter in my head moves. I don’t think it ever stops; the volume it simply reduced, or is even muted as it was last night. “Move the hip back” was the other item I heard. I followed the advice, and felt again that great wave of energy. Today, this makes me wonder if others would be able to see this happening in me, or if I could recognize the experience occurring in someone else. I wonder because I want others to feel it too. I really, really like this!

Sewing, Stillness, and Tired of Dropping My Keys

2009-10-26T14:47:00.001-06:00

There are many yogic thoughts bouncing around in my head today. I had a good chat about the more unpleasant thoughts with my husband yesterday, but as always, he can’t help me much. Not because he is unwilling or unsupportive, he simply doesn’t know what a camel pose is, what yoga mudra is, and when I try to show him, my daughter sees it and says, “Oh gross Mom, you’re all twisted!”

I went for a nice long walk today, and tried to work through some things I have on my mind. My walking shoes desperately need replacing, so this got my mind onto the state of my shoes. Shortly thereafter my hands got cold so I took my gloves out of my pocket, which dislodged my house key, causing it to fall to the ground. This got me to thinking about how often I seem to drop my keys, and how most of the time it’s while I am walking into yoga class. The clothes I wear to class don’t have pockets! This got me to thinking about how much I need to find a bag for my keys, my eyeglasses, my gloves, my mat, my hat…winter is approaching, and I get cold, so walking into yoga class without wearing these things would not help bring me into a warm and fuzzy state (literally and figuratively). So, I started doing some walking-math trying to figure out how to make a bag this would all fit in. It was a little too much fun. I love sewing, so by the time I found my way home, I had some pretty fancy ideas. As I walked into the house, it all came crashing down; I left with the expressed intention of working through some things, and ended up not thinking about any of it! Instead, I concocted a bag in my head! I really need to get my mind to shut-up. Stillness may elude me today, but I am still going to make a bag; why waste a good idea?

A Little Light Reading

2009-10-25T08:45:00.000-06:00

I was reading this morning and came across a line in some text someone else was paraphrasing. It didn’t affect me so much but rather shot right through me, grabbed my heart, and hung on as tightly as it could. “Let your gentleness be evident to all.” It was listed as being from the bible, but the verse listed was incorrect, so now I can’t check. I don’t know why it has affected me so, but it’s nice to know I can be affected in such a way.

An Apple for My Ear

2009-10-22T12:48:00.002-06:00

If silence is the absence of sound, then should stillness be the absence of movement? I suppose that would be the literal way of looking at it. I have started to wonder what stillness really is. I have experienced stillness enough now that I know what it has the power to do, but am still uncertain as to what it actually is. Am I too introspective, and need to stop attempting to name everything? Much more thinking…

As I began to think about stillness, I fell into my morning routine. I suddenly stopped in my tracks and thought about my routine itself. Without letting go of the actual items to accomplish (they’d never get done) I decided to shake up my routine a bit. I wanted to see if there was any difference to my perception of the things around me in regards to stillness. One small detail allowed me to do this: I didn’t turn on any music.

I am a lover of classical music. I find a day in my kitchen with Beethoven and baking makes me very, very happy - almost blissful. I decided to give the stereo the morning off. It was so incredibly quiet that I noticed things and heard things I’ve never paid any attention to. I was working with apples today, and I found myself in love with the sound of the paring knife moving underneath the apple skin as I peeled. My refrigerator sounds like it has indigestion. The lights overhead make a gentle hum. There is a spot on the floor that has a teeny little creak. I could even hear the sound of the apple juices landing on the countertop as it escaped from the apple. This really surprises me, not because I could hear the individual items I’ve named, but because I wonder what else I’ve been missing. Not necessarily missing the sound of apple juice splatter, but larger, more important things. I’m not going to devote myself to a life of silence; I love laughter, conversation, and music way too much for that! I’m just saying that shaking up a routine once in a while can really be an eye opener - or an ear opener, as the case may be.

