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30 Days of… April 1, 2014

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 31-Day Challenge, Changing Perspectives, Donate, Fitness, Food, Health, Karma, Karma Yoga, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Twin Cities, Volunteer, Yoga.
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In 1557, Thomas Tusser wrote, “Sweet April showers/Do spring May flowers.” It was a reminder that wonderful things are coming.

However, after this winter I’m pretty much done with delayed gratification – I want every day to not only reminder me of better days, I want it to be a better day! So, this April please join me in 30 fun filled days of….

 

Yoga (30 Poses in 30 Days)

Poetry

Biking*

Tacos

Gratitude

Feel free to comment are what you’re going to enjoy over the next 30 days!

*Small print: I’m being very creative about my “biking”!

 

it’s a small world, after all April 6, 2013

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Buddhism, Donate, Faith, Fitness, Health, Hope, Karma, Karma Yoga, Love, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Music, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Surya Namaskar, Texas, Tragedy, Twin Cities, Volunteer, Writing, Yoga.
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Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It’s a small small world

~ lyrics by brothers Robert B. and Richard M. Sherman

In preparation for the 1964 New York World’s Fair, Walt Disney  approached his staff songwriters and asked for one song to represent and honor the children of the world. No small task – for a couple of adults to pen words that could easily and succinctly sum up all the joys and sorrows of being a kid, in any country, in any culture, and in any language. But, somehow, the Sherman brothers did it. And, what started off as the theme song for the 1964 UNICEF pavilion sponsored by Pepsi, became one of the most recognizable and most translated songs in the world, as well as the signature and title of a popular boat ride featured in five (5) Disney Parks and Resorts worldwide.
And, every once in a while, something happens to remind us that it is a small world, after all.
Take yesterday, for instance: one of my regulars mentioned that the the Gorilla Yogis have an event coming up related to a kid in the Cities who needs a kidney transplant. She couldn’t remember the date (Saturday, April 13th) or the the kid’s name, but I wondered if maybe – just maybe – it was a Certain kid in particular.

it’s a world of laughter, a world or tears
it’s a world of hopes, its a world of fear

To the best of my knowledge, I have never met Ali Certain. We both teach yoga in the Twin Cities, share students and acquaintances, and several years ago I tried to take a class from her (but picked one of the few weekends she was out of town for a yoga intensive). I first heard about Ali because she is a certified Anusara teacher and I was curious about this practice that started in my old stomping ground. Despite the fact that I started my practice in Texas (and am in The Woodlands, Texas once a year), I’ve only ever practiced Anusara in the Twin Cities – and my initial practices were with Anusara-inspired teachers working on their certifications. I appreciated the practice, definitely got a lot out of it, but when I stopped going to Anusara classes at Nokomis Yoga I put the idea of practicing with Ali in the back of mind. When her name came up, I would think, ‘Oh yeah, I need to make time to check her out.’ Then I’d go back to my regular practice.
Fast forward several years, and I notice that one of the Anusara teachers who use to be at Nokomis, and who now resides in New York, had included a link to “A Certain Kind of Kidney” in her gmail chat status.

I clicked. I read a little of a post. Thought about three women from my teacher training – one who received a kidney from a living, non-relative; one who donated; one whose loved one was saved. Looked at pictures of this little boy Jack, who seems too cute and too alive to be so sick. And then…

I stopped reading what was then the most recent post. I went back to the beginning of the blog, the beginning of the story. I realized that even though I’ve never met this kid, we have less than six degrees of separation – we have a connection though his mother, through the yoga community, and through at least 4 states.

That connection made me wonder if I, or someone I know, has that certain kind of kidney.

there’s so much that we share
that it’s time we’re aware
it’s a small world after all

Most people are born with two (2) kidneys; however, most of us can live relatively normal lives with just one. Sure, if you donate a kidney, you’re probably going to have to give up contact sports. But, that doesn’t mean you can’t be physically fit and it doesn’t mean you can’t engage in vigorous activity. What it does mean is that you could save a life.

And who knows how that life could impact the world.

Of course, everybody doesn’t have Type O Blood (which is one of the requirements to donate to Jack) and everybody isn’t ready to be a living donor. According to LivingDonorsOnline, being ready means you are intellectually, emotionally, physically, financially, and spiritually prepared for the all the donation entails.

However, not being ready to be a “living donor” doesn’t mean you have nothing to share.

