Lucky (Day) 13 January 23, 2011
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Day 13
Nothing comes from nothing
Nothing ever could
So, somewhere in my youth, or childhood,
I must have done something good.
– Maria and the Captain in The Sound of Music
Yoga Day USA 2011 was a great day for union. Ironically, I started the day without a physical practice. Sure, I sat for 5 minutes and I thought about asana – and I did demonstrate some poses when I taught in the morning – but I didn’t do what I would consider a significant amount of hatha yoga. Yet and still, when I sat down on a block in the empty studio to do my 18-Minute So Hum Meditation my body felt OK, and my mind and spirit felt open to the possibility of a deep seated meditation. More than anything, however, I felt lucky to be on the mat – even though, literally speaking, I wasn’t.
Part of the reason I felt so lucky, this morning was because I was looking forward to attending the wedding of some very special friends. To end “Union” Day USA with this extra special union seemed incredibly apropos. Another reason I felt so fortunate was that I had just finished guiding a 90-minute class focused on Drishti (sight/gaze/focal point) and it’s connection to Dharana (concentration), Dhyana (meditation), and Samadhi (union with divine/enlightenment). I did a companion class on this theme twice on Friday. The Saturday morning class was much smaller than the Friday classes, yet I was blown away by the energy and focus of every person in the room. When we got to the guided meditation, I faced expressions ranging from relaxed to ecstatic. Energetically, my body-mind-spirit felt like the room was packed. People seemed to be making the connection…getting it…coming together.
At an earlier point, however, I felt like I made a mistake. During a point of relaxation, when I typically say, “Don’t check out,” and encourage people to tune in to the theme, I made what might be considered a yoga faux pas. As I recited the 8-limbs of yoga and tied together how the practice of Drishti enhances Dharana and Dhyana – which in turn can lead to Samadhi – I said, “If you practice, and you’re lucky, you can reach Samadhi…” Whoops. I considered trying to correct the statement, but I let it stand and moved forward. As it turns out, this may have been my moment of truth.
We often think of luck as chance, a random accident of some kind. First and foremost, however, the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines luck as “a force that brings good fortune or adversity” or, as “the events or circumstances that operate for or against an individual.” In the philosophy of yoga everything we do or think is karma – an action – which determines how future events proceed. By practicing yoga, we actively and consciously attempt to create events and circumstances that operate for us; we attempt to actively and consciously create our own luck. Hatha Yoga, the physical practice of yoga, literally means “by force union.” It is, accordingly, another form of creating one’s own luck.
So, yes, at the end of Yoga Day USA 2011, I feel lucky to have a yoga practice to call my own and to be a small part of so many wonderful practices. I also feel lucky because today’s video sequence was 20-Minute Tension Release Shoulder Openers with Kate Holcombe. Not only was this a perfect way to end a long day, it was exactly the kind of practice my body needed.
At some point directly after I finished the Day 11 sequence, which featured some shoulder rotation exercises in anticipation of backbending, I became aware of a little soreness around my trapezius muscles. Also, moving my neck in certain directions produced a sound very similar to the sound produced when milk is poured over Rice Krispies. None of this was particularly painful, but it was odd and a little disconcerting. I figured it would all come out in the wash, but I really didn’t do too much to actively help the restoring process along. At least, not until this evening’s practice.
A yoga practice can make you feel like you just had a massage, or it can highlight the areas you need massaged. Holcombe’s practice is restorative by nature and, in this case, really made me aware of the muscles I need to relax in order to get back to what passes for normal. The simple, repetitive motions made me very aware of the imbalances in my shoulder girdle. The best part, however, was Holcombe encouraging the viewer to note the differences on each side and to repeat the sequences accordingly. While not billed as a vinyasa practice, the order of the poses and the emphasis on linking breath to movement fits under the definition of vinyasa.
I especially appreciated the bits of pranayama included throughout the video. Holcombe has me rethinking my avoidance of Sitali Pranayama, cooling breath control. In the past, I’ve eschewed this type of breath control because (a) the tongue roll seemed prohibitive and (b) I rarely feel the need to cool my body down through breath work. On the rare occasions when I do want to actively use my breath to release some heat, I simply open my mouth and sigh. Sometimes I might even stick out my tongue and roar. I don’t think to do Sitali Pranayama. It’s just not part of my practice.
Holcombe offered a modification, which encouraged me to try the practice. To my surprise, I was able to produce the tongue roll. It wasn’t easy; but, with practice, I bet I could roll right into it. The temperature in my room was a little cool, which may be the reason I was struck by how incredibly cold and dry my tongue felt during the inhales. One thing I didn’t hear was any instruction on pulling the tongue as far back into the mouth as possible (during the exhale) in order to lubricate the tongue. Just closing the mouth over the tongue doesn’t seem to do enough. It’s possible this information was included but I just didn’t hear it. I also didn’t hear any cautions about times or conditions when practicing Sitali Pranayama is contraindicated.
