I pulled out my old Flip camera this week (remember those things?) to record a practice class with a few of my trainees. After we were done, I took the camera back to my place and noticed that there were quite a few other videos still on the camera. Naturally, I had to watch them.
They were all from a road trip I had taken with a friend about two years back. I had forgotten about these videos, forgotten about that trip. But also, forgotten about who I was back then. The version of me that danced across the tiny screen was about 30 pounds heavier and, for most of the videos, always holding a beer and a cigarette in my hand.
Then, suddenly, the next video pops up and it's me, now, guiding my friends through a sun salute.
It was a strange experience that's still staying with me a few days later. But it was also a gift. It's so easy to completely disconnect from who we were and where we've come from. Yes, we live in the moment. But that doesn't mean our yester-selves should be ignored. Yoga is about unity - and that means recognizing and honoring where we've come from. There are lots of great practices to help you connect with your past, but I find that one of the simplest ones is to occasionally take some time to go through some old journals, videos and photos to have a physical interaction with the you of yesterday that brought you to the you of today!
I want to cheer for that heavier, intoxicated me - look at what she overcame! I want to say to her, "Hold on to your hat, girl - you have no idea what's in store. And it's awesome!"
How can you honor your yester-you today?
9.0 on the richter scale
on Monday, September 16, 2013
I've been going through a bit of a rough patch this last week after I discovered that a fellow yogi that I dearly respected and a venerated yoga master both turned out to be very, very human (ala John Friend-ish human). I'll admit it - this realization has rocked my foundation and I've been going through a bit of mourning these past few days. I've found myself questioning...everything. After all, what does it mean when the people who practice and teach these principles can't live by them? How can I be inspired to follow something that doesn't appear to work? Especially in the case of the yoga master, this guru, how can I trust his teachings about love when he turned around and created a destructive cult in his wake?
Hilariously enough (almost as if the Universe had planned it...), this all happened just as I was heading into a 3 day intensive workshop with Aadil Palkhiavla. I cried through a good portion of it - not because he was saying anything mind blowing but because I didn't want to be there, facing the very thought system that I was questioning (and sitting beside my former on-a-pedestal friend while he engaged in his very human behavior).
Over lunch, I confessed this to one of my fellow trainees. Confessed? More like moaned and complained. Why? Why are Pastors and Gurus and Priests - why aren't they trustworthy? Why are the very people who are telling us to eat Sattvic foods guzzling beer and eating pizza? Why are the teachers that are teaching us how to overcome ego, walking around with puffed up chests? Why are the ones who are supposed to be guiding us towards Divine love, failing to live it in their own lives?
Her answer was so flippant, I don't think she realized what a force of nature came out of her mouth. She said "The problem is, people want someone to do it all for them. They want someone to say 'Here is how it is. Here is what you do' and then you just do it and then you don't have to think or do any work and you can blame them when it goes wrong."
Oh.
Ohhhhh.
Yes. Of course. It made so much sense, it hurt.
It is not for us to put our very souls into the hands of another. We can look to teachers and priests and gurus for guidance but we must always do the work ourselves. We must always do the work ourselves. We must ask questions, dig deeper, learn the truth and decide for ourselves where to go.
Even in our yoga practice, we can't just do a pose because a teacher says it's good for us. It is up to us to ask and learn more and decide if it really is good for us.
No teacher will be our end all, be all. The buck stops with us. With the Spirit within.
As we returned to class, Aadil brought us around him for a lecture.
"Do you know what Patanjali says the ultimate purpose of yoga is?" he asked in his enthralling voice.
Answers were shouted out like popcorn. "Unity!" "Samadhi!" "Moksha!"
He grinned at us and shook his head. "No, my friends. The ultimate purpose of yoga is discernment."
Discernment. There it was. Right in front me. I felt like I had been led right up to that moment, right to that answer.
I think that's what all this foundation cracking has been about. The Universe has shaken me out of a stupor of blind acceptance and reminded me that the answers are within me.
Hilariously enough (almost as if the Universe had planned it...), this all happened just as I was heading into a 3 day intensive workshop with Aadil Palkhiavla. I cried through a good portion of it - not because he was saying anything mind blowing but because I didn't want to be there, facing the very thought system that I was questioning (and sitting beside my former on-a-pedestal friend while he engaged in his very human behavior).