There is just one moon and one golden sun
And a smile means friendship to everyone.

Every time we step on a yoga mat, practice a sun salutation, let our hearts shine in a half moon, or smile in Balasana or Savasana, we are connected to people we may never meet. We have an opportunity to send a little hope and healing energy to someone who may be feeling puny or in need of a hug. We become part of a community, a village – which (to paraphrase the African proverb) can save a child.

And when you step on the mat at a Gorilla Yogis’ event, you get the chance to harness and magnify the power of that karmic connection by  a making a physical/energetic/spiritual contribution – as well as a financial contribution – to a really great cause. Plus, it’s super fun!

 

If for some reason you are unable to join the Gorilla Yogis at the Thorp Building and Central Business Center (1620 Central Ave NE, Minneapolis) next Saturday afternoon, April 13th at 1 PM, please consider spending some time on your mat (somewhere, anywhere!) – and making a donation to Jack’s GoFundMe account. If you want more information about live kidney donations, check out The National Kidney Foundation’s website.

 

~ IF YOU ARE READING THIS, YOU ARE PART OF JACK’S VILLAGE! ~

108 Sun Salutations? Check! Now What? January 3, 2013

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 108 Sun Salutations, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Fitness, Food, Health, Hope, Japa, Japa-Ajapa, Karma, Mala, Mantra, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Music, New Year, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Surya Namaskar, Twin Cities, Writing, Yoga.
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Practicing 108 Sun Salutations is the marathon of yoga. Of course, if you’ve never trained and then run a marathon, your body doesn’t know the difference. So, when you’re done, treat yourself as if you just ran 26 miles. Smile, breathe, and congratulate yourself. Maybe go out for some pasta. Definitely take Kathy T’s advice and enjoy an unapologetic 108-minute nap. (Best advice ever!!!)

Then what?

For your body

Relax and pamper yourself. Some research shows ice baths are helpful after a major endurance event. But, if you’re injury free, I’m all about keeping the muscles warm. Especially when it’s sub-0 outside the studio! So, indulge in a hot shower; soak in the tub with your favorite bath salts or bubbles; or combine one of the above with some time in the sauna or whirlpool. Take a restorative or yin yoga class to support and encourage deep tissue relaxation. For the ultimate indulgence, combine all of the above with a massage.

Literally and figuratively, put your feet up. Every pose in the sequence requires you to engage your feet and legs, while simultaneously activating your hips and core muscles. Decompress the lower body parts by spending some time in Viparita Karani (“Legs-Up-the-Wall”). This is a mild inversion that you can adjust as needed. If the shoulders and neck are out of sorts, place a blanket underneath the upper back. If the shoulders, hips, and low back need more tension release, elevate the sacrum and hips with a blanket, block, and/or a bolster. Keep the legs extended if you need the hamstring stretch. However, if they are already feeling overstretched after 216+ forward bends, release the hamstrings by bending the knees at a 90 degree angle and resting the shins on a chair, sofa, bench, or table. If it’s in your practice, explore more inversions.

A little hair of the dog is always good, but don’t go whole hog. Try Surya Namaskar C with Inch Worm and a modified Crescent (to stretch the psoas and quadricep of the back leg). Adding Chest Expansion to the lunge creates a nice stretch through the upper chest, shoulders, and a baby back bend for the low back.

Most importantly, listen to your body. When I finished the practice just before midnight on December 31st, my body was screaming for Gomukhasana (“Cow Face Pose”) legs. The next morning, when I could actually walk, I was really glad I listened. The second day after my practice, I added Garudasana (“Eagle Pose”) arms and Gomukhasana arms to the seated pose.

For your mind

Spend some quiet time just breathing, or contemplating how you felt before, during, and after the practice. A lot of people, myself included, expressed a little anxiousness before the practice. Take a moment to consider how much of the anxiety was fear of the unknown and fear of “failing,” and how much was actually anxiety about letting go.

Consider the different variations and dedications, as well as how you reacted to each. Look back over any notes you made; maybe make some more.

Request additional information about something that was said or done, or music that was played during the practice.

For your spirit

Be still. Soak up, celebrate, and appreciate all you did. Give yourself permission to express any emotions that came up during or after the practice. Recognize that some of your emotional responses are going to come down the road. Notice them; acknowledge them; and honor them.