My other a-ha moment with regard to Sitali Pranayama came when I started to realize why B. K. S. Iyengar writes, “This pranayama cools the system.” I’ve read of people cooling their body temperature with this breathing method, but tonight’s experience made me aware of how it calms and soothes the body and the nervous system. I am curious to see, as I continue the practice, if I eventually find it as calming on the parasympathetic nervous system as Nadi Sodhana Pranayama (Alternate Nasal Breathing).
Finally, I should admit that while I love props and understand their value in any practice – including a vinyasa practice – I didn’t practice this sequence in a chair, as demonstrated. Props are not always readily available. I’ve been known to get creative: using Legos and hand weights as blocks, or hardcover books as a foundation. Tonight, however, I just didn’t want take the extra time to find an appropriate chair. So, I got creative. I practiced parts of the video in Sukhasana, Siddhasana, Dandasana, and a modified Virasana. I even tried a Navasana prep position (knees bent, feet on the floor) to create more space for my back to round. Lucky for me, the sequence worked just fine in a comfortable, seated position – directly on my mat.
~ Lokah Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu ~
Day 12 Takes Flight January 22, 2011
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Day 12
“It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key.
– Winston Churchill, 1939
Crow Pose: People love it, hate it, or dread it. Some folks practice it religiously, while others avoid it at all costs. And, within both groups are the people who are continually mystified by the riddle of the name: Is it Bakasana or Kakasana?**
When it comes to the physical practice of the pose, I fall into the “love it/practice it religiously” category. My love affair with Crow undoubtedly started in Texas, but I became aware of my affinity for the pose when I was going through teacher training. Because of my experiences practicing in Texas, my Crow looked very different from the ones I saw in Minneapolis. My heart was pointed forward (instead of back), my bottom and hips were low to the ground (instead of pointed up in the air), and my back was flat (instead of rounded). Additionally, I couldn’t hold the pose for any significant amount of time, because I couldn’t get past the idea that my arms, legs, and hips were somehow ill-formed for the pose. After a little Q&A session with Kai Trinh, one of the teachers leading the training, I realized I had to trust my practice – and trust that it was right were it needed to be. I also realized three of my big reasons for loving Crow:
- It’s a pose that illustrates the difference between practicing yoga and just getting some exercise. Sure, you can muscle into this pose, but to stay here, and breath here, requires more than brute strength.
- Practicing this pose, even when fully modified with both feet on the floor, requires a person to confront doubts and fears – in particular, the literal and figurative fear of “falling on your face.”
- To do this pose, you have to lead with your heart, get your ego out of the way, and let go of the fears and doubts that hold you down. It can feel like you’re defying gravity when, in fact, you’re just playing with it.
When I first started teaching, my regulars could count on me throwing Crow Pose into the mix fairly early on, without a whole lot of preliminaries. I’d get the body integrated and warmed up, then I’d start the flying lessons. One of the reasons I did this was for the energetic benefit of an arm balance early in the practice. Another reason I did it is my fourth big reason for loving Crow:
- There’s some many places you can go! In Light On Yoga, B. K. S. Iyengar suggests that advanced students move into the arm balance** from Salamba Sirsasana II (Supported “Tripod” Headstand). If however, your Tripod is in it’s early stages and you’re still developing the core strength to lift the legs, then a great practice is mindfully moving from Crow into the first stage of Tripod (with knees on the forearms) – and then back again. You can also use Crow as the prep for Crane** and a number of other arm balances. Plus, there’s the ever popular practice of “floating” into Chaturanga.
Even though one of my favorite teaching moments was guiding a high school football coach into a full expression of Crow, after he’d said he was too heavy to do it, I’ve spent more time focused on the energetic and emotional aspects of getting into the pose than on the physical. Last year, however, I tried out a Rodney Yee video featuring hip openers and arm balances. The video introduced me to some new ways of getting into the pose. It was also a big light bulb moment, that flashed me back to teacher training: legs and hips are as much a part of the key to demystifying this pose as the heart, core, and breath – not to mention the arms.
Jason Crandell’s 30-Minute Peak Pose Sequence leading to Bakasana (Crow Pose**) beautifully opens up the body on a physical level. A good portion of the video focused on the hips and the leg muscles connected to the hips. There was also a good deal of core and arm engagement, plus some upper back opening. Unfortunately, there were also some technical difficulties – which left my body a little cold and my arms burning (from holding plank poses after a full day teaching them). One thing I will say about this sequence and the way Crandell guides it, however, is that when I was moving through it, I was building heat.
The downside to the downloading issues a lot of people experienced on Day 12 was partially canceled out, in my book, by the fact that I had to keep repeating (and holding!!!) the poses in the first 4 minutes of the video. So, my hip flexors were seriously flexed. This made my legs super ready for the deep seated meditation I did after practicing with the video. Another plus, to the unfortunate technology problems: I found another Yoga Journal video featuring Jason Crandell opening up the hips. Boy am I looking forward to that!