Over lunch, I confessed this to one of my fellow trainees. Confessed? More like moaned and complained. Why? Why are Pastors and Gurus and Priests - why aren't they trustworthy? Why are the very people who are telling us to eat Sattvic foods guzzling beer and eating pizza? Why are the teachers that are teaching us how to overcome ego, walking around with puffed up chests? Why are the ones who are supposed to be guiding us towards Divine love, failing to live it in their own lives?
Her answer was so flippant, I don't think she realized what a force of nature came out of her mouth. She said "The problem is, people want someone to do it all for them. They want someone to say 'Here is how it is. Here is what you do' and then you just do it and then you don't have to think or do any work and you can blame them when it goes wrong."
Oh.
Ohhhhh.
Yes. Of course. It made so much sense, it hurt.
It is not for us to put our very souls into the hands of another. We can look to teachers and priests and gurus for guidance but we must always do the work ourselves. We must always do the work ourselves. We must ask questions, dig deeper, learn the truth and decide for ourselves where to go.
Even in our yoga practice, we can't just do a pose because a teacher says it's good for us. It is up to us to ask and learn more and decide if it really is good for us.
No teacher will be our end all, be all. The buck stops with us. With the Spirit within.
As we returned to class, Aadil brought us around him for a lecture.
"Do you know what Patanjali says the ultimate purpose of yoga is?" he asked in his enthralling voice.
Answers were shouted out like popcorn. "Unity!" "Samadhi!" "Moksha!"
He grinned at us and shook his head. "No, my friends. The ultimate purpose of yoga is discernment."
Discernment. There it was. Right in front me. I felt like I had been led right up to that moment, right to that answer.
I think that's what all this foundation cracking has been about. The Universe has shaken me out of a stupor of blind acceptance and reminded me that the answers are within me.
The knee bone's connected to the...
on Friday, September 13, 2013
Human anatomy and I have always butted heads. I am entirely made up of bits and pieces that I want to know nothing about because they're ugly, gross, messy, confusing and most especially frustrating because they don't do what they're supposed to and often break down on me. This attitude has worked great for me because our society promotes this way of thinking. We love to focus on the most superficial parts and solutions. Don't ask why you're overweight, breaking out, not sleeping, feeling depressed, having chronic pain. Don't ask what the pill, drink, workout routine, detox program is doing. Just do it and carry on. And if you can, try to look great while pulling it all off.
My disdain for my insides has, of course, hit a roadblock with yoga. Not at first. But the longer you practice, the more you just start noticing what's happening below the surface. It gets harder and harder to ignore as you learn to try making micro movements in your body and feeling the effects. Now, in teacher training, it's impossible to ignore. Anatomy is everywhere and I am knee deep in guts and gore.
And, speaking of knees - this week, I've been learning all about the knee joint. The achy breaky knee joint.
If you're like me that picture is enough to make you want to head-into-sand your way to Facebook, Netflix or Starbucks. But hang with me for one sec.
Check out the white, pink and blue stuff. All that is pretty much the stuff that makes up your knee joint. The blue stuff (meniscus) is kinda like a shock absorber and the pink stuff (ligaments) on the outside and inside keep our knee from going anywhere.
And guess what? None of that is muscle. Which means? Well, it means it doesn't stretch like a muscle. And it means when you injure it, it doesn't heal like a muscle. For the most part, it doesn't heal at all. That's right, once the damage is done, it's done.
Ok ok, you can stop looking at the picture of our squishy insides and think about what the implication of all that. If our joints aren't muscle, it means we can't treat our knees like muscle. But we do. All the time. Anytime we don't focus on the alignment of our knees in asana and especially anytime we force ourselves into a pose that we're not ready for - like virasana or lotus.
When you think about the fragility of your knees, when you picture those teeny-weeny little pink ligaments that you can't replace, does the advanced asana seem so enticing? It doesn't for me. It makes me want to apologize for every yank and pull and twist I ever gave me knees thinking I could force myself do the full asana. It makes me want to go into poses with even more of a gentle spirit, ensuring I give that irreplaceable joint extra love.