Review your sankalpa (“vow”, “intention”) and your guiding principle statements. Notice if the still resonate. The intention of the meditation was to start the process of setting an intention. What you wrote or thought during the practice was a first draft. Maybe it worked right off the bat. But if your tongue or mind tripped over the words, then or now, restate it.

Finally, remember that the sankalpa is not intended as a simple affirmation. It’s part of your heart song and it’s a message meant to be sent and received internally. If you meditate or pray, include the words in your mind the next time you sit, kneel, or walk. The next time you practice yoga, think of the words during your Savasana. The vow is particularly powerful when used during Yoga Nidra; so, find or download a class and relax your way to your goal!

For the teacher inside you

Notice where you felt the practice, physically and emotionally. Notice where you didn’t feel it. Being sore after the practice is a common experience; you’ve worked every part of your body, after all, and in some cases you’ve worked harder than normal. And everything you did before the practice was part of your training. The question is: how good was your training? Did you remember to bend your knees – or are your hamstrings sore because you forgot to bend your knees? How’s your core? Do your shoulders and low back ache because you worked the muscles in a different way? How are your feet, hips, and knees? What about your wrists and neck? How many of the 14 muscles in your shoulder girdles feel good versus stressed, sore, or fatigued?

OK, to be fair, that last question was my favorite trick question. Most of us don’t even realize we have 14 muscles in each of our shoulders. The point isn’t (necessarily) to identify them so much as to notice how you feel and to note if your are sore (or not) because you were ready for the practice (or not) or because at some point along the way you forgot to be mindful of your alignment.

Finally, noticing how you feel after practicing 108 Sun Salutations, along with the counterposes, gives you a good indication of what parts of your practice are working and where you can focus a little more awareness during the new year. Talk to your yoga teachers about what poses or sequences can help you build strength or flexibility in your weak areas.

For the teacher who led you

No matter where or when you practice, the person (or people) leading the practice will appreciate your feedback.

The 2013 Nokomis Yoga New Year’s practice was a first for many in my circle and a “multi-first” for me! While I have practiced and co-led 108 Sun Salutations at the YMCA for the Spring and Fall Equinoxes, this was my first time leading solo; my first time doing all 108 at Nokomis; and my first New Year’s practice with the guided meditation. Since I would love to do it again, please let me know how it felt for you. If you have a moment (now, or over the next 12 months), please let me know (via e-mail or comment on the blog) what you liked or didn’t like; what resonated and what fell flat; what you appreciated – even if you didn’t like it; and whether or not you would join me again for this type of event. I know Solveig would also appreciate a review for Nokomis Yoga, if you are on google+.

Many thanks and blessings to the 22 incredible people who shared their New Year’s Day with me. I feel honored and humbled to be a small part of your practice and I appreciate the energy and joy you put into the occasion.


~ Check out Tara Woltjen’s 2011 post on the Surya Namaskar backstory and for the wonderful poem “A Prayer to the Light” (which coincides so beautifully with the practice I included it in our "mindfulness round"). ~

Didn’t make it to a New Year’s Mala practice on January 1st? There’s still time! Several studios (including taraNa in Minneapolis) are hosting the practice on Saturday, January 5th!

Still sore? Recovery 108 is currently password protected.

~ Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanthi Om ~

LOOKING FOR ANSWERS WITHIN THE QUESTIONS December 16, 2012

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Books, Changing Perspectives, Faith, Fitness, Health, Hope, Karma, Karma Yoga, Mantra, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Music, Pain, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Suffering, Tragedy, Twin Cities, Uncategorized, Writing, Yoga.
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Q & A

Anyone who comes to my class knows I love stories. And, they can also tell you: I am an equal opportunity storyteller. This time of year is full of some of my favorite stories. Take Chanukah, for instance: within this celebration of light is the story of “Not Much,” the story of “Give It All You’ve Got,” and an opportunity to explore the original meaning of the word “miracle.” On Wednesday people all over the world were looking for and/or celebrating miracles. It wasn’t just that some people saw 12/12/12 as an auspicious date; it was also the middle of Chanukah, the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and the beginning of the Baha’i month of Masa’il (“Questions”).

Personally, I was excited, all fired up, inspired and ready for an “intensely fun, intensely intense” practice on Saturday.

Then, on Friday night, when I heard about yet another mass shooting and a death in my family, I was having a hard time focusing on fun.

It doesn’t matter if it’s today; yesterday; almost 2, 311 years ago (around 300 BCE); or nearly 100 years before that, when bad things happen we question. However, our questions don’t just stop with, “Why?” or “How could this happen?”