Day 12 was one of those days when I wished I could have downloaded the video and practiced it away from my computer. Instead, I started the day with my mini-meditation and then practiced the sequence I was going to teach. I was a little hungry and super tired when I arrived home, but it felt really good to do this video sequence. As far as my outer body was concerned, I was ready to rock the 18-Minute Meditation. Internally, however, I was a wreck. This was my worse meditating day yet. Every 5 minutes, or so, I had to remind myself to sit still, sit up, and stop thinking/day dreaming/planning/remembering….Of course, the fact that I kept pulling myself back to the moment and back to the meditation makes it a success in the practice column.
**NOTE: In vinyasa and many other hatha yoga practices, Crow Pose is an arm balance where the arms are bent, a la Chaturanga, and the knees rest on the forearms (or are tucked into the armpits). This is the pose featured in the Day 12 video. Crane Pose is a similar arm balance where the arms are straight. Bakasana is a Sanskrit word for Crane Pose, but is often used in the West for Crow Pose – which, in Sanskrit, would be Kakasana. Some traditions make the distinction between the two poses, their names, and the birds they resemble. Of course, the more traditions you explore, the more translations you find – and the more poses you find. For example, “Flying Frog” is a modification where the knees/legs are outside the arms, squeezing in. And, even though actual cranes aren’t scientifically related to actual herons (or actual crows), I’ve heard Heron Pose (a seated pose) referred to as Crane Pose.
~ NAMASTE ~
Day 11 Makes It Easy To Be Green January 21, 2011
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Day 11
“I am green and it’ll do fine, ’cause it’s beautiful / And I think it’s what I want to be…”
– Kermit the Frog
Physically and energetically, Anahata (“Unstruck”) Chakra, the green/heart energy wheel, extends beyond the upper torso and into the arms. So, I like to remind my students that their arms, their hands, and even their fingers are extensions of their heart and breath. Then, I take it further; see if they can extend their heart into their legs and toes, even their heels. I like for them to visualize how that works, energetically. I also like to focus on how leading with the heart can take any pose deeper. And, whenever possible, I encourage my students and myself to find the heart opening experience in poses that are not backbends.
There’s really no getting around the fact that mine is a heart centered practice. Sometimes this leads to some emotionally overwhelming, and confusing moments – moments we don’t always have the luxury to explore in a gym or studio setting where one class bumps into the next. I don’t believe, however, that we (as a society) can afford to practice (or live) any other way. Just as our heart chakra connects the two hemispheres of our bodies, it connects us to each other. Physiologically, we all have hearts running on electrical impulses – which, in the philosophy of yoga, we view as prana, life force energy. Metaphorically, we associate the heart with love – an emotional manifestation of energy. Metaphysically speaking, we combine the two in yoga every time we say Namaste: the light in me honors and acknowledges the light that is also in you.
Of course, since there are a lot of traditional backbends to choose from in the physical practice of yoga, I eagerly anticipated which ones Elise Lorimer would do on Day 11’s 30-Minute Aligning and Refining Practice featuring Backbends. I was also curious to see how she would open up the body for these poses. In keeping with my own philosophy, she started by bringing awareness to the breath-heart connection and by warming up the arms and shoulder girdle. She then proceeded through some heat building Sun Salutations and Warrior poses, both of which brought additional awareness to the back-body. Throughout the video, simple backbends appeared and became progressively deeper. All in all, it was a very nice and elegant sequence.
I only wish it had been longer. Since I wasn’t in a heated studio, and was slightly distracted by some technical difficulties I experienced earlier, my body didn’t feel like it was warming up until we were in the cooling down portion of the practice. The poses selected were simple enough for anyone to do and follow, however, a pose like Dhanurasana (Bow Pose) as it was presented can be unaccessible for some students. This is where I was frustrated by the lack of modifications. Sure, I can do it – even when my body is cold – but what about the person who can’t reach back and grab both feet, let alone both ankles. Honestly, I was surprised Lorimer didn’t comment on the fact that you could do the pose one leg at a time. I was especially surprised since she had offered other modifications along the way, including using the strap – which could also be utilized here.
Even though I didn’t feel particularly warm, the sequence whetted my appetite. I wanted more. Not only did I want more to warm me up, I wanted more backbending. This sequence could have easily worked it’s way into Ustrasana (Camel Pose) and Setu Bandha Sarvangasana (Bridge Pose), not to mention Natarajasana (Dancer Pose) and any number of heart opening arm balances like Wild Thing/Flip Dog, Bound Table, Urdhva Dhanurasana (Upward Bow Pose), and Kapinjalasana (Chataka Partridge Pose). Of course, there were only 30 minutes, and some of these poses aren’t appropriate for this medium. I’d be curious to know, however, how Lorimer leads this series in a regular class setting and where she goes with it before she gets into the Surrender sequence.