Faith vs. Knowledge

2009-10-21T09:03:00.000-06:00

This morning, after sleeping like the dead, I attempted sun salutations. My body screamed at me. It said to NEVER do THAT again. I knew what it meant: I skipped practicing yesterday. I was so exhausted by my lack of sleep that I couldn’t even focus on a phone call, so I didn’t believe I could perform any variety of yoga without injury. In retrospect, I think I may have been misinformed by my mind! Today, I am incredibly stiff and I creak in places I haven’t spoken with in a while. It was a little uncomfortable to begin, but once I started, I was ok. This has brought to the forefront of my vision that the point is simply to begin. Do not allow my mind to talk me out of practicing each day, even if it’s just a little, and even if I'm not so great at it. I have the time, even if I believe I am too busy or too tired.

My ego likes to tell me that I am a beginner and that I don’t know what I am doing, so just give it up already. I am learning to ignore this thought. When I began playing the piano 4 years ago, I had similar thoughts of quitting. I couldn’t stand to hear the mistakes and hated that I thought I knew better; I did play the violin after all. I should know how to play the piano; you can already read the notes, you already know the key signatures. I pushed through it, and I practiced, and eventually my mind shut up and my fingers found the keys. This morning, I sat at the piano and played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. This is when it struck me that I know the difference between faith and knowledge. I know what I am capable of; I know what I can achieve. I know. Having this knowledge is how I can get up each morning and work through sun salutations, and know that even though I am just beginning my journey, have faith that I will someday no longer be just a beginner.

Lackluster

2009-10-20T10:40:00.000-06:00

I have acquired some new luggage: it’s black and blue, puffy, and can be carried rather conveniently beneath the eyes. I believe this might be a result of yesterday’s conversation concerning religion. I didn’t sleep. At all. Not one wink. Or, it could be that I was unable to go to class again due to my husband’s work travels. I’m feeling not only physically sluggish now, but my mind is like a pin-ball machine. I am also feeling rather hurt no one I asked would help me with my children so I could go to class last night. This shouldn’t upset me, but it does.

I suppose I am finding attending class necessary because I am still new. I still do not have a personal practice set up and functioning. I am trying, I really am. I have tried practicing at different times of the day, to see which works best. I tried last night, but my kids kept coming in and asking questions, or needing me to break up their fight (hey, at least they ask). I don’t know what today will bring. Meditation feels right, but, as things currently are, I am babysitting.

Spirited (or Spiritual) Conversation

2009-10-19T10:20:00.001-06:00

When you visit a professional office (orthodontist) once a month, you tend to get to know those who are employed there. This morning, while at this particular office, I got into a discussion with the office manager/receptionist. She is a really nice woman, and I enjoy her friendly disposition, and thus truly like to chat with her while I wait. We were talking about the professionalism of other offices, and their status quo. This led the receptionist into her views as to why people chose to no longer patronize some offices, and search for new a one (e.g. leaving a doctor for a new one). She mentioned how she feels she has no control over whether or not patients stay; it is ultimately their own choice. This idea of no control is one I have really been investigating lately. If you have been reading this blog regularly, then you’ll already know this.

I decided to venture into my recent studies, and tell this woman about what I had been learning and why. By the time I finished, her eyes were so wide, her eye brows appeared to be buried in her hairline. Her opinion of my thoughts was evident in her facial expression. She immediately took the “but yoga is a religion” route. She berated me with opinions of religion and dogma and how I should not even be speaking about such things. All I even said was how I was learning about the Yoga Sutras and the Yamas and Niyamas. Yes, these were new words for her, but still, I did not venture too deeply nor express too strong opinion. I am still new to yoga, and really don’t have strong opinion (or knowledge). However, what I do have is the beginning of a belief system. I can feel it.

This was my first encounter with such a topic outside of conversation with my teacher and my husband. I was not prepared. It was really hard to sit there and have someone I know only behind a desk tell me that I am not a very good Christian, that I am not a good person, and clearly I must be confused. Another woman waiting in the small room was listening, and even she had a stunned look etched upon her face. At first, I was tempted to explain, tempted to express my views and my feelings, and her lack of control for my point of view. It was a one way street this morning, and I was apparently headed in the wrong direction. I stepped aside and let her pass.