So how do you know if you're ready to go further in a pose? Well, it goes back to what I was saying at the beginning. You have to get to know your body. And that just takes time and lots of yoga pratice. The messages are there. Your various pieces of your knees have nerves that can tell you when you're going to far but they can't stop you from pushing the limit. Only you can do that. So next time you're in yoga (or even if you're not) see if you can start to "hear" your knee joint. What's it saying? How can you better support it, to make sure that it serves you for as long as you knee-d it (I had to! I just had to!).
Om Shanti
My disdain for my insides has, of course, hit a roadblock with yoga. Not at first. But the longer you practice, the more you just start noticing what's happening below the surface. It gets harder and harder to ignore as you learn to try making micro movements in your body and feeling the effects. Now, in teacher training, it's impossible to ignore. Anatomy is everywhere and I am knee deep in guts and gore.
And, speaking of knees - this week, I've been learning all about the knee joint. The achy breaky knee joint.
If you're like me that picture is enough to make you want to head-into-sand your way to Facebook, Netflix or Starbucks. But hang with me for one sec.
Check out the white, pink and blue stuff. All that is pretty much the stuff that makes up your knee joint. The blue stuff (meniscus) is kinda like a shock absorber and the pink stuff (ligaments) on the outside and inside keep our knee from going anywhere.
And guess what? None of that is muscle. Which means? Well, it means it doesn't stretch like a muscle. And it means when you injure it, it doesn't heal like a muscle. For the most part, it doesn't heal at all. That's right, once the damage is done, it's done.
Ok ok, you can stop looking at the picture of our squishy insides and think about what the implication of all that. If our joints aren't muscle, it means we can't treat our knees like muscle. But we do. All the time. Anytime we don't focus on the alignment of our knees in asana and especially anytime we force ourselves into a pose that we're not ready for - like virasana or lotus.
When you think about the fragility of your knees, when you picture those teeny-weeny little pink ligaments that you can't replace, does the advanced asana seem so enticing? It doesn't for me. It makes me want to apologize for every yank and pull and twist I ever gave me knees thinking I could force myself do the full asana. It makes me want to go into poses with even more of a gentle spirit, ensuring I give that irreplaceable joint extra love.
So how do you know if you're ready to go further in a pose? Well, it goes back to what I was saying at the beginning. You have to get to know your body. And that just takes time and lots of yoga pratice. The messages are there. Your various pieces of your knees have nerves that can tell you when you're going to far but they can't stop you from pushing the limit. Only you can do that. So next time you're in yoga (or even if you're not) see if you can start to "hear" your knee joint. What's it saying? How can you better support it, to make sure that it serves you for as long as you knee-d it (I had to! I just had to!).
Om Shanti
The yogi love song
on Thursday, September 12, 2013
I had the distinct, indescribable pleasure of seeing the GuruGanesha Band and Deva Premal and Miten earlier this week.
I was never much of a concert person until I discovered the wonderful world of kirtan. There is something so amazing about being vibrated with music that is specifically designed to vibrate in an uplifting way.
Anyway.
I'll save the kirtan talk for later.
During the performance, Miten sang a very beautiful love song to his wife that had us all clutching at our chests and awwwwing.
But afterwards, it made me think - there aren't a lot of love songs about being single. Yes, love songs. There are songs about being single but they're usually angry/sad/bitter songs about the relationship you were in or that you want to be in. Mmmm hmm, shoulda put a ring on it.
It made me think about this blog and about the Yogis of All Shapes and Sizes everywhere. It's hard, it's really hard to speak out for the underrepresented without judgement of the overrepresented. I think the yoga world DOES need more champions of the Yogis of All Shapes and Sizes. But as we throw down the gauntlet we must at the same time strive to refrain from thinking we are better or worse for what we do and who we are and what we're capable of. We must avoid singing the Bitter Single Song about yoga. We, above all others, must avoid it because we are walking the yogic path which teaches us that there isn't anything to gain from judging, there isn't any happiness to be had by achieving or not achieving.
Our goal is to write love songs about being the yogis we are right now because we know that true happiness has nothing to do with our asana. The asana is only there to help us connect with the happiness that lies in the deep inner stillness within. Tomorrow, perhaps we will touch our toes, and the day after we may not. That will not change our love song to the Spirit Within.