Because of the aforementioned technical difficulties, I did my 18-Minute seated meditation before the asana practice. Today’s video is yet another one I look forward to experiencing, at some point, as an actual prelude to sitting. Until then, I’ll just keep being green and seeing where my heart will take me.
~ NAMASTE ~
Seekers and Teachers on Day 10 January 20, 2011
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Day 10
“As the two of us stretched and shared for 90 minutes each morning, I’d get the strangest feeling that there were four of us there, two teachers and two students: me teaching Dolly yoga techniques, Dolly teaching me the value of laughter, spontaneity, nonjudgement, trust – and so much more. Then we’d slip out of our roles and slip into meditation, the four of us becoming two, becoming one.”
– Robbie Williams in an article about teaching yoga to Country & Western musicians (Yoga Journal, Nov-Dec 1984)
We are all seekers; we come to yoga for different reasons. A lot of times we come because we want to fix something – physically, mentally, or emotionally – and either a doctor or someone we admire has recommended yoga. Sometimes we want the practice to be magical, miraculous even – and sometimes it feels like it. Ultimately, however, the desired results come when someone practices a series or a pose, for an extended period of time, without attachment to the outcome.
Lessons about continuous practice (abhyasa) without attachment (vairagya) are found in the Yoga Sutras (I:12 – 15). These lessons are also found in every class room, where the seekers become the teachers. And I’m not just talking about the people who lead the practice; I’m talking about the so-called “students” who come back, again and again, week after week, day after day. The people who inspire others because of their devotion and enthusiasm for the practice, these are the teachers in the room.
The fact that we are all seekers, as well as teachers, was the message from my morning practice and the classes I taught today. The focus was on being guided by the ultimate teacher, the teacher who is within. I could have easily quoted Rainer Maria Rilke for this class, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to celebrate the Dolly Lama’s birthday!
I can’t exactly call myself an uber-fan when it comes to Dolly Parton, but I like her and I can’t imagine being in a room with her for two seconds and not smiling. I also can’t imagine being a room with her for two minutes and not laughing. Plus, she’s inspiring. She is unapologetic about where she comes from, what she looks like, or how she sounds. There’s a lesson in that. She believes in having fun and being passionate about something. There’s a lesson in that. She’s also a lesson in giving and in looking within for the answers we seek. That last part is key, because (again) we are our own ultimate teacher. We just have to take the time to do a little self-study.
The videos for days 8, 9, and 10 of the Yoga Journal 21-Day Challenge were the same sequences presented on the first three days of the challenge. Repeating sequences is great opportunity to turn inward, do that little bit of self-studying, and note how the sequences felt this week compared to last week. For anyone keeping track, it’s interesting to note how other activities affect the way we feel while practicing the asanas. Last week, for instance, I did a lot of upper body work and some fairly intense core work in my classes. I also meditated and ate after the practice. When I got to Rebecca Urban’s core sequence on the evening of Day 3, I appreciated it, but I barely felt it. This week, I had fewer classes and the sequence I taught (and practiced) had a little more intense arm balancing. Most of the abdominal work came from laughing – which means the 60-minute class got more than me or the 45-minute class. Also, I ate dinner several hours before I meditated and then practicing with the video. The end result? This week I really felt it.
Again, I’m looking forward to repeating this sequence – and maybe putting it together with another sequence. (I have it on good authority that Day 11 is different from Day 4, so maybe I’ll wait before I start mixing and matching.) Another thing I’ve noted is that the sequences so far have been very bottom heavy, meaning the emphasis has been on the lower body. Heaven knows it’s great to prepare the hips and legs for deep seated meditation, but more and more I’m noting how intensely engaged my back muscles have to be to hold a seated position for an extended period of time. Even though I see people in my classes, all the time, slumped over while in Sukhasana – and even though I remind them to engage their core muscles (back and front) in order to support a lifted heart – I’ve never been as aware of the engagement in my own mediation practice as I have been this week. Perhaps it’s because I’m meditating more and for longer periods of time. Either way, I’m curious to see how I would feel if I did this core sequence in the early morning and then went directly into my meditation.
I guess there’s only one way to find out. And, in the end, that is the lesson we come back to again and again in yoga: you have to practice, for a continued period of time, without interruption and without attachment.
~ Honor what is within you, and all around you, Namaste ~
Bad Day 9? Practice Enough & Everything Else Disappears January 19, 2011
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Day 9
“Remember to breathe / Remember to hold your head high / Remember to smile some / And just listen awhile / You’ve practiced enough, yeah…. / And that’s when the world seemed to stop.”
– Everything Else Disappears (Sister Hazel)
Life hasn’t really settled down, but it is heading towards what passes for normal. By that I mean, the cattle prod sensation has dissipated and getting up to go to work this morning felt like, well, getting up and going to work. Part of me wanted to stay in bed (you know the drill) and part of me couldn’t wait to hit the mat.