I don’t know if I have expressed this clearly at all. I wanted to write it all down before I forgot. I live in a very religious and spiritual community; a community which I love, so I know this will come up in the future. For now, I am at a complete loss.

Something's Afoot

2009-10-18T16:20:00.001-06:00

My yoga teacher has a penchant for using a floor mopping analogy when teaching us, so I suppose it was inevitable that I thought about yoga while I mopped today. Yes, I was mopping on a Sunday, and that’s another story. I quite literally am not bothered by mopping my kitchen floor. Really. (If you don’t believe me, please see my other blog.) Today though, something happened that hasn’t occurred in recent memory. I was in the middle of the chore when my husband trudged across the kitchen floor with his boots on. Yes, that’s right, shoe prints across my freshly scrubbed surface. I closed my eyes, inhaled very, very deeply, exhaled very, very slowly, and then opened my eyes. I didn’t know what I would see, but I certainly didn’t think it would be him rummaging through the cupboards looking for a meal-destroying chocolate bar. I stood there, comically gripping the mop handle, and waited for him to notice what was “afoot.”

Nope. Nothing.

Another deep breath.

Ok, this is where I began thinking of yoga. Would he slide across the floor on his way back to the sofa, and end up in downward-facing dog? Would I throw my patience out the window and get angry? Would I demand that he re-mop?

*Sigh*

Once again, no control ever existed (I love this). I just stood there waiting for him to remember that I was mopping the floor two feet away from him. As he turned to face me, the realization dawned.

“Oh. Oh!”

I could see he just didn’t notice the huge bucket (a miracle he didn’t trip over it), the lingering scent of peppermint, the wife swishing around the kitchen. Had I gotten mad, it would have accomplished nothing and would have only made me feel horrible; I would rather re-mop the floor, which I did. Rest assured, there was some teasing afterward. I love that man.

Taking Notice

2009-10-16T12:58:00.001-06:00

For the last few hours, I’ve been reading through my journal I have kept since starting my yoga journey. I was trying to pinpoint something specific, but along the way, I noticed something, and wanted to share it.

Yoga Class (emphasis on the class).

My first class I went to, I was mortified. I was so concerned with what the other people present would think; was I wearing the right clothing, was my hair ok, etc., etc., me, me, me.

I am not a very brave soul. I have a hard time meeting new people, and certainly do not like to draw attention to myself unnecessarily. I don’t have anxiety; learning to play the violin in front of an audience cured me of that particular fear, but unbeknownst to me, I had other fears I wasn’t even aware of until I stepped into yoga class. I didn’t realize that practicing in front of, and alongside other people would help me view things more clearly. I was not alone.

At the beginning of class, I can lie on the floor and not put any thought into what someone walking in might think. I can close my eyes, feel the pins sliding out of hair (which means my hair will be sliding very soon) and not feel I must fix it. I wear huge hand-me-over T-shirts and thrift store pants to class, and I like it! I find that I don’t even remember what I have on. Sometimes, I am so relaxed, and so at ease when I return home, that I go to bed in the clothing I wore to class – without even giving any thought to it. About a year previous to beginning yoga, I had been reducing and eliminating my use of cosmetics. The class has helped me realize that I hadn’t quite accepted my natural appearance, although I thought I had. A few days ago, my husband told me how wonderful I looked, but had no clue I wasn’t wearing make-up until I pointed it out. The rest of that story is personal!

I am aware of all these things, but I find it no longer affects me. I am grateful I was encouraged to write down my observations, and to share them. Otherwise, these breakthroughs would likely have gone unnoticed.

The Shoulder

2009-10-15T16:24:00.001-06:00

Incredibly pleased I attended class last night. I expected pain, but none came. When I got home last night, I mentioned to my husband that I felt like Yoga was more productive than the anti-inflammatory the doctor had me take. I felt better than I had done for several days. This was a most pleasant surprise. As a result, I have felt wonderful all day, with energy to accomplish the tasks at hand.