The closer we are to the tragedy; the bigger the scale of the tragedy; or the more innocent the people involved, the more we question. Sometimes, we question everything we believe to be true. We may question our faith, the very foundation of our existence, the things (literally and figuratively) that support us when we struggle. And, more often than not, we seek answers from that same foundation or truth – be it God, science, our leaders, or our community.

In every culture and in every heart, there is a word for that ultimate truth; for that something universal within us, and all around us. (Even science has subatomic particles that are in everything.) And in every heart, there is a question we can direct to that source, a question, which can also be an answer.

מכבים      गायत्री

In Exodus 15, “Moses and the sons of Israel,” sing the praises of God to God and in doing so they cite a number of marvels (also known as miracles). When a band of brothers/a father and his sons/a clan of priests chose Maccabee as their moniker and battle cry, they not only used a variation of a word meaning “hammer,” they used an acronym for a Torah verse (Shemot/Exodus 15:11): “Who is like You…among the mighty? Glorious in holiness fearful in praises, performing wonders (miracles)?”

The Maccabees took their question to the source and within the question they found their answer: the source. They also found inspiration.

I think what they did is similar to what Rainer Maria Rilke means in Letters to a Young Poet, when he writes, “Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you will not be able to live them…. Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers.”

My plan for today’s practice: Embody a question (addressed to the source) that simultaneously inspires and answers. Everyone would have their own personal question(s) and their own way of articulating “the source.” The tricky part would be getting everyone on the same wavelength.

In yoga, we talk about the light (or energy) within us, and all around us. When we move through our physical practice, our physical focus may change from moment to moment, but we have the opportunity to maintain a single-pointed mental focus, a meditation point. Adding mantra to our movement can strength our focus, and get us all on the same wavelength.

Today, I used the Gayatri Mantra to get us on the same wavelength.

People using a mantra for seated meditation often use a mala (“garland” or “ring”) to maintain japa (“repetition” or “remembering”) without excess effort (ajapa-japa or “constant awareness”). In the physical practice, using kirtan (mantra with music) is a great way to achieve a similar meditative state. More often than not, when I use kirtan in a class, the sequencing is progressive in the sense that each time we complete a cycle we begin it again and then add an additional pose or two. Occasionally, I will even get “asana-happy” (or maybe it’s “prana-happy”) and sequence in a mandala (“circle”).

Today, I wanted to go even deeper. Inspired by this idea of living the question, addressed to the source, I took another look at the Gayatri Mantra itself.

When I’ve used the Gayatri Mantra in the past, I’ve emphasized various translations and focused on the story of Visvamitra, the sage responsible for the mantra, and the peak pose named after him. But, this time I looked at the structure of the mantra.

One of the unique aspects of the Gayatri Mantra is its most common name comes from its meter. When in Sanskrit, a “great utterance” is followed by three (3) eight-syllable lines (padas or “feet”). What happens, I wondered, if an extended inclined sequence was followed by three (3) sequences, which each contained eight poses or pose variations? And what would happen if all the sequences put together made up a mandala? And what would happen if the repetition of the mandala prepared us for Visvamitrasana? And can I even get a room full of completely different bodies and practices to the point where their hips, hamstrings, shoulders, triceps/biceps, back, and core (not to mention their wrists) can even safely consider the possibility?

So many questions…that today become so many answers.

When we are moved to move, and we move to seek answers within ourselves, do we become the answer? When we live the question, as Rilke suggests, and our question is, “What can we do to make things better, brighter, to change this great wrong or keep it from happening again?” do we become the change?

OFF THE MAT

Right now, lots of people are asking questions and calling for change, personally and globally. Lots of people are also insisting they know all the answers – sometimes insisting so fervently, in fact, that they can’t even hear themselves let alone the people around them.

I’m not claiming to have any answers…just more questions. I also have a desire to be still and quiet enough to hear all the answers when they come.

And, just like I do when I am seeking guidance, answers, and inspiration from the source of all things, I think some of our questioning and listening needs to be focused on the people who are the source of these tragedies, people who are in so much pain they want to hurt themselves and the people around them.

Finally, I hope that when the right answers come, we are strong enough, wise enough, and courageous enough to recognize and live those answers.