The latter part won out without too much struggle. I was looking forward to repeating the Morning Sequence and also looking forward to the fun sequence I was planning to teach at the studio. Since I wasn’t overly pressed for time, and because I didn’t want to have a lot leftover to do at the end of the night, I sat briefly and then practiced the Morning Sequence with Kate Holcombe as the warm-up/integration to the sequence I was planning to teach. It worked perfectly. One of the things I particularly noticed was how the first part of the video sequence compared to a similar sequence I’ve recently used for integration. The sequence in the video wasn’t a super heat builder, but it nicely integrated the breath, mind, and body. The comparison also made more aware of the subtle movements inherent in a yin practice. I wrapped up with time to spare, but then used up that time making the bathtub a little friendlier. Ironically, I wasn’t as annoyed as I thought I would be when it came time to clean up.
On Tuesdays, I often have a big break between classes. It’s nice, especially on a day like today, to not rush through lunch and to not have to rush from class to class. Of course, the big break also means I’m around a lot more people who don’t practice yoga. Case in point: a woman, babe in arms, who sat next to me on the train and recited a mantra (or was it a litany) of curse words to whomever she was talking to on the phone. I felt bad for her, her son, and for everyone around us. I wanted to suggest she give peace a chance. I also thought, ‘Darn, now her words are going to be stuck in my head.’ But, once she got of the phone, I started humming Daniel Powter’s Bad Day and forgot her angry refrain. Later, as I waited for the bus, I encountered a woman cursing in her car. Again, I felt bad that I couldn’t directly improve her disposition. But, I didn’t feel the need to hang on to the negative encounter. It was just a moment, and then it passed.
Ideally, I wanted to practice the 18-Minute So Hum Meditation during my big break. The only question was: where to sit. Thinking back to last Tuesday, I decided against a super public place and opted to cop a squat at the Downtown Minneapolis YMCA. The studios with doors were all occupied, but I didn’t let that stop me. I found a quiet, partially lit corner in a studio normally used for Step and Body Pump classes. Even though this studio is often used as a dressing room crossover when classes are not in session,.I found it fairly easy to block out the ambient noise and focus on the quiet recording coming from the Pocket Tunes on my phone. When I was done, my legs were no worse for wear and the activity around seemed to magically increase, as if the world had (mostly) stopped and then started up again. Man, I love it when life is like a song!
~ NAMASTE ~
Once More Into The Breach, Dear Friends, It’s Day 8! January 18, 2011
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“In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:”
– William Shakespeare’s Henry V (I:3)
For most of the first week of the Yoga Journal 21-Day Challenge, I was house sitting for a friend. I had tons of space, tons of quiet, and two computers in the room where I practiced the video sequences. didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone, or about being disturbed. The cat and I did not compete for the shower. It was a peaceful way to practice. Yes, the volume was an issue, as was the height of the desk when I was lying on the floor, but I didn’t have any downloading issues and all was good. Despite the fact that I was a little off staying in a new place and working out the logistics of traveling to and from a different home base, it was pretty relaxing. It was almost like a retreat – a retreat with a great view and some really good yoga teachers.
Fast forward to Monday, Day 8 of the challenge. As much as I enjoyed practices led by teachers I had never met, I was itching for a real class with a real live, real time, teacher. Truth be told, I was also itching for something familiar. I got myself geared up to take a class from a teacher who has also been my student and whose class I had sorely missed because of my work schedule during the holidays. I walked into the studio and discovered there was a sub. Still, I was excited, because the sub was someone I’d met and from whom I had hoped to take a class. The schedule just hadn’t worked out.
As the class started, my body warmed up; my mind focused on the breath; and the movement; I smiled some and I was glad to be right there, right then. Suddenly, about midway through the Sun Salutations, I found myself in the middle of a “let go of what you know” moment. Or maybe, instead of calling it a moment, I should call it a battle. Or a war.
My breath stayed steady throughout the practice. However, as we proceeded my body felt more and more out of balance; my mind started to fluctuate; and I couldn’t let go of the sensation that things were going downhill fast. Watching me, the teacher probably had no idea I was fighting – and failing – to stay on my mat. As I made my way through some fairly challenging asanas, I doubt anyone in the room was aware that I just wanted to shout, “Are you kidding me?!?!” and then storm out of the room.
Contrary to what I wrote yesterday, I didn’t do what I knew would work for me and I didn’t go into an extended Child’s Pose. I wanted to move. I wanted to be open to the moment. So, I took the suggestions, as they were given, until we got to the final supine twist. Then, I just had to do what I had to do: I twisted to the left first, instead of the right. I settled into Savasana, feeling fairly confident that there was a method to the teacher’s “madness” – as well as a message I would have appreciated if it had come by way of a different method. I also realized I hadn’t done myself any favors by being resistant to what was being offered, as it was being offered.
Leaving the studio, my body felt a little cranky and I found myself staring into space. I joked to one of my students that all the “Shoveling Snow Pose” I had to do that afternoon wouldn’t leave me incapacitated, but that the class I took might. Two hours later, when every step felt like someone was poking a cattle prod in my right buttocks, I was no longer laughing. I was trying to figure out how I was going to restore myself.