Take from me what I want
Take from me what I do
Take from me what I need
Take from me everything that takes me from You
-Mirbai Ceiba
 |
| Hugging GuruGanesha! |
 |
| Chanting Muni Muni Mahamuni with Deva and co. |
I was never much of a concert person until I discovered the wonderful world of kirtan. There is something so amazing about being vibrated with music that is specifically designed to vibrate in an uplifting way.
Anyway.
I'll save the kirtan talk for later.
During the performance, Miten sang a very beautiful love song to his wife that had us all clutching at our chests and awwwwing.
But afterwards, it made me think - there aren't a lot of love songs about being single. Yes, love songs. There are songs about being single but they're usually angry/sad/bitter songs about the relationship you were in or that you want to be in. Mmmm hmm, shoulda put a ring on it.
It made me think about this blog and about the Yogis of All Shapes and Sizes everywhere. It's hard, it's really hard to speak out for the underrepresented without judgement of the overrepresented. I think the yoga world DOES need more champions of the Yogis of All Shapes and Sizes. But as we throw down the gauntlet we must at the same time strive to refrain from thinking we are better or worse for what we do and who we are and what we're capable of. We must avoid singing the Bitter Single Song about yoga. We, above all others, must avoid it because we are walking the yogic path which teaches us that there isn't anything to gain from judging, there isn't any happiness to be had by achieving or not achieving.
Our goal is to write love songs about being the yogis we are right now because we know that true happiness has nothing to do with our asana. The asana is only there to help us connect with the happiness that lies in the deep inner stillness within. Tomorrow, perhaps we will touch our toes, and the day after we may not. That will not change our love song to the Spirit Within.
Take from me what I want
Take from me what I do
Take from me what I need
Take from me everything that takes me from You
-Mirbai Ceiba
Ego vs. yoga
on Saturday, September 7, 2013
"If the yoga of today prevents the yoga of tomorrow, it isn't yoga - it's ego. Why would you do a pose that could lead to injury just so you can say you did it? I want to be healthy in my old age, not crippled because I can say when I was younger I could do certain poses."
One of my wonderful teachers reminded all of us today that asana should ONLY serve our bodies. The moment we push ourselves into a pose and do any harm, we have lost the yoga. We've given into ego. Oh and we've set ourselves up for pain the future.
Ohhh yes said my little brain.
Not focusing on trying to get into advanced asana for the sake of being a PPAA isn't just about acceptance and unity and blah blah blah (all very important things) it's about PROTECTING OURSELVES. If I do yoga for MY body, I will thank myself now AND years later. And really, 40 years down the road, who is going to care how far I could forward fold? But I'll care if my back is so screwed up I need a wheelchair...
Now - how can we share this with the rest of the world?
Yogi revolution
on Friday, September 6, 2013
I'm not alone, of course. There are others out there joining the revolution expand yoga beyond just the PPAAs.
As I encounter them, I'll share.
Let's start with THIS amazing article...
http://www.yoganonymous.com/the-fat-yoga-teacher/
As I encounter them, I'll share.
Let's start with THIS amazing article...
http://www.yoganonymous.com/the-fat-yoga-teacher/
Confessions
on Thursday, September 5, 2013
Yoga isn't about touching your toes.
All my teachers (and hopefully yours) - near and far, dead and alive - have stressed that. The benefits of yoga come no matter where you are in the posture. And the real benefits come from the mind and soul workout you get by being open, being humble, being aware, being quiet.
And that's precisely why I'm here, why I'm in teacher training. Because I have been transformed by the benefits of yoga, the real benefits. Because I want to dedicate my life to sharing those benefits. Because I love being a part of a community that is supportive of all people, no matter their ability.
And yet...
Even as I dig deeper and deeper into yoga, I continue to get the sense that there's a bit of lip service going on to this whole "yoga is for every body" thing.
I mean every website, every magazine, every book, every Facebook/Twitter/Tumblr/Google+/Blog post has pictures of Pretty People in Advanced Asana (henceforth, the PPAA). And of course, every yoga teacher I've met is...well, a PPAA for sure.
You know what I mean, right?
There seems to be a disconnect in the yogic community between talking the talk and walking the walk. Where are the pictures of Yogis of All Shapes and Sizes (now and forever more, the YASS)? Where are the teachers who are learning, growing and strengthening along with their students?