Vinyasa Class Notes

Key Asana Sequence: Anjaneyasana (“Crescent Lunge”) with Inverted Namaskar to Anjaneyasana to Modified Virabhadrasana III (“Warrior III”) to 3 variations of Virabhadrasana III to Urdhva Prasarita Eka Padasana (“Standing Splits”) with Squats, Seated Sage Twist, and Gomukhasana (“Cow Face”)

Song(s) That Had To Make The Cut: multiple versions “Gayatri Mantra”

Song(s) Played Loud For Motivation: multiple versions of “Gayatri Mantra”

Song(s) Related To Theme (if you think about it): “Princes of the Universe” by Bear McCreary

Interested in harnessing the power of movement, mantra, and music? Click here to find out how people all over the world will celebrate New Year’s Day!

~ NAMASTE ~

Day 19 Gets Us Closer To The Other Side January 29, 2011

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 21-Day Challenge, Changing Perspectives, Donate, Fitness, Health, Karma, Karma Yoga, Mantra, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Music, Peace, Philosophy, Science, Texas, Twin Cities, Volunteer, Writing, Yoga.
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Day 19

“There are only two types of people in a kayak – those who just got wet, and those who’re about to get wet.” – Bob Patman


“I learned perseverance is a quality I do not fully comprehend the depths of, but that to ever have a chance at comprehension requires a decision to explore.” – Chris Scotch


“I have no doubt you can muscle through…the question is do you have the courage to practice a little peace, to breath your way into a deeper expression.” – me, paraphrasing Mairead Corrigan Maguire


Everybody hits the wall sometime. It’s just a matter of time if you’re putting your endurance to the test. And, it doesn’t matter if you are a professional athlete; a weekend warrior running/walking/rolling/biking for a good cause; or a yogi(ni) taking Yoga Journal’s 21-Day Challenge, at some point you face the fear that it was all for not and you’re not going to make it.

Week 3 of this challenge has, quite possibly, been the most amazing – but it’s also been the most challenging. Even as I got up and got on the mat every day, even as I loved the moments and the awakenings, I started to doubt that I was going to get through it. I started to fear that I was going to oversleep – or fall asleep – or just plan give out. I was hitting the wall.

The funny thing is, I realized that (in this case) the wall was partially of my own making. From the very beginning, I knew that part of my challenge was going to be this blog. I wanted to get some momentum going and get back to writing. I wanted to get past the idea that every entry had to be perfect and erudite. I had to get past the feeling that I didn’t have time – and couldn’t make time. All of this I knew from the beginning. I also knew that it was going to be my little secret. It was going to be the “other stuff” I alluded to on Day 1. And, if I missed a day here or there, no one would be the wiser. So, even though I knew my intention – I didn’t really put it out there. I didn’t mention the blog to anyone I knew until Week 2, and I didn’t encourage anyone to read it until Week 3. Naturally, the minute I opened my big mouth about what I was doing, it became harder to do. I started building the wall.

I could blame the wall on lack of sleep; it’s a common malady. But, every morning I managed to get up and do something. Including this morning, when I felt like staying in bed and chilling out with a good book. Don’t get me wrong. This wasn’t a depressing “I don’t wanna get up, I’m a Toys’RUs kid….” kind of morning. This was a righteous “Wow, I feel so good all tucked in!” kind of morning. I hit the snooze once, maybe twice, and then I got up and sat for 5 minutes. Once my head was clear, I checked my e-mail, reviewed the events of the day, and thought about what I’d led in class earlier in the week and last Friday.

Sometimes I plan out my classes weeks in advance, sometimes mere days; but sometimes I wake up in the morning, toss the plan out, and start anew. This was one of those start anew mornings; I felt compelled to practice a little peace. So, I futzed around with a playlist, a sequence, and a theme I used this time last year. Then I considered how I wanted it to work given how I felt and what I’ve learned over the last year. All of this was in my head, but once I got on the mat I let the breath take over. I let the breath become the wall – and suddenly, I was going over the wall. I was having fun, feeling good, and more or less ready for my day.

I taught 3 classes today and although they were all centered around the “Peace People” theme and sequence, they were very different classes. The first was the most physically challenging (and, oddly, the smallest group class); the second was a private class with an emphasis on the therapeutic and restorative benefits of the practice; and the third class (which was, oddly, the largest) was another group class made challenging because it was by candlelight. Inevitably, the evening classes are a little slower and, every once in a while, I simplify the transitions or modify the balancing sequences to accommodate the darkness. While they resembled each other, and my own personal practice, none of these classes resembled the practice I did last year to celebrate Mairead Corrigan Maguire’s birthday.