Even though I didn’t preview any of the videos during Week 1, I was fairly certain the Week 2 videos were in the same order. I was looking forward to doing the Day 1 sequence again, just to see how it would feel after all the other sequences. At least, that’s how I felt before the cattle prod sensation. Afterward, I started reconsidering my options. Part of me really wanted to just flow on my own or stream a vinyasa practice from a teacher with whom I’m familiar. Another part of me really wanted to do the video sequence from Day 4, Day 5, or Day 6 of the challenge. I even considered Day 2, even though it was going to be evening before I could practice. Ultimately, however, I decided to give the sequence from Day 7 another shot. It had, after all, the elements I needed to fix what ailed me.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to the practice until after I left the “retreat.” I had to make space to heal and restore. The tub was less than appealing. And, I hadn’t counted on having problems with the download. I decided it was all for the good. Repeating a section until the video unfroze worked until I realized I was cold – therefore not doing my stiff muscles any favors – and needed to do more. So, based on what I remembered about the video, I started throwing in restorative postures I knew would fit with the sequence and which would help my cranky low back and hips. Throw in a little Supine Pigeon here, a little Supta Padangusthasana there, some twisting and hip flexing, plus Ananstasana Thirty minutes later, the video had only progressed through 11 minutes of the recorded sequence and I was still cold. I did Legs-Up-The Wall, considered staying there for the 18-Minute So Hum meditation, and then decided to do shift into Savasana. There was just no way I could sit for that long and wasn’t sure it was a good time to do an inversion for that long, even a mild one. Once again, I set my alarm for the wrong time and went over.
Oh well, it’s just another day on the mat. In the end, I got through it and I feel peace.
~ Shanti, Shanti, Shanthi ~
On The 7th Day We Rest January 17, 2011
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Day 7
“And God finished on the Seventh Day his work which He had made; and He rested on the Seventh Day from all the work which he had made.
And God blessed the Seventh Day, and sanctified it, because that on it he rested from all his work which God had created in making it.” – Genesis 2:2 – 3
Even people who don’t believe in the Genesis story, typically know the story: the world is created bit by bit, breath by breath, over 6 days and then, on the 7th day, God rested. Religious people in the Judeo-Christian parts of the world celebrate the sabbath, a day of rest, even though they don’t always agree on when the 7th day occurs. And that sacred day of rest has become a part of our profane modern world. At least once a week, it’s nice to rest.
Sunday is usually the end of my work week. I’m usually pretty happy to see the week end. Normally, if I felt the way I did at the end of this Sunday, I would go home, eat, and crash without setting an alarm. I’d bask in the fact that I didn’t have to be anywhere in the morning. Monday, my day of mostly rest, would start as soon as I got home. Today, however, was Day 7 of Yoga Journal’s 21-Day Yoga Challenge; and I still had stuff to do.
After taking care of some housekeeping chores in the morning, I sat for 5 minutes and then started preparing for my class. Ironically (after yesterday’s blog entry), I didn’t spend much of my class prep time doing asana. But I did do a lot more demonstrations during class than I might have done with a different sequence. I felt energized after class and yes – yes! – ready to meditate. Luckily there were no classes directly after my morning class so I plopped myself down on a block and proceeded to do my 18-Minute guided meditation.
I had a whole basketball court sized studio to myself, with morning light streaming through the windows, and it felt super good. So good, that when my alarm didn’t go off at the right time I just kept going. My 18 minutes started drifting towards 30 minutes. My body didn’t complain. Much.
I had two more classes to teach after my lunch break. Despite the fact that I didn’t do a full out asana practice in the morning, I felt focused and ready to go. Ready even, to deal with all that came my way. It was fun. Still, at the end of the day, I was ready to crash. Ready to rest. An evening practice should have felt perfect. Oddly enough, my body and mind did not cooperate.
I got home a little earlier than usual and decided to read for a few minutes. No problem there. I was relaxed, but not overly sleepy and had no problem focusing – or sitting still. However, when it came time to do the 20-Minute Evening Sequence with Kate Holcombe I felt like my skin was crawling. I was restless, cold, and had a hard time keeping still and steady enough to do the practice. Time and time again, I wanted to either move more – and do something a little more vigorous – or move less, and go directly into Savasana. I tried a little bit of both, but I had a hard time enjoying the practice.
Don’t get me wrong: the practice itself was fine. I’ve done different elements of this practice before and I really enjoy doing a little restorative yoga. The instruction was clear and precise. It should have been one of those sublime experiences. Especially since, here was the Savasana I’ve been begging for all week! Tonight, however, I needed a little something different. I stuck with it, because part of my commitment was to do the video sequences. If this had been a class in a studio, with a live teacher , however, I would have modified the practice. If I had just committed myself to being on the mat for 21 days, I also would have modified more or called it a day since I did the meditation early in the day. Either way, today became my own personal reminder of what I tell my students all the time: Sometimes practicing yoga is not about practicing asana. Sometimes union comes with rest.