Also, a neat thing happened during class, at least, I think it’s neat. Bending to the right (gosh, I wish I could remember the name of the pose now, I just know which it is in my head), but I remember hearing my teacher instruct us to reach our shoulder towards the ceiling. To my knowledge, I’ve never heard him say this during this particular pose. Wow, that little bit of knowledge just sent off fireworks not only within my head, but body. Oh, that’s what I’m supposed to be doing! Then, we switched to the other side. No instruction, just moving along, I heard something say “adjust; the shoulder hurts.” So I adjusted, and felt the same relaxation flow throughout. What surprises me is that it was the shoulder, not my shoulder. Of course, as soon as I thought this, it was once again my shoulder. I knew something like this might happen one day, but not this quickly. I keep thinking I imagined it.

Borrowing From Those More Intelligent Than I

2009-10-11T13:57:00.001-06:00

"Who has a harder fight than he who is striving to overcome himself?"

--Thomas a Kempis (German religious writer of the 15th century)

I really don't have anything to say; nothing to share. I recall a few days previous that I believed my yoga to being falling asleep. Hopefully it's just a nap.

Current Events

2009-10-09T15:02:00.001-06:00

"I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience."

--William Shakespeare Henry VIII Act 3, Scene 2

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

2009-10-08T08:47:00.000-06:00

One can say “I am sad, which is why I cry today,” and be considered a blubbering idiot and no longer strong.
One can say “I practice yoga,” and thought to be weird and unspiritual.
One can say “I am going to meditate this morning,” but considered to be off her rocker.
One can say “No, I don’t watch that TV program because I am at Yoga class,” and thought to be bizarre and behind the times.

BUT one can say “I hear YODA in my head,” and thought to be rather normal and in tune with the universe.

Stronger

2009-10-07T09:00:00.002-06:00

Old emotion has been my vice lately, but new emotion crept up last night. I received bittersweet news that would affect even the strongest individual. The old me – the pre-yoga me – would have reacted differently. I would have applied my stiff upper lip approach, and dealt with it. Something, someone, some other line of thinking, a higher and more pure way of thinking and feeling, softly slid into my mind last night. I let the emotion come. I allowed a tsunami of tears to fall. I didn’t want peace, I wanted to feel it. I wanted to mourn this news. The old me would have pushed it aside and gone to bed, and fallen asleep. The new me got out of bed, and sat on my mat, and just sat there. I didn’t feel like postures; simple breathing and simple meditation seemed to be what I needed – at midnight. I am still sad this morning, and extremely tired, but something about me is different. I can see it in my face, feel it my hands, feel it in my heart. I can hear a line from Star Wars in my head, Yoda saying, “Meditate on this, I will.”

Yes, I will.

I always knew my niece would have a short life span, but never would have guessed it to be abruptly so. My life has been infinitely blessed by her.

Oh, Shut Up!

2009-10-06T11:12:00.001-06:00

My only goal for class last night was to keep my mouth shut. This seems like a silly thing to do when I have essentially been attempting to keep it open. What I mean is I didn’t want to speak. For me, class has nothing to do with speaking. My voice is not needed; well, not an audible voice. I wanted to see if I could go to class, sit down, close my eyes, and shut it all down. I didn’t want the customary pre-class chit-chat to engross me. I keep my car ride to class as quiet as I possibly can, and walking in to the building and loosing that stillness has been perceptible. This is one of the little details I have noticed, and I wanted to somehow attend to it.

I also wanted to avoid the after-class chit-chat. When I left home last night, I said goodbye to my husband, and the next time I spoke was when I walked back in and said hello to him. I didn’t let out a single sigh. I was quiet the entire time, and as a result, was also quiet on the inside. I doubt this will be the normal order of operation for me; I do enjoy speaking with others. However, lately, I’ve have been overwhelmed with feelings and emotions, and hearing nothing certainly has appeal.

My quiet practice last night was one of my best. I truly saw nothing, and heard nothing. I didn’t think. I was outside of myself, and looked at things from a higher platform. I loved it. I also loved the peaceful night’s sleep it afforded me! My day thus far has been an extension of last night’s practice; I feel so incredibly quiet today. My 2 young nieces are to arrive in an hour, and I am sure one variety of peace will disappear with their arrival! I have a tendency to feel so unintelligent with my yoga, so I am very proud of myself for my achievement.