Last year’s sequence was intended to be physically exhausting. I wanted people to struggle. I wanted them to find that place where they had to make a decision: muscle through and not enjoy the practice, or breathe their way into a smile.

This year, I wanted a challenging sequence that would leave everyone with a peaceful feeling. The emphasis was on hip opening and side stretching. I wanted to get at those pesky hamstrings and IT bands, but I also wanted to get in some core work and some arm balancing. During my personal practice, I felt challenged but relaxed – peaceful yet engaged. During the morning class, however, I wondered if the class was a little lighter than people expected (or wanted). Maybe for some it was, but midway through, I looked up and saw sweat sprinkled on one member’s t-shirt while several other members strategically inserted Child’s Pose into their vinyasa. “We are,” I thought, “exactly where we need to be.”

After class, I used one of the battery operated candles for my 18-Minute So Hum Meditation. I felt good, relaxed, steady, and peaceful. I could have easily ended my day here, but I still needed to fulfill the rest of my challenge. So, I headed home to practice the 30-Minute Peak Pose Sequence featuring Wheel Pose with Jason Crandell.

For the record, Crandell rocks my world again and again. I’d like to call him a teacher’s teacher, which he most definitely is, but (to be fair) he’s also an “Everyman’s Teacher.” He systematically opens up the body and fires up muscles even I forgot I had. I modified some of the arm movements just to relieve some tension in my shoulder. Half way through the Sun Salutations, I felt myself drop over the other side of the wall. Somewhere between Bridge Pose and the second or third Wheel Pose, I had not only forgotten about the wall, I had forgotten the fact that I was nursing some tenderness in my shoulder. I can’t say I was ready for a fourth Wheel Pose, which would have been my fifth (or sixth) one of the day, but I did foresee myself going into an expression I’ve only dreamed of taking. Seriously, last week, I had an 8-year old (I think) in my class doing this extended Wheel. Her parents and I joked that we wouldn’t be doing that version anytime soon. Today, however, I could feel myself being ready to do it sooner rather than later.

It was a great feeling. And with that great feeling came an even better reminder: Everybody hits the wall sometime. Just like everyone who spends any significant time in a kayak flips it over. But, it’s nothing to fear. Getting wet is half the fun – it proves you were out there and you were doing it. And once you get back in the boat, you’re on your way; you’re past that moment.

Hitting the wall is the same thing. It’s bound to happen, but it’s nothing to fear. Because, regardless of who you are or what you’re doing, there’s a second wind waiting for you on the other side of that wall. There’s a deeper experience – a deeper expression, one you’ve only imagined in your dreams. One you can only experience if you make the decision to explore.

So, take a deep breath, get wet, persevere, and and get yourself (peacefully) to the other side.


Bob Patman is usually in Texas and Mairead Corrigan Maguire resides in Ireland.
Which begs the question: Where's Chris Scotch?

Well, on Monday, January 31st, Chris will be in International Falls, Minnesota racing in the Arrowhead 270. Send him warm thoughts, big smiles, and, if you're so inclined, help him send some cold hard cash to St. Jude Children's Hospital.

~ Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanthi Om ~

Lucky (Day) 13 January 23, 2011

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 21-Day Challenge, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Fitness, Health, Karma, Mantra, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Movies, Music, Philosophy, Science, Texas, Twin Cities, Yoga.
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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 ~

Seekers and Teachers on Day 10 January 20, 2011

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 21-Day Challenge, Books, Buddhism, Changing Perspectives, Donate, Fitness, Food, Health, Karma, Karma Yoga, Mantra, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Music, Philosophy, Science, Texas, Twin Cities, Volunteer, Yoga.
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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

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 21-Day Challenge, Changing Perspectives, Fitness, Health, Karma, Mantra, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Music, Philosophy, Twin Cities, Yoga.
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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

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in 21-Day Challenge, Books, Changing Perspectives, Fitness, Health, Karma, Mantra, Meditation, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Philosophy, Science, Twin Cities, Yoga.
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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 ~

Looking For Something To Do This Weekend? August 20, 2010

Posted by ajoyfulpractice in Donate, Fitness, Food, Health, Karma, Karma Yoga, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Philosophy, Science, Twin Cities, Volunteer, Yoga.
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Click on the “Karma Yoga” subpage and check out ways to dedicate your efforts to others.