~ Shanti, Shanti, Shanthi ~
Day 6, If Thinking Makes It So, So Be It January 16, 2011
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Day 6
“All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become. “ – Guatama Siddharta, Buddha
“Our limitations and success will be based, most often, on your expectations for ourselves. What the mind dwells upon, the body acts upon.” – Denis Waitley
I am constantly amazed at how the mind works. The Yoga Sutra describes the 5 ways we think: correct perception, incorrect (or mistaken) perception, imagination, deep sleep, and memories. Patanjali explains in this same section that these thoughts, or perceptions, can be afflicted or free of affliction (YS I:5 – 6). It’s more than Cogito, Ergo Sum or even Dubito, Ergo Cogito, Ergo Sum. It’s Cogito Ergo Mundo Est: I think therefore the world (my version of reality) exists.
Sometimes we find out our perception of a situation is incorrect. It can be a devastating discover. No matter how much the realization shakes us, however, we ultimate fail or succeed based on our ability to accept the truth, recover from our mistake, and keep moving. Equally fascinating is what happens when we make a decision to do something, fully commit, and – in doing so – discover that everything around us seems to adjust to make space for our commitment. The world changes, reality shifts, all because we made up our mind.
Over the last 6 days, I have settled into a routine. I’m not sure how I feel about it; other than that I am astounded at how my schedule has shifted and coalesced around my commitment to Yoga Journal’s 21-Day Challenge. I drag myself out of bed every morning; mediate for 5 minutes (or not, depending on how many times I hit the snooze); prepare for my classes by practicing 30 – 90 minutes; rush off to teach my classes; and then round off my day with the video sequence, the 18-minute So Hum mediation, and a blog entry. In between, I deal with the rest of my life – which includes dealing with the snow. It hasn’t even been a full week yet (unless you count Day 0) and every day is different, but this is the schedule that seems to work. Sometimes I consider changing it. Other times I am content to let it evolve. At all times I am committed to the process, and the challenge.
Today, Day 6, is one of those days when I considered change and, in doing so, almost faltered. By the time I got home I was exhausted – and fighting it. At some point I recognized the pointlessness of not taking a nap. Still, because I hadn’t done the video sequence for the day or the mediation, I fought my body’s desire for sleep. Needless to say, I lost that fight. I woke up much later than I would have if I had set an alarm, but I was rested. Even though I woke up and accepted the need for a nap, Part of me dreaded pulling up the video. I wasn’t sure I could handle an intense practice and definitely didn’t need anything invigorating. Something restorative, I thought, would be nice right about now.
And this is when my thought manifested itself in the form of Rebecca Urban’s 30-Minute Tension Release Hip Openers. I couldn’t have asked for a better practice – oh, wait, I did ask for it! This was no slacker practice. It combined a sublime amount of surrender, hip flexion, and hip extension with just enough intensity and challenge. And even though I’d put my hips and hamstrings through the proverbial wringer for the last two days, my whole lower body felt nurtured and encouraged.
Towards the beginning of the sequence I wondered why this practice didn’t precede the one for Hanumanasana. By the end of the practice I realized it was a sequence that could be used to integrate the body for a peak pose like Hanumanasana; it could be expanded into a longer span of time; or it could be used as the surrender portion at the end of an intense vinyasa practice. It could also be practiced as it is; and what a wonderful thing it is.
My body felt ready for Savasana. It also felt ready for the seated meditation. My mind…well, that’s a story for another day.
~ NAMASTE ~
Day 5, One Giant Leap For Yogi-kind January 15, 2011
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(or, How Small Steps Lead To A Giant Leap)
I was super excited to wake up Friday morning and discover the Day 5 video featured Elise Lorimer working towards Hanumanasana. The story of Hanuman is one of my favorites and I’ve told or referenced the story on more than one occasion while teaching the pose. But, as much as I love the story and the benefits of the pose, I suck at the full expression. I always have; even as a pre-teen gymnast I sucked at doing the splits. In fact, there’s a Junior High year book picture of me on a Maryland gymnastics team and to this day I cringe when I see it because I’m not the girl doing the splits. Still, I teach the pose because (a) even the modified version (or Hanuman prep, as I call it) can be incredibly beneficial; (b) I love the story; and (c) some of my students have incredible Hanumanasana practices.
Given my affinity for the story and my on-going struggle with the pose itself, I wanted to do the practice first thing in the morning. I was further inspired because I was already planning to include the pose in my Saturday morning class. But, I had early AM obligations – specifically, getting ready for my regular Friday classes. I spent the morning practicing a sequence inspired by the ruminations I had after finishing the Day 4 Standing Pose sequence. The irony of the way I work is that I was inspired by a 30-minute practice, but I wished I had more than 60 minutes to teach (and practice) the resulting class. This only makes sense when you know that sometimes I think like a Faulkner novel.
At the end of another snowy day I set up to practice the video. Keep in mind that my day included a little slipping and sliding, a little dancing, a practice set of Hanumanasana – just to give myself a base line, and another set of “Shoveling Snow Pose”. For whatever irrational reason, a part of my brain expected the sequence to be so overwhelmingly powerful that I would melt into the full expression like butter. Right. Keep dreaming.
The reality is that no one melts into the full expression of Hanumanasana. Even people who make it look effortless, do the work. They practice – if not every day, then every chance they get – and part of the practice is the process, the krama, those small sequential steps that lead to a giant leap.
True, there are some incredibly flexible people on the planet – and most of them are kids – but even Gumby Jr. has to practice the splits in order to do the splits. Choosing Hanumanasana as a peak pose for this challenge was brilliant, because it simultaneously reinforces the power of a sequence to open the body into a particular pose, as well as the need to dedicate one’s self to regular practice. Also, because it is such an extreme pose, it’s a great opportunity to tune into the body. Elise Lorimer’s practice highlighted all the muscle groups engaged in Hanumanasana. When I reached that peak pose, I didn’t melt into the full expression. I did, however, ease into my deepest expression at that moment. Ultimately, being where you are in the moment is what it’s all about.
Is it my imagination or are the Savasana moments getting longer? Even though I know the videos are pre-recorded, I feel like the universe is responding to my comments about the lack of Savasana. Tonight, I was more than ready for a little moment of reclined stillness. I stayed a few minutes past the end of the video and then sat for the 18-minute So Hum meditation I’ve been doing. My whole body felt prepared and, even though I was tired, I managed to finish the meditation in pretty good shape. Again, my legs felt divine and I’m looking forward to tomorrow.
~ NAMASTE ~
Day 4, Rooting Down January 14, 2011
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Day 4, Rooting Down
Everybody has a day that reinforces the need for a day off. Sometimes it’s a Saturday. For most of my adult life it’s been Monday. This week it was also Thursday. I woke up early with what I consider a primal urge to cuddle…barring that, to huddle under the covers. (Maybe today some part of me knew it was going to snow and just wanted to hibernate.) Either way, once reality sets in and I realize I have to get up, I sit and breath.
Again, whether we realize it or not, I think that urge to pause, sit and breath is primal. Even my house-mate does it. Sometimes we don’t even realize we do it; which means we miss a significant moment to clear the fuzz from our brain, wake up (literally and figuratively), and start the day fresh.
Prior to starting Yoga Journal’s 21-Day Yoga Challenge, I started most days by formally sitting and breathing for at least 5 minutes. I say “formally,” but it wasn’t anything fancy. Sometimes I added a mantra, pranayama, or guided myself through a meditation. But, more often than not I just observed my breath, reminded myself I was not thinking. Since I planned on doing the 17-minute So Hum meditation during the challenge, I figured I would skip the 5 minutes at the beginning of my day.
Skipping my 5 minutes at the top of the morning worked OK for Days 1 – 3, but today I had to hit the floor running – that is, of course, after the cuddling and huddling. So, Day 4 started with 5 minutes of sitting and breathing. Once the fuzz cleared, I headed out to teach. While I demonstrated some of the poses during class, I really didn’t practice any asana until the end of the day. (Unless, of course, you count “Shoveling Snow Pose.”)
The 30-minute Standing Poses sequence with Jason Crandell was amazing. Just as advertised, the focus was on aligning and refining. I had several a-ha moments as a student, but even more as a teacher. (As in, “A-ha, that’s how I fix that sassy hip problem I see in class all the time.) Granted, there was at least one time when I thought, “Yeah, I get why he’s doing it that way, and I’ll try it, but I don’t see myself practicing that on a regular basis.” Of course, I’ve said that about certain alignment techniques before and then blissfully eaten my words. Since steady practice (abhyasa) and self-study (svadhyaya) are key elements of yoga, it’s not enough to just do it – you have to actually practice something to see if and how it works. Anyone interested in deepening an existing practice, reviving a practice, or starting brand new should consider the Day 4 sequence one of those “keepers” on which you can build a life’s worth of practice.
My legs felt phenomenal, and more than ready for 17-minutes of deep seated meditation. No fidgeting today! I’m use to a lot more upper body engagement during my daily yoga practice, so I found I had to be much more conscious about holding my arms and torso in the proper alignment. But, that’s not a bad thing. In fact, today’s practice reinforced the fact that the physical practice is intended to prepare the mind-body-spirit for deep seated meditation.
The fact that our physical practice should prepare us for deep seated meditation is something we hear (as students) and say (as teachers) all the time. Still, I always wonder how many people in the modern world – especially here in the Americas – are actually following their physical practice with an extended meditation. If we did, I wonder how our physical practice would change.
~ NAMASTE ~
A Joyful Practice 