I've been waiting for a long time for the community to start doing something about it. And then recently I realized - oh yeah, I'm part of that community and I could do something about it.
Well, ok then...
Ready?
I am an inflexible yoga teacher.
Forget hanumanasana (splits), I'm at my wits end in uttanasana (forward fold). It takes a few rounds of Sun Salutes before I can touch the ground and that's only after years of practice. Just the mention of Upavistha Konasana (Wide-Angle Seated Forward Bend Pose) makes me whimper.
I'm not particularly strong either. I still have trouble getting into urdhva dhanurasana (wheel) and you can forget about handstand.
The thing is, it's not for lack of trying. Not for lack of practice. I've always been this way. My mother put me in ballet when I was little and I quit because my legs wouldn't let me do anything a dancer's legs should do. I was a tree trunk and my ballet teacher wanted seaweed. In high school I couldn't advance in my karate class because I couldn't for the life of me do a push up. One, lousy, push up.
So while I've seen progress in my dedicated practice, I've also realized that I will never be on the cover of Yoga Journal. At least not so long as they continue to put PPAAs on the cover.
Some days it's really not ok. Some days I want to stomp over to my sofa, turn on the TV, eat a bag of cookies and never think of yoga again. But some days it's very ok. Some days I am grateful that despite the mixed messaging, I am still surrounded by teachings and teachers that invite me to love myself for who I am. Some days I see how important it is that I continue my path of teaching yoga because there are so many like me who can be inspired by my weakness and inflexibility.
So, here I am.
Namaste.
All my teachers (and hopefully yours) - near and far, dead and alive - have stressed that. The benefits of yoga come no matter where you are in the posture. And the real benefits come from the mind and soul workout you get by being open, being humble, being aware, being quiet.
And that's precisely why I'm here, why I'm in teacher training. Because I have been transformed by the benefits of yoga, the real benefits. Because I want to dedicate my life to sharing those benefits. Because I love being a part of a community that is supportive of all people, no matter their ability.
And yet...
Even as I dig deeper and deeper into yoga, I continue to get the sense that there's a bit of lip service going on to this whole "yoga is for every body" thing.
I mean every website, every magazine, every book, every Facebook/Twitter/Tumblr/Google+/Blog post has pictures of Pretty People in Advanced Asana (henceforth, the PPAA). And of course, every yoga teacher I've met is...well, a PPAA for sure.
You know what I mean, right?
There seems to be a disconnect in the yogic community between talking the talk and walking the walk. Where are the pictures of Yogis of All Shapes and Sizes (now and forever more, the YASS)? Where are the teachers who are learning, growing and strengthening along with their students?
I've been waiting for a long time for the community to start doing something about it. And then recently I realized - oh yeah, I'm part of that community and I could do something about it.
Well, ok then...
Ready?
I am an inflexible yoga teacher.
Forget hanumanasana (splits), I'm at my wits end in uttanasana (forward fold). It takes a few rounds of Sun Salutes before I can touch the ground and that's only after years of practice. Just the mention of Upavistha Konasana (Wide-Angle Seated Forward Bend Pose) makes me whimper.
I'm not particularly strong either. I still have trouble getting into urdhva dhanurasana (wheel) and you can forget about handstand.
The thing is, it's not for lack of trying. Not for lack of practice. I've always been this way. My mother put me in ballet when I was little and I quit because my legs wouldn't let me do anything a dancer's legs should do. I was a tree trunk and my ballet teacher wanted seaweed. In high school I couldn't advance in my karate class because I couldn't for the life of me do a push up. One, lousy, push up.
So while I've seen progress in my dedicated practice, I've also realized that I will never be on the cover of Yoga Journal. At least not so long as they continue to put PPAAs on the cover.
Some days it's really not ok. Some days I want to stomp over to my sofa, turn on the TV, eat a bag of cookies and never think of yoga again. But some days it's very ok. Some days I am grateful that despite the mixed messaging, I am still surrounded by teachings and teachers that invite me to love myself for who I am. Some days I see how important it is that I continue my path of teaching yoga because there are so many like me who can be inspired by my weakness and inflexibility.
So, here I am.
Namaste